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#please i’m about to ducking sob
jadeysjasmine · 2 months
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YOU BOUGHT A DUCK? - Alexia Putellas x Reader
A/N: first fic I’ve wrote in a while so kinda rusty😂just a random idea I had that wouldn’t let me go to sleep until I wrote it. Not proofread. 1588 words.
Tags: Fluff
Summary: you spontaneously buy 3 ducklings without telling Alexia, how hard could it be to keep your secret?
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You were in a predicament, unsure how long you can to hide this from Alexia or even how to hide it. Admittedly it wasn’t your plan this morning to buy ducklings, seeing them while you browsed the dog toys, forever spoiling Alba’s dog.
You didn’t even plan on getting them and just went in to have a look at them but a sob story from the store owner about how the were abandoned on the side of the road was enough of a pull on your heart strings to take them, so off you went home with 3 new ducklings and all the supplies you could possibly need.
Arriving home you had set up the ducklings new home in the far corner of the garage, where they would still be safe but there is minimal chance of Alexia finding them.
“Hola amor, I’m home,” your girlfriend calls out as she enters the house, she notices your on the couch and comes over to greet you, sweetly pecking your lips before flopping on top of you.
“Alexia you’re all sweaty, get off!” You struggle under the strong grip of the Spaniard, clearly she hadn’t showered - hoping that she can shower at home with you.
“Remember Bebita, Mami and Alba are coming for dinner later.” You go to reply when a peep comes from the garage, Alexia looks at the door confused before she turns to you, you try your best to stay calm, hoping to play this off.
“¿Qué fue eso?” She questions, already making her way to the door that connects the house and the garage. You scramble off the couch, catching up to her before she can open the door, “Probably nothing. You said your Mami and Alba were coming for dinner soon so you need to shower, I’ll join you,” you smile suggestively, hoping to divert her attention from the noise she heard. It seemed to work as she picked you up, throwing you over her shoulder as she raced off towards your bathroom.
-
Later on you were sat around your dining room table, dinner long finished as you continued laughing and talking with Alexia, her mother and her sister, the ducks completely slipping your mind as you spent quality time with your favourite people.
Eli was halfway through a story on one of the many pranks Alba used to play on Alexia when they were younger, through laughter she told you how Alba had put semi permanent hair dye in Alexia’s shampoo but told her it was permanent causing the captain to try murder her younger sister. The story brought to a halt when a quack was heard, all 3 women stop and turn to the door, you hope they think they had just misheard but right on cue another quack was heard, much louder and clearer than the previous one.
Alexia stood from her seat, not even giving you a chance to stop her before she made her way to the garage and barging through the door; you, Eli and Alba not far behind.
When you arrived you saw her standing in front of the chickens box, staring at it with her jaw clenched.
“Al-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence before she was turning to you, “YOU BOUGHT A DUCK?”
You heard Eli and Alba gasp behind you, Alba pushing past to go see the duck as you smiled sheepishly at your girlfriend, unsure how to weasel your way out of this.
“Ducks, there’s three,” you corrected her. That was not the right thing to say, you heard Alba snicker but your girlfriend was far from pleased.
“Dios mío, were you even going to tell me? where did you even get ducks? how are we even going to take care of them?” Your girlfriend rapidly spewing out questions along with a few Spanish curse words, although those were silenced when Eli sternly told Alexia off for her language.
“I got them from the pet store, they were just dumped at the side of the road and had no one to take care of them,” you decided switch tactics, you knew Alexia was infatuated with you, forever being teased about how in love with you she truly was and how she would do anything for you.
She was still hesitant so you whipped out the big guns, the puppy dogs eyes, you only use them on rare occasions because they were her kryptonite but you never had to use them, Alexia always more than happy to bend over backwards for you without needing them.
You heard her sigh, as you threw your arms around her and you chanted thank you, knowing you had won and the ducks were staying.
You pulled back slightly, standing on your tippy toes to place a sweet kiss on your girlfriends lips, although the kiss had ended too soon for her liking, bringing her hand to the back of your head to stop you pulling away, she placed a longer, less family friendly kiss to your lips. Only pulling away when you heard Alba groan followed by a “Not in front of the kids.”
Turning around, you chuckled when you saw Alba using her hands to cover the eyes of the ducklings, Alexia rolled her eyes before trying to kiss you again, whining when you pulled away, her big hands grabbing at you and trying to bring you closer to her.
-
Eli and Alba had left hours ago, Alexia having to basically drag Alba away from the ducklings as she didn’t want to leave them, Alba left with a promise that she will be over to visit ‘her’ ducklings.
You and Alexia were now snuggled up in bed, the captain having pretended to not like the ducklings but you could see her gradually falling in love with them, like her sister, Alexia had to be dragged away from the ducklings. You loved the sight of her with them, she was so gentle and caring and it you loved this side of her.
She had chosen the names, decided to name them Huey, Dewey and Louie after your favourite movie growing up, one you used to watch with your grandparents all the time and you had to stop yourself from crying at the sentiment and the fact your girlfriend had remember the story you told her.
-
The next morning you woke up, rolling over to bury yourself in the arms of your girlfriend but were met with cold sheets, internally groaning, you threw the covers off your body, immediately regretting it as the cold hit your barely clothed body.
You threw on one of Alexia’s hoodies before making your way out of the bedroom, you call for your girlfriend but you don’t get a reply, you are very confused, she is not in the living room, your home gym nor is she in the kitchen so you’re baffled at where she went. You were just about to call her when you heard her.
“HUEY!”
You race into the garage to see Alexia had set up the kiddie pool you had for when your nieces and nephews came to visit for the ducks, you had to hold back a laugh when you see her kneeling next to the pool, clearly having just been soaked as Huey was flapping in her arms.
“What happened amor?”
She glared at you, clearly unimpressed with your failed attempt to hide your smile at her current predicament.
You trailed over to her, taking the flapping duck from her arm and placing him into the pool with his siblings, all 3 happily swimming around. You took one of the towels she had set aside before helping her dry off, she gratefully pecked your lips and mumbled a thank you.
You both spent your morning with the ducks before you made breakfast together, Alexia had shown you all the photos she took of the ducks and told you about their different personalities. You were staring at her, not really paying attention to anything she was saying, more looking at how passionately she was talking.
She noticed your dazed look and the occasional hum and smirked, “Are you even listening to me bebè?”
You felt your cheeks heat up, covering your face with your hands as you heard her laugh.
Your moment ruined when your heard pounding at your door, you looked at Alexia confused but she looked like a deer caught in headlights, that made you more confused she you went and answered the door, shocked when you noticed most of the barça squad standing at your front door, Mapi of course at the front.
“Hola,” she grinned, “We came to meet the ducklings, Ale sent a photo.”
You glared at your girlfriend who winced at the look, it was too late now so you signed before wordlessly directing the to the garage, opening the door wider as the sea of football players rushed as fast as possible.
There were a few at the back, not rushing, you noticed it was Frido, Ingird, Marta, Caro and Sandra. You smiled at them before you led them to the garage where the rest were.
As you entered you saw them all crowed around the pool, watching intensely, cooing when the ducklings do something relatively cute. They were quieter than expected, probably already warned by Alexia and not wanting to get on their captains bad side.
You stood near the back next to Alexia, content with watching your friends gush over your duckling, eternally gratefully for your friends and your girlfriend.
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luveline · 3 months
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i love dad au’s! what about kbd!steve feeling a little overwhelmed and accidentally snapping and it startles one of the girls? like dove walking in their bedroom when you’re trying to calm him down. love your work❤️
thank u for requesting!! mom!reader, 1.1k
A hard knock on the door startles you. You don’t think one of the girls could emit so much force, so you assume it to be your husband. “Yeah, babe, I’m getting dressed.” 
“I need to talk to you.” 
“Okay,” you say, not worried, but not not worried. Nobody ever likes hearing that phrase without a quick follow up. You pull your pants over damp legs and leave the towel around your shoulders to catch any run off, opening the door for Steve where he waits on the other side. He looks strange; he’s not smiling. You go to touch his face and he ducks away from your touch.
“Steve, what?” you ask, confused. 
He peels away into the bedroom. You follow quickly. You want to close the door but think better of it —Dove is in her room with a faulty baby monitor.  
“I need more help,” he says tightly. 
“Okay. With what?” 
“No, that’s the problem. I can’t keep telling you everything.”
He sounds so angry so suddenly, it isn’t like him. You fight the urge to be defensive, and then the want to cry, holding out one of your hands to him in the universal gesture for calm down. “Okay. I’m sorry. Just give me some leeway, okay? Because the thing that you’re mad about right now has been stewing with you for ages, but this is the first I’ve heard about it.” 
He sits down hard on the end of the bed. You stand there for a few seconds, tense, but you really, really love him. You get down onto your knees and look up into his face, clasping your hand loosely around his ankle. “I’m sorry, H. Please don’t be angry with me yet.” 
“I’m not angry with you, I just need more help this week and you haven’t noticed, and that pissed me off.” 
“You think maybe I didn’t notice ‘cos I had all that stupid work stuff to do?” you ask gently. It takes more effort than you’d like to admit to be calm right now, but you’re trying because it’s you and Steve. He deserves your effort more than anyone else in the world, especially now that he’s telling you he needs it. “What do you want my help with, honey? I’ll only make you tell me once.” 
“But why do I have to tell you once?” he asks. 
“Because I’m busy too.” 
He shakes his head. “That pisses me off, though. We’re both busy, we’re both struggling, but I’m the one who ends up picking up the slack.”
“I’m sure it feels that way for you,” you say, trying to be patient, pretty close to losing it, “but I’ve been doing a lot this week. I have.”
He looks disgusted for a moment, just a split second, and you’re so worried he’s aiming that disgust at you that you duck your chin, eyes clouding with hurt. 
“Sorry,” he says. He covers his eyes with the back of his hand, pitch rising with emotion. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 
“Honey,” you murmur, rubbing his thigh. He curls into himself, and you might not see it often but you know what he looks like when he’s going to cry. “Sweetheart, please don’t be upset.”
“I’m being mean,” he says. 
“No you’re not! You’re not being mean at all, you’re asking for help, and you’re telling me how you feel, that’s not mean, that’s the right thing to do, even if you’re angry.” You try to catch his gaze. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay? I know how much you do. I should’ve noticed, even if I’m busy. That’s not okay of me. I promise I’ll do better now you’ve told me. Won’t make you tell me again.”
He sighs as the first awful tear breaks from his lashes. “I think I’m really tired,” he says, half laugh and half sob. 
You encourage him into a bendy hug. He’s boiling hot under your hands, sniffling as you rub a line up and down his back. “I’m sorry. It’s not fair that you feel like this. I’m supposed to look after you,” you murmur. 
“I don’t even care that you’re not helping as much as I need you to,” he admits, “I’m just so tired.” 
“Why don’t you lie down? You don’t have to suffer in silence, baby. You told me how you feel and now I’m gonna pull my socks up and take care of you.” He shudders with tears. 
“Dad?” Dove asks worriedly. 
She’s standing in the doorway with her empty bottle in her hand, which she drops. 
Steve immediately wipes his face but it’s no use, she’s seen he’s upset already, and she doesn’t like the look of it. Her eyes fill with tears, staring at him in shock. 
“Oh, Dove, don’t cry,” he says. His own surprise prompts another tear to roll down his cheek. 
“Daddy,” she says, looking at you like you can fix it. 
“Come here, dad,” you say showfully, pulling at his face as you reach up from your kneeling to kiss his damp cheeks. “Don’t be upset! Let me kiss it better.” 
He cups the back of your neck and lets you kiss him all over. “Thank you, angel. Thank you, I feel better already.” 
Your kisses are sincere, if a little for show. You wipe his cheeks dry with your thumbs as you go, and take a hand through his hair as you lean back. He gives you a sorry smile. 
“Do you want to come and give him a kiss?” you ask from over your shoulder. 
Dove walks into the arm you hold out for her and climbs into your lap, then Steve’s. He sniffles and holds her, misery in his frame but the relief of having your kid to squeeze clear. “Sorry, Dove, did dad worry you?”  he asks in a murmur, lips near the top of her ear as he hugs her close. She’s small enough that his arm covers near the entirety of her back. 
You pat his thigh. He reaches for your hand to hold. 
“Crying,” she mumbles. 
“Sorry. I was just tired.”
“You okay?” she asks, like he’d ask her. 
“Yeah.” He threads your fingers together and leans away, smiling affectionately at Dove. She looks a lot like him when she smiles back, though you have to skew your head to see it. Same eyes, same dip in their top lip. “Mom kissed it better. Well, mostly. I just need, like, one more kiss, and then I will be perfect. Do you think so?” 
She knows what he’s doing, laughing warmly as she leans in to kiss his cheek. 
His eyes close as she ducks in, a small smile on his lips. 
Man, you think. If Steve’s out of commission, I have so much laundry to do. 
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marvelwinchester67 · 3 months
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I’m gonna need 5-10 business days to recover from the Hazbin Hotel season 1 finale.
Hazbin Hotel episode 7 and 8 spoilers (because I’m going feral) and my thoughts/unhinged feelings about it because no one else can understand quite like tumblr can
Read at your own risk
What. The. Fuck. Guys.
WHAT DOES IT MEAN?!
IT WAS NIFFTY WHO KILLED ADAM?!
AND SIR PENTIOUS?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! IM NOT OKAY BUT IM GLAD HE IS
Lucifer “now I’m gonna fuck you” Morningstar everyone (plz I love him so much)
So Carmilla knew who Vaggie really was and just, didn’t give a shit? Love her for that
I love Rosie. Her design, her personality, she’s amazing. She was so sweet to Charlie when she didn’t have to be and actually listened to her and encouraged her (points for the relationship advice)
So Alastor is on someone’s leash and he’s trying to wiggle his way out of it, the Vees are plotting (of course they are), and LUTE KNOWS LILITH?! THEY MADE SOME KIND OF DEAL?!
I’m so so curious about how Lute and Lilith know each other and why Lute would want her to deal with her daughter
But this implies that Adam had a previous deal with Lilith regarding something we don’t know yet, since Lute said she was in charge now that he was dead and that their deal pertained to her now
ALSO?! You’re telling me that’s what Adam looked like under his mask?! (I still loathe him but lowkey he was hot I’ll be honest right now)
Sir Pentious telling Cherri he loved her was so sweet
I soaked up every single scrap of Huskerdust I could within those last two episodes they own my soul and I’m so excited to see more of them in season 2
So it looks like Vox thinks Alastor is missing again which is why he’s plotting with the other Vees, but Alastor showed back up at the hotel during repairs so that might not last long
Alastor’s fight with Adam was so good holy shit omfg plz give me more of Alastor’s powers that shield was so cool and his verse in that final song gave me chills like, oh my god he was so mad and I’m here for it
And Lucifer showing up and telling Charlie she changed his heart and mind about the sinners? He is so precious plz protect this duck loving man at all costs
Charlie and Vaggie’s More Than Anything Reprise? Please I am sobbing they love each other so much it hurts
To top it all off- Alastor having beef with literally everyone will never not be funny. Fucking Susan? Are you kidding me. I was laughing so hard. Rosie seems like she deals with Susan a lot and Alastor calling her an Ornery Bitch was so fucking funny for no reason.
Everyone has beef with Susan now.
There is so much I have to say about this show and I could literally talk about it for years but for now I will be repeatedly listening to the soundtrack and impatiently waiting for season 2 because I no longer have the will to live after I sobbed on my bedroom floor over this show. VIVIENNE I AM IN YOUR WALLS-
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multi-fandom-imagine · 5 months
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•EVEN MORE THE BLUE EYE SAMURAI INCORRECT QUOTES•
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Reader: Do you ever do anything except whine like a little bitch.
Taigen: Some times I whine like a big Bitch!
Ringo: Do you think when Butterflies are in love that they feel human's in their stomach?
Reader: Ringo! What the fuck!
Reader: • • •_-• - / ... - •_• •_• -.-
Mizu: What is that
Reader: Remorse Code.
Mizu: I am even angery now.
Reader: Hey Mizu, what are you eating?
Mizu: A family sized bag of sweets.
Reader...that's not family sized....that's regular sized....
Mizu:Everything is family sized when you dont have a family.
Reader: *whispering* Mizu...nOo
Reader: *Laying in bed* Do you think birds get sad for not having arms?
Mizu: Well do you get sad for not having wings?
Reader: *Choke up* Every single day.
Taigen: If I say I love you will you say it back?
Reader: Yes
Taigen: I love you
Reader: It back
*Five Minutes later*
Mizu: Why is Taigen sobbing face down on the floor?
Reader: I wish I could block people in real life.
Akemi: Restraining order
Mizu: Murder
Reader: What are you five?
Taigen: Yea! Five head's taller than you.
Reader:
Taigen:
Reader:
Taigen:....Please don't kill me.
Mizu: Are you high?
Reader: Am I what?
Mizu: High?
Reader: Hello.
Taigen: Can you be quiet?! I'm trying to think.
Reader: Don't worry. Doing anything for the first time is difficult.
Mizu: WHOEVER CAUSED THIS MESS IS GOING TO-
Reader: It was me...
Mizu: ...Is going to be forgiven because everyone deserves a second chance.
Reader: Why are you on the floor?
Mizu: I’m depressed.
Mizu: Also I was stabbed, can you get Ringo, please
Taigen: I guess I’m just a bad person.
Reader: Nah, you’re not a bad person. You’re a terrific person. You’re my favourite person. But sometimes you can be a real cunt
Reader: Hey Mizu?
Mizu, internally: There they are. My favorite person in the world, the love of my life. Fuck I just want to stare at them and hold them and kiss them for the rest of my life—
Mizu: What the FUCK do you want?
Akemi staring at Reader: “You look like an angel.”
Reader who wasn’t paying attention: “What?”
Akemi: “I said you look ugly at every angle.”
Mizu *screeching*: YOU MEAN A LOT TO ME!
Reader: wh-
Mizu: YOU’RE ESSENTIAL TO MY EXISTENCE!
Reader:why are you screaming??
Mizu: BECAUSE I HAVE TROUBLE EXPRESSING MYSELF! IT HELPS TO YELL SENTIMENTAL THINGS IN AN AGRESSIVE TONE!
Reader: I-
Mizu: I FUCKING LOVE YOU!
Ringo: Wow, it’s a barren featureless wasteland out there isn’t it?
Reader: … Ringo, try turning the map around.
Reader: You’re mad at me.
Mizu: I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.
Reader: Oh, come on. Everyone knows that’s worse
Mizu: Don’t worry, you’ve got everything you need to defeat them.
Reader: The power to believe in myself?
Mizu: No, a Sword.
Mizu: Stab them.
Reader: Don’t kill me, I have a wife
Assassin: I don’t care about that
Reader: That wasn’t a plea for mercy, that was a warning
Mizu kicking the door down: You called, love?
Reader: Here you are, Mizu. Nice hot cup of tea.
Mizu: …It’s cold.
Reader: Nice cup of tea.
Mizu: It’s horrible.
Reader: Cup of tea.
Mizu: I’m not even sure it is tea.
Reader: Cup.
Reader: You need to react when people cry.
Mizu: I did, I rolled my eyes.
Reader: Gotta love knitting needles, I can make a scarf, I can make a hat, I can stab someones eyes out, I can make mittens.
Akemi: What was that middle part?
Reader: I can make a hat?
Mizu: How much sleep did you get?
Reader: Eight.
Mizu: Hours?
Reader: Minutes. God! Taigen, would you shut the fuck up?
Taigen*Fixing his hair*: What the fuck? I didn’t even say anything!
Taigen: how come you’ve been abnormally nice to me lately?
Reader what do you mean?
Taigen: you just seem nicer than usual
Mizu: They can punch you in the face if you want.
Fowler: I could kill you if I wanted.
Reader: Yeah? So could any other human being. So could a dog. So could a dedicated duck. You aren't special.
Akemi: Did you really have to stab him?
Reader: You weren't there, you didn't hear what he said to me.
Akemi: And what did he say?
Reader: "What are you gonna do? Stab me?"
Mizu, nodding: That's fair.
Akemi: NO!
Reader: *Screams*
Taigen: *Screams louder to establish dominance*
Ringo: Should we do something?
Mizu: No, I want to see who wins.
Ringo:Let's speak about our talents.
Ringo:...I'll start, I like to cook.
Akemi: I'm good at languages.
Reader: I'm good instruments.
Mizu: I'm good at killing people.
Reader: *Does something stupid*
Mizu: What an absolute fucking idiot.
Mizu: I can't believe I would die for them.
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belovedmusings · 6 months
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“You have to trust me.”
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18+ Explicit Smut 🚫Minors DNI🚫
You and Satoru get into an argument before he heads off to face Sukuna. You worry for his safety since the incident of his sealing is still fresh in your mind, begging him to let the others help, but he insists he has to do it alone. Hot, emotional sex follows.
Relevant tags: AFAB reader w/minimal gendered language, reader with no defined characteristics for inclusivity and realism, angst, hurt/no comfort, before Ch 236, established relationship, unprotected sex, creampie, missionary/mating press, intentional baby making
Recommended songs to listen to while reading: Privilege (The Weeknd), lovely (Billie Eilish), Lo Vas Olvidar (Billie Eilish, ROSALIA)
A/N: I have a follow-up to this where he survives the fight so that you can have some comfort after this hurt. I’ll link it at the end :’) for now enjoy some angst.
Expand to read:
“Satoru, please,” your voice tapers off at the end, the ache in your heart stinging with its intensity. “Please, don’t do it alone. You can have help. Yuuta—”
“This isn’t his fight,” Satoru insists, “I don’t want to involve innocent kids in this if I can help it.”
“So you’re just gonna go off and get yourself killed instead?”
His brows furrow, eyes frozen on your face. His lips part in disbelief, and after a moment of being stunned, he laughs incredulously.
“Seriously?” He asks you, “Do you really think that lowly of me? You think I’m marching off to my death right now?! You think I’m some weak little twerp or something? That’s all I am to you?!”
As he raises his voice, you start to feel guilt rising up in your chest. You hadn’t meant to say it like that. Here he is, about to fight for the sake of the world and you’re belittling him and undermining his strength. You’re telling him you expect him to lose, even if that wasn’t your intention. You’re supposed to be his support pillar—he doesn’t just let anyone in.
The anger fizzles out of you like ice water on hot coals. Instantly, you feel cold.
“No, Satoru,” you shake your head, remorse bubbling up so violently tears spring to your eyes. This is the love of your life, the man who has been nothing but sweet, patient, and kind to you. Sure, back when things were normal, he used to tease and get on your nerves, he had to work a lot and his time was stretched thin as a result, but he always made time for you. He always thought of you, brought you your favorite treats from his missions, latched onto you when he came back because he missed you.
Apparently you started sobbing at some point while you thought about all of that, because the next thing you know, he’s wrapping his newly thickened arms around you and pulling you into his sturdy chest.
“I didn’t mean to yell at you,” his voice is subdued now, full of guilt. “I shouldn’t have raised my voice. It’s just that—”
“That’s not…” you sniffle, shaking your head as you try to find the strength to get a full sentence out in the midst of your break down. “I believe in you, Satoru, I do, I didn’t mean—didn’t mean to say that…”
He hugs you tighter, rubbing up and down your arm. You continue.
“I’m just so fucking scared, Satoru, I’m scared.”
More sobs wrack your body and he can only sigh heavily, trying to hold you as close to himself as he can.
“I don’t want to do this to you,” his voice is thin, like he’s trying hard to keep it even. “I hate that I can’t give you a normal, easy life with me.”
You huff, wrapping your arms around him. “That’s not…I wouldn’t trade what we have for the world, Satoru, for the world…”
“I just hate that this is causing you so much pain,” he replies. “I’m supposed to be taking it away, not making it worse. God, I really am the worst, aren’t I?”
You shake your head in disagreement, planting a kiss on his neck to protest his statement. His breath hitches, and the next moment, he’s raising your chin up with his index finger, ducking to connect your lips. You make a small noise in the back of your throat and kiss back, arms winding around his neck to draw him closer. You feel him hug your waist, and go willingly when he backs you up.
The backs of your legs meet the edge of his bed, the one that you’ve become so familiar with it’s more comfortable than your own at the place you rarely sleep anymore, and you realize that this might be the last chance you ever get to share it with him.
Another sob escapes you before you can stop it and you grab the collar of his shirt tightly, pulling him down with you. You fall onto the mattress, Satoru catching himself so he doesn’t crush you as he kisses you passionately.
You trail your palms down his chest, down his abdomen, over the tight black shirt he has on, then back up again just to feel him. Satoru is here right now, in your hands, on top of you—you need to cherish this while it lasts.
You break the kiss as your crying worsens, unable to stop lamenting the fact that you can’t freeze time in its place right now.
“Shh,” his sugary voice hushes you, “Shh, focus on me. I want this to feel good for you, okay? We can’t have you crying your way through it, silly, then you won’t remember a thing.”
You sniffle, trying to wipe at your eyes. “I don’t want to just r-remember you…I need you to be okay.”
“I am okay,” he says, pecking your brow bone sweetly. “I’m right here. Just feel me. Nothin’ else. Don’t even think right now, thinking’s not useful.”
You huff shakily, eyes fluttering shut as you feel his mouth go for your neck. He scrapes his teeth over your jugular to shock pleasure into your senses, successfully distracting some of the anguish right out of you.
“That’s it,” like this, his voice sounds almost like a purr, and you shiver, arms wrapping around his shoulders to grip at his back. He leaves a wet kiss where his teeth were and swipes his tongue over the spot, starting to suckle. You give him a soft noise in response, relishing in the fact that you know he’s leaving a mark on purpose. It’ll be there at least for a few days, or more if he really tries.
“Make it dark,” you breathe, “Give me as many as you can, please.”
“You don’t have to beg me,” he murmurs below your ear, sending heat pulsing downward. “I’ll give anything you want from me.”
You suck in a sharp breath. “Anything?”
At your eager question, he chuckles lowly, lifting himself up to meet your eyes. “Hmm. You have something specific in mind, don’t you?”
Your face heats up involuntarily, but the urgency of the situation has you forcing your bashfulness down. This might be the only time to ask. You had wanted to wait until the two of you were settled, maybe married if that’s what you agreed on, but now there might not be another moment. This could be it. And you know that if you don’t tell him what you want now and something happens, you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.
With that thought, you take a deep breath and raise your hand to cup his face, brushing a few strands of his fringe away from his eyes.
“I want your baby, Satoru.”
You see the moment the words register in his brain. His eyes light up with something you’ve never seen before, and he smiles as if you just gave him the sweetest, most sincere compliment he’s ever heard.
“Yeah? A piece of me forever, huh?”
You nod, a grin tugging at your lips even as droplets continue to spill down your cheeks. “Yeah. Our love personified.”
He chuckles wetly and you think you see his eyes turn glossy, but he’s kissing you again before you can confirm it.
“It’s yours,” he says against your mouth. “All yours.”
You lose yourself in the long kiss that follows. All you can feel is him moving on top of you, tongue dancing with yours so intimately it would have the angels in the room blushing.
You raise your hips when he tugs at your pants, taking your underwear with them. He sits back on his haunches to slide them off your legs, eyes gentle as he gets between them and pushes his hands up underneath your shirt.
Sitting up quickly, you allow him to lift it off of you, discarding it behind himself. Now, you’re completely naked, but he’s still clothed.
“No fair,” you say, eyeing his shirt like it’s offensive, and he laughs.
“Say no more, say no more,” he replies, “Just lay down for me.”
Your stomach flutters with butterflies as you do as he tells you, looking up at him kneeling between your legs. You watch as he crosses his arms to peel his tight shirt off of his sculpted muscles, smooth, fair skin coming into view. He’d put a Greek god to shame, you think. He’s so tear-jerkingly beautiful it threatens madness in your mind.
“Like what you see?” He taunts mischievously, standing up to untie his pants and push those along with his boxers down his hips. His reddened erection springs free and you stare unabashedly at it, never having got used to the sight fully. He’s huge, both long and thick, all smooth skin except for a prominent vein on the underside. You used to joke with him early on in your relationship that it was the main reason for his cocky attitude, that you’d probably act the same way if you had a dick like that, and it always made him laugh. You love making him laugh. God, you love Satoru so much.
“Oh, you definitely like what you see now,” he snorts, climbing back onto the bed. “Gotta admit, it’s hot as hell to see you objectify me like that.”
“I wasn’t—”
“I’m nothing but a glorified sperm donor, mistress.”
You make an incredulous face. “What? I’m not—you don’t even—”
“Shh, I’m just teasin’,” he grins at you, leaning down to peck your lips. “I know you love me.”
You blow out a puff of air like a deflating balloon. “Satoru, I swear to god.”
He chuckles, shutting himself up by kissing you again. “That’s just how I show love.”
You chase his lips, hearing his words for the ‘I love you’ they truly are, threading your hands in his hair.
His big palms find your hips and he centers them for himself, lining up and grinding his stiff member against your wet core.
“Mmh,” you moan, moving with him, “Satoru…”
He sighs shakily, grabbing the crook of your knee to push it up, giving himself more room to move. His grinds become more forceful and it has you stuttering little gasps, nails digging into his back.
“Already scratchin’ me up?” He asks, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “But I haven’t even put it in yet.”
The laugh you reply with is half-assed, need distracting you, and you find his eyes. “What’s stopping you?”
“Oh? Someone’s impatient,” he chuckles, stamping a kiss to your nose. “All right, all right. Better give you what you want.”
He takes ahold of himself and lines up, breathing a heavy sigh as he sinks into you. As soon as he does, you make a noise in the back of your throat, hugging him closer to you. As he bottoms out, you can’t help but press more chaste kisses wherever you can on him—his cheek, his jaw, his neck, his collarbone. You just love him. You love the feeling of his body on top of yours, the warm weight unique to him, how he fills your arms up, tangible and strong. You breathe in deeply, the sweet musk of his skin filling your senses. It’s your favorite scent in the entire world.
He pulls back and rocks forward again slowly, taking care to get you used to his size. So much has happened lately that you haven’t been able to get intimate a lot, so you have to let him ease you back into it.
As he works you open on his cock slowly, you take to caressing the smooth skin of his back, eyes closed to revel in the sound of his heavy breaths, strained with the effort to control his movements so as not to hurt you. You love how solid he is under your palms. You could touch him forever. If he survives this fight, you swear that you’ll never let go of him again. You plead mentally with any deity that may hear you to protect Satoru.
You kiss the soft underside of his chin and hold him closer, holding onto that thought. Protect him. Keep him safe. Keep him alive. I love this man so much, just please don’t take him away from me.
He chooses that moment to start picking up the pace, the dull ache it gives you enough to thankfully keep you from spiraling further. You sigh, bending your knees further to give him more room. Your legs then wrap around him, ankles crossing at the base of his spine, and he responds by going faster. The room begins to fill with the sound of your bodies meeting over and over, his length molding you to his shape with every push of his hips into yours.
On a particularly hard thrust, you gasp, tightening around him, and it causes him to groan right after you. His voice is so sweet. It was one of the things that stood out to you about him when you had first met him—the way he always seemed to have perfect control over it. He speaks with ebbs and flows to contour the meanings of his words, to give them his special nuance that perfectly colors in his personality. He’s just so animated when he speaks. If he’s annoyed, you’ll hear it. If he’s playful, you’ll hear it. If he’s happy, you’ll hear it.
Right now, as he works through stuttered breaths and hitched moans, delivered exhales of your name weaved into declarations of his bliss, you hear the pleasure you’re giving him. That control starts to slip and words start tumbling from his lips, voice thin and shaky, a tone reserved just for you.
You turn your head to lay a kiss on his lips, landing on the corner of his mouth, but he understands what you need, sweeping you into a languid, passionate make out session as he rocks in and out of you. You hear him make a sort of wet noise before he doubles down on his efforts, pushing deep inside of you and starting to roll his body.
“Satoru,” you hiss in surprise, mouth falling open as his abdomen grinds against the sensitive bud above the place he’s buried inside of, heightening the goosebumps that break out on your skin. Your head falls back and he takes the opportunity to start making as many marks on your skin as he can with his mouth. Like this, you feel yourself getting close, and that has you remembering what comes after this.
He’s going to leave, and he might not come back.
This might be the last time you ever get to have him.
“I love you,” you say, just needing to get the words out, needing him to know. “You’re so important to me—thank you for everything, Satoru.”
His breath catches in his throat and he finds your gaze, reaching up to cup your jaw in his palm.
“Thank you for everything,” He replies sincerely. “Thank you for loving me. For dealing with all my bullshit and sticking by me.”
“Always,” you shake your head, eyes filling with new tears. You sniffle, feeling that choked desperation start seizing your chest again. “Always, Satoru.”
He smiles at you but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Those beautiful luminescent oceans only reflect the deep sadness the both of you feel, and to see it glaringly obvious in his gaze breaks your heart. He can’t fake his happiness this time, not even for you. He’s human too, and being here with you like this in what might be the last time threatens to undo him.
Satoru swallows thickly and concentrates on his movements to distract himself, forcing himself to focus on the noises you make as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. He wants this to last forever just like you do, but you both know he’s needed by more people than just you.
Your climax approaches and with it, your emotions swell up inside of you. You remember meeting him for the first time, you remember when he started pursuing you, how happy he was when you agreed to a date, how hard he’d tried to win you over yet how effortless he made it look. Every time you two shared a laugh, every time he was there while you cried, how he always managed to put a smile back on your face. How sweet of a man he is to his students, how proud you can tell he is whenever he talks about them, and how his eyes light up whenever he eats a treat he’s fond of. God, you just love him.
“Satoru,” you whimper, orgasm hitting you abruptly. “Oh god, I love you so much.”
He exhales forcefully as he feels it, managing a few sloppy thrusts before he’s cumming as well pushing as deep as he can go in effort to fulfill your earlier request.
As you start to come down, the fear and despair come back tenfold, overtaking you in a fit of sobs. He wraps his arms around you and buries his nose in your hair.
“I’ll win,” He whispers to you, “I will. I’ll come back and we’ll raise the little shit we just made together, okay? They’ll probably grow up like me but I hope they’re more like you, baby.”
You hiccup loudly as you cry harder, clinging to the image of a happy family with him for dear life.
“It’s gonna be okay. You have to trust me,” He insists, inhaling slowly. “I have to go now.”
You hold him tighter, squeezing your eyes shut to commit this to memory before he’s pulling away, lifting himself off of you and grabbing his clothes quickly.
He dresses in silence, your cries the only thing echoing around the room. All you can manage to do is put on one of his button-ups from the foot of his bed, wiping furiously at your eyes.
Too soon, he’s clothed again, and it’s time for him to go.
He walks over to you again and takes your chin gently in his hand, tilting it up so that your eyes connect. He smiles softly at you.
“You know that I love you, right?”
A deep ache seats into your chest. He’s said it in a million ways before but never in its original form, those simple, crater-heavy three words. You nod, sniffling as another wave of lament threatens to pull you under.
“I do,” you confirm, forcing it out in a strained voice. He nods to himself, leaning in and pressing his soft lips to your forehead.
You feel the moment that he uses his technique to flash himself out of the room, because his warm presence that naturally takes up a lot of space vanishes and leaves absolutely everything feeling cold and sterile.
You break down again, head falling into your hands.
Shoko had told you where everyone would be watching the fight take place. You want to be there, and you will go, but you need to be alone first.
You just hope with all of your might that you won’t be left alone with only a piece of him to succeed his legacy. You want him to be there too. You need him to be there.
You need him to be okay.
—-
A/N: i gave myself an ouchie on the heart while writing this. whoops. also wow is he gorgeous in that picture at the top?? anyways here’s the second part where he survives bc i should be gege instead so he’ll be okay :-)
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finntheehumaneater · 3 months
Note
from the prompts lists for a lil steddie sickfic 👉👈 bonus points if you can get an uncle wayne cameo in there too lmao
“I’m gonna be sick.” & “Look at me - just breathe, okay?”
hallo, liebe!!! I had way too much fun with this. I want to make this universe its own thing. Everybody send me asks about this I want to talk about my domestic steddie AU please, I love them so much.
(All ask prompt lists are in my pinned posts, and sorry for any mistakes, most of this was copied and pasted from photos of notebook paper, and it does not like my handwriting lmao)
TW: throwing up
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Ozzy only liked to eat if someone was watching him. Steve said it was because he wanted to feel safe and protected, but Eddie knew it was because he was an attention whore.
He was currently perched on top of the table, his black tail swiping impatiently as he meowed at Eddie—not pawing the open laptop closed yet, but it looked like he was thinking about it.
“M'doing work, babe,” Eddie muttered gently, reaching out to pet the cat but he ducked away. He rifled through his notes again, trying to remember what name he and Steve had decided for the elven lord. Steve didn’t normally help with Eddie's novel—said he didn't know enough about fantasy and the like, and he didn't want to ruin it—but he had sat down with Eddie on the couch and looked through lists of Welsh names until he found one he thought sounded fit for an elven lord.
And Eddie had agreed, it was a name fit for an elven lord, but he couldn't remember, and he just needed to find the stupid paper with the character names—
Meow!
Eddie's eyes moved back to the cat, and that added on top of the stress of writing made something inside of him snap. “Ozzy, babe. I’m working.”
The cat shied away, his ears flattening and his eyes widening. Eddie ran a hand down his face.This wasn't worth yelling at his cat over.
“Oz…” he closed the laptop and picked up the cat, carrying him to the laundry room. They kept his food on top of the dryer, because when he and Steve had moved in (what... three years ago?) Ozzy had decided that the laundry room was his room, and that people could only actually do the laundry if he liked them.
Eddie set Ozzy down in front of the food dish and pressed a kiss to his side before going to get the hampers from his and Steve's (and Wayne’s) room.
Wayne had been living with them since they had bought the house, and he had lived with them in their apartment before that. he was in charge of doing the “adult things”, even though Eddie and Steve were nearing (thirty twenty-seven for Steve and twenty-eight for Eddie, although Eddie was almost twenty-nine), because Steve's memory couldn't be trusted for things he wasn't one hundred percent in on, and Eddie just couldn't be trusted to do most things on his own. He would much rather be writing.
Wayne still worked as a mechanic, downtown, but this time he liked his job. He'd never leave if he  could, but that meant that he wouldn't get to watch baseball with Steve.
Eddie swore that sometimes it felt like Wayne loved Steve more than him.
Steve was working as a teacher—middle schoolers—and he hadn't been doing it for all that long, but the kids loved him. And he loved them back. Especially one girl named Hayden, because he said she reminded him of Max (Max worked with Gareth at a bookstore a little while away. They shared an apartment, and Max didn't really "work" at the store, seeing how her eyesight fluctuated, but Gareth didn’t mind the company)
And then there was Eddie. Who wrote. The whole rockstar thing hadn't really worked out for him, but he and the guys still got together to play whenever Grant and Jeff were in town.
He was working on his hovel, and he hated every second of it. Sure, he loved writing, but writing an entire-ass-novel was hard.
"It's basically a Lord Of The Rings fanfiction!" He had sobbed to steve one night in bed after he had finally (after six months) finished the rough draft for the outline. “I hate it.”
Steve had just hummed in acknowledgment for a moment, half-curled around Eddie with the messy papers in his hands. "Isn't everything based off of something?"
Eddie had shrugged, keeping his face tucked into Steve’s neck.
“I like Ophelia.” Steve had whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of Eddie's head. "Isn't she the one that stabs the guy with the horns?"
Eddie tried to hum an “mhm” of confirmation, but it came as more of a whine of despair. 
“The drawings you did of her for El were pretty,” Steve had continued, his voice gentle and patient in a way that Eddie adored as he nudged his nose into Eddie's hair a bit more. "You should show her these on Sunday when she and her friend Maya come to visit." Eddie had. And honestly? Aside from Steve and Wayne, El was the only reason the novel was even being made. He wouldn't be able to even open his laptop without her nagging and consistent support over the phone.
She lived up north near Jonathan and Argyle, somewhere near New York, and she drove out with her roommate to visit him and Steve occasionally.
Eddie blinked when Ozzy meowed again, rubbing against his flannel pajama pants he hadn't changed out of yet. "All done, bud?" Ozzy didn't answer. 
Sometimes Eddie felt like he was going insane, talking to his cat.
He put in the detergent and made sure the clothes were spiraled so that they would wash better, before turning it on, the clear lid closed. He didn’t know what buttons to press, but he knew what noise they were supposed to make and in what order. Steve was normally in charge of laundry, but most of the kids had presentations to do, and the other half were doing theirs tomorrow. He’d probably be too tired to do the laundry when he got home.
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Eddie heard the door open and close, and he assumed it was Steve, because Wayne wasn't supposed to be home for another hour or two.
"Stevie?" Eddie called out, and he kept talking when he didn't get an answer, because sometimes Steve got home and had what Eddie called Quiet Time, where he would just stay silent and listen to Eddie talk for a while before taking a shower and maybe having a nap." You want any apple? I had one just before you got here, but I left the peels on a bowl on the table, because I love you and things you like, even though it's weird. There’s seltzer too, but it's probably still warm because I only put them in the fridge like…fifteen minutes ago. Might be fine if you put ice in it, though.”
Eddie knew something was wrong even before Steve shuffled into the kitchen—all hunched over, his eyes rimmed red and his cheeks wet, glasses perched low on his nose, nearly slipping off of his face—because there were no arms wrapped around his waist, no face pressed into his neck, and no Robin Buckley perched on his counter. 
She had been driving Steve to and from... basically everywhere since he had gotten his license taken away. The doctors—and anyone—didn't trust him to drive with his seizures. It had taken Steve a while to get used to not being everyone's personal chauffeur anymore.
"You okay, babes?" Eddie asked softly, concern seeping into his tone as Steve leaned against the doorframe. 
"I feel like I'm gonna be sick,” Steve choked out, his voice strained.
“Oh, sweetheart...did one of your kids get you sick? "Eddie asked, taking Steve’s glasses off and setting them onto the kitchen counter before cupping his elbow and helping him over to the bathroom.
He gently pushed Steve down to kneel in front of the toilet, tugging his hair up and out of his face. It wouldn't have gotten in the way, but it looked adorable when all of the fringe that would normally sweep over his forehead in its coif was gathered up in a little ponytail on top of his head.
As much as Eddie would always be there for Steve, he still made a face and cringed away slightly when Steve threw up, smoothing his hand up and down Steve's spine and shoulders as Steve gagged and sobbed between painful-sounding heaves.
Eddie slipped off Steve's jacket when he went limp in his arms, reaching over to flush the toilet. “Shower?” 
Steve shook his head, his face contorting into something pathetic that made Eddie’s heart tug.
"What's the matter, baby? "Eddie murmured, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist, his chin tucked over Steve's shoulder. He'd make Steve get up and brush his teeth in a bit after he had sat and rested. He was still shaking, so Eddie doubted he would be able to stand okay right then.
“I’ll have to call in sick tomorrow,” Steve gasped, shaking his head. “I won’t be able to go in.”
“You don’t want to stay home and rest? Darling, I love you and you are so beautiful, but you look like death right now. You’re more pale than me.”
“Liam has his presentation tomorrow. I have to be there! H-he has a hard time speaking, and—a-and I don’t want him to be nervous. I promised him I’d be there for him,” Steve said, his voice broken and desperate, and God, Eddie was so in love with man that it physically hurt.
Steve was so kind, and caring, and sweet, and compassionate, and the list just went on, and on, and on. 
“Look at me,” Eddie whispered, his fingers brushing over Steve’s stomach. “Just breathe, okay? Liam will be okay.”
Steve shook his head again, his breath shaky and his hands gripping at Eddie’s arms like he was scared to let go. He looked like he was going to throw up again if he didn’t calm down, and didn’t want him to have to go through that anymore. 
“Liam will be okay,” Eddie repeated, his voice a bit more firm as he pressed a hand gently to Steve’s chest. “Breathe.”
Steve did breathe, but his voice was still shaking, and Eddie’s hand went up and down with each movement. “I promised him…”
“I know you promised him,” Eddie whispered, pressing a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “But you can’t control these things. He’ll be alright, baby, he’s a good kid.”
Eventually, Steve’s hands loosened and slid up to Eddie’s shoulders. He pushed himself to stand, and Eddie followed after him. “I’m…I’m okay now.”
“You’re okay,” Eddie parroted back, rubbing Steve’s arm up and down as Steve got his toothbrush out of the mug Wayne had put in the bathroom shelf. It was for some fishing company in the Adirondacks that Eddie had never heard of.
The door creaked open just a bit more than it already was and in strolled Ozzy, meowing lightly. Eddie picked him up when he stood to paw at his thigh, cooing, “Aw, there’s my baby…”
He pressed a kiss to the top of Ozzy’s head, and the cat meowed in protest, now seeing it be a bit against his original plan of being cradled and snug in Eddie’s arms if it meant he had to be kissed.
The poor thing lived a very hard life. 
“M’thought I was your baby,” Steve muttered around his toothbrush, and Eddie rolled his eyes, gently knocking his hip into Steve’s, kissing Ozzy’s head again as he squirmed and tried to escape the confines of Eddie’s arms.
“I can have more than one baby,” he said, and then his voice turned more serious. “Oh, shit, I have to call Nance and tell her that we can’t have Megan over tomorrow afternoon.”
Megan was Nancy’s three year old daughter, and she was lovely, but she was stubborn.
Steve’s face crumpled slightly as he washed the toothbrush off, and Eddie watched him try to hide it by pinching at his nose and sighing. “I’m so sorry, Eds, this is ruining all of our plans…”
“Hey, no,” Eddie set Ozzy down when he started to kick at his arm, biting at the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Steve, honey…”
Steve’s eyes were glassy again when Eddie finally got him to look at him. “I hate being sick,” he practically whimpered, his expression pleading, and fuck—if Eddie could make him feel better he would, but that wasn’t really an option.
“I know, sweet thing,” Eddie murmured sympathetically, pressing a kiss to Steve’s knuckles. “You wanna go and lay down? I’ll get you some Tylenol?”
Steve nodded and Eddie helped him to bed, getting him changed even though he could do it himself. He got Steve the pill and some water and told him that if he wanted to shower when he woke up he could, but the water couldn’t be hot in case he passed out again, like he had the last time he was sick. Head injuries with Steve were no joke.
He got Steve’s bag from where he had left it by the front door when he had come in, then switched the laundry over and when he was just sitting down to work again, Wayne got home.
“You’re early.”
Wayne shrugged, picking up one of the apple peels out of the bowl and popping it into his mouth. “Katie forced me to come back before I started workin’ on another car.”
“Hm,” Eddie hummed, opening the laptop. “Steve got home sick, so be nice.”
“M’always nice.”
Eddie sighed, shaking his head slightly with a smile before getting back to work.
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Steve hadn’t wanted Eddie to sleep with him in case he got sick, too—offering to sleep on the couch instead so that Eddie could have the bed, but Eddie had very lovingly said “fuck no” to that. He was curled around Steve, nose pressed into the sweaty hair on the back of Steve’s neck. 
Wayne was out on their neighbor’s porch smoking, and Ozzy was put away in the laundry room (his cat house had been moved there before Eddie crawled into bed, he wasn’t evil) so that he wouldn’t wake everyone up at four in the morning. 
There was a trash can by the bed, because Steve had thrown up again after dinner, even though he had barely eaten anything. 
“How much did you write today?” Steve whispered, voice scratchy and hoarse 
“You’re supposed to be sleeping, babes,” Eddie muttered, pressing a kiss to Steve’s shoulder.
“But how much?”
“Three thousand, maybe. Maybe a bit less.”
“That’s a lot.”
“Debatable.”
Steve laughed, then coughed, wincing.
“Go to sleep,” Eddie whispered, his lips brushing against Steve’s skin.
Steve still had that ridiculous ponytail on top of his head. Either he didn’t know it was there still, or he had finally come around to realizing how adorable it was.
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(More of this au, and the Doemstic!Steddie AU MasterList) Permanent taglist: @anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @here4thetrama @goodolefashionedloverboi @gregre369
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reobsessed · 6 months
Text
Guiding My Heart
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Pairing: Tav X Astarion, Reader X Astarion. Gender neutral. Content/Content Warning: Panic attacks, anxiety, fluff, hurt, comfort, kissing, 2200 words. Summary: You'd finally made it to Baldur's Gate, unfortunately the city overwhelmed you in ways you hadn't considered possible. Astarion finds you panic stricken, hiding beneath a bridge. He does his best to comfort you and guide you through the sunset streets back to camp. Author's Note: Hi guys thank you so much for the love on my last fic! Wanted to do a comfort anxiety fic, so please bear in mind panic attacks are depicted in here. Thank you again to Suri for the wonderful reads and edits!
The chance to regain your bearings never came, as you were flushed down the street by a torrent of people. You watched with garbled breaths as your companions navigated them easily, all while you were pushed back further.
Heart pumping, nerve tingling desperation took hold of you; the kind you’d only ever felt during the heat of battle. It was fight or flight, as you ducked into a bricked out dead end.
Were you dying? Your chest pounded and ached as though you were dying. Upon examining yourself, there was scarcely a wound to be seen. Checking yourself over for injuries only heightened your fear. What if it was poison? 
The numbing weakness in your legs grew, you clutched the wall for support. 
“Darling, darling? Whatever is the matter?” The sweet words of your lover filled the hollow of the underpass. 
You could only respond in the form of irregular gasps. Fingers, slender and cold, held steadfast to your waist. You gave up control and allowed them to lower you onto a nearby crate. He crouched down beside you and pried your balled up fist away from your heart, replacing your hand with his own. 
“Did something frighten you, my dear?” His forehead crinkled with concern, before being undercut by an attempt at humour. “I’ve only ever heard it beat that fast for me, but I suspect this time I’m not the cause.” He shot you a reassuring smile, belied by a tremble in his voice.
“Started panicking. Don’t know why,” you choked.
He looked at you sympathetically, before rising to his feet. “Won’t be a moment my dear, stay here.” And with that he ran off, back the way you came. You could hear murmurings outside. Those of your partner’s hurried reassurance and that of your companions, voices raised with concern and inquisition.
The voices began to die down, as did the palpitations in your heart. Astarion rounded the corner back towards you, but slowed his approach upon seeing your distress. He moved gracefully and feline, as if you were prey not to be disturbed.
You looked behind him worriedly, but were relieved when none of your other companions followed behind. They didn’t need to see you like this. You didn’t want them to see you like this. Ideally you didn’t want anybody here, but if it were to be anyone you were glad it was him.
“Now then.” He crouched down beside you, dabbing your forehead with a frilled cloth. Cooling relief washed over you as he held the palm of his hand against your temple.
“Feels good,” you sighed, leaning into his touch.
“Ah yes, I thought that might help. You’re terribly warm.”
His gentle touch and the soothing cadence of his voice were enough to calm you, but the unpleasant tingle of your limbs persisted, as did your erratic breathing.
“Sorry for all of this, Astarion.”
“For what?” he mumbled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.
“I don’t know what’s happening to me. You only just got back, you finally get to see it in daylight and I’m ruining it.”
“Don’t be silly! We’re hardly leaving tomorrow. I’ll have plenty of time to wander the sunlit streets.” 
Despite his reassurance, your eyes began to well. Something about the rise in his tone unsettled you and like a toddler crying over their parent’s temper, you began to sob.
“Shit,” he muttered, looking around desperately; his face an entanglement of hurt and bewilderment. “I didn’t mean to upset you, my darling.” His hands clamped over yours, desperate to provide you with any sort of comfort. “Did I do something wrong?”
You tried to speak, but all that came out were incoherent whimpers. He looked at you with panic stricken eyes, hands still holding firmly onto yours.
This wasn’t fair, he didn't know how to deal with this sort of thing. You were supposed to support him, you-
“My love.” He looked at you sincerely, a slight smile gracing his lips; one of those rare, genuine smiles, few ever got to see. “Let’s stay here a little while longer.” He planted a tender kiss on the corner of your mouth and held you close.
Tears of a new source began to flow and there was no holding them back. His fingers curled around yours; you were drowning and they were your anchor. You tried to wipe away your tears, but he wouldn’t let you.
“Gods, darling, no. Think of all that dirt and those… fluids- from your enemies I mean, not yours.” He pulled another handkerchief from his pocket (did this man just have an endless supply?) and gently, he dabbed at your eyes and cheeks.
“Thank you,” you sniffled.
“There we are.” He looked you up and down, appreciating his work. “All cleaned up! Shame about your makeup, but nothing we can’t fix.”
Red soreness blazed across your cheeks and seared your eyes with swollen intensity. A quick glance into a nearby puddle revealed the inky smear that enveloped your eyes. Gods, what a sight you were and yet he looked at you with such affection.
You lamented his hands detaching from yours, until they returned to your thigh, stroking soothing circles up and down your leg. Lodged deep within the pulsating heart of the city, you'd finally found your pocket of serenity. Unfortunately your respite was short lived as adolescent bellows converged on your hiding spot.
Astarion’s ears twitched in their direction and his face warped from one of contentment to bitter irritation.
“Oi, oi hanging out under a bridge.”
“Like a couple of lovesick trolls.”
You rolled your eyes at their childish remarks. Astarion, however, lacked the patience needed when dealing with youths. He shot them a glare so piercing, it silenced them in an instant. He was a stray cat, territorial and fierce. A non-existent hiss threatened them from the shadows and like a pair of puppies, they whimpered and scurried out of view.
“Was that really necessary?” you laughed hoarsely. 
“What? You can’t honestly expect me to sit here listening to children babbling on.”
You stifled your laughter. “You’re such an old man. You used to be like that too, you know?”
“I’ll have you know, I was never the sort.”
“I sometimes wonder about that myself,” he laughed bitterly, changing the subject. “Are you feeling better now, love?”
“Hmm, I wonder what kind of child you were.”
You closed your eyes and nodded. “We need to get back to the others.” You rose to your feet and Astarion joined you, a supportive hand on your lower back.
“Very well then, I’ll lead the way.” His fingers locked with yours as he led you back into the sunlight. He lit up literally and figuratively, his skin beaming like a pearl in the warm light and his mouth curling into a soft smile. He was truly in his element. “Which route would you prefer? We have the scenic back alleys of Baldur’s Gate and the even more picturesque sewers down below.”
“We can go the normal way. I don’t think I’ll subject you to the sewers just yet.” You smirked knowingly. Your adventure would lead you down into the sewers eventually, why wouldn’t it?
With a guiding hand he led you away from the dark alleyways and into the teeming streets. You did your best to suppress your rising panic. You focused on the prevailing scraps of nature: trickling water, rustling leaves and the painless cry of birds up above. Astarion, on the other hand, had been suspiciously quiet. You noticed how his eyes lit up with delight, as he stared across the street.
“What’s over there?” you asked.
“Huh? Oh, you mean that.” He pulled you in closer; one hand wrapped around your waist, the other still clasped in yours. He pointed across the street. “I’ve always wanted to visit the florist’s over there. The flowers have the most delightful fragrances.”
“How come you’ve never- ah.” You trailed off sadly, already knowing the answer.
“They always close before sundown. It’s rather unfortunate Cazador never let me bring anything home other than victims. A bouquet of flowers could have done wonders for that tacky little entranceway.”
“Well, we could always go together.”
“As much as I’d love to tour the city with you, you’ve had a long day. Let’s get you back to camp first, hm?”
“Okay, we’ll come back some other time.” You said, making a mental note of the store’s exact location.
The sun began to retreat, lost to the shadows of the upper city. There was no quieting of the streets, as the fading light gave way to an influx of people; those departing their homes and businesses, ready for whatever nightly activities they had planned. Astarion held you near to him, skillfully threading you past any who came too close. 
While you had no intention of stopping, a prominent display of cakes and pastries caught your eye. You ground to a halt, dragging Astarion with you. Unnatural hues of reds, pinks, greens and blues peered at you from behind the glass, like rows of infernal eyes. Their construction was intricate and put the very store they were displayed in to shame.
“Quite darling aren’t they?” he said, standing beside you.
“They’re pretty. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted something so beautiful.”
“Speak for yourself,” he replied fondly, looking through the glass; his reflection non-existent, as he looked between you and the cakes. “A sweet treat for my sweet treat.”
You quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah, we should really be getting back.”
The sun had almost fully set, your surroundings becoming a drab greyscale of abandonment. As you got further and further away the sounds of the city began to fade, muffled behind crumbling properties and streaming waters. It was peaceful, walking together in comfortable silence, firmly attached to one another.
“I could get used to this, you know? Strolling through derelict back alleys with you by my side,” Astarion mused. 
“I’d like that. Wouldn’t mind a change of scenery though, a bit more greenery perhaps.”
Astarion coughed nervously, turning to face you. “I was wondering if maybe you wanted to talk about what happened earlier?”
“I don’t- I don’t really know what there is to say,” you stammered in response.
“It’s alright, we’ll work through it together. We always do.” He flashed you a resolute smile.
“You don’t think it’s a little pathetic freaking out over nothing?” 
“The city can be quite overwhelming, I suppose. Not that I would know, I’ve lived here for hundreds of years.” Just like him to humble brag. “I’ve done my fair share of ‘freaking out’ on our little adventure, far be it for me to judge you.”
You wrapped your arms around him, hiding your face in the fabric of his armour. “Yeah, I guess I’m just not used to it. Sorry, again.”
“Oh stop it.” He returned the gesture and held you in his arms. You stood together silent in the moonlight, rocking against one another, all while steely waters lapped against the canal wall.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been anywhere so… populated. I feel trapped, like a rat almost.”
He gave you a once over. “Well you certainly don’t look rodent like. The taste is significantly better, I might add.”
“I wish I was a rat, then I could just run and hide in a nice wall.”
He hummed in contemplation. “I know it might be odd for me to be the one saying this, but perhaps running away isn’t the best option? We’ve faced all our problems head on so far, surely this is no different?”
You buried your face back into his chest, your agreement coming out as a muffled groan. “But what if it happens again? What if it happens while we’re doing something important?”
He rested his chin atop your head, arms still encircling your waist. “I’ll be with you, so you don’t need to worry.” He pulled back to look you in the eyes. “Just don’t stray too far from me, okay?” His tone was steady and confident, but there was a desperate and needy look in his eyes. A far worse person could take advantage of such adoration. You couldn’t let that happen, you’d never let anyone use him ever again.
You cupped his face in your hands, doing your best to look as sincere as possible within the eyes that reflected you. “I’m not going anywhere. Especially not while Cazador’s still alive.”
Satisfied with this answer, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was firm and tender, a silent act to seal the promise between you both.
“Right, we should get back before one of them burns the entire camp down,” you said looking off into the distance concernedly.
“Always a possibility when you’re not around.”
The hearty chatter and crackling fire were a welcoming sight, as you approached camp. None of the others had noticed the two of you yet and you were determined to have one last moment alone with your lover. Feeling at ease, you asked him one final question.
“Astarion?”
“Yes, my sweet?”
“Do you wanna go on a date with me?” You grinned sheepishly, lips brushing against his.
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drysdalesworld · 3 months
Text
completely serious
jamie drysdale x fem!hughes!reader
ik the third pic is him wearing a ducks jersey but there’s nothing really of him in flyers gear that fit what i was looking for, so let’s just pretend <3
y/n.hughes just posted!
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liked by trevorzegras, jackhughes, and more
y/n.hughes: to a new era baby! hope philly treats you well 🧡🧡 (please take care of him flyers or i will violently cry)
tagged: jamie.drysdale, philadelphiaflyers
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trevorzegras: i too will violently cry
lhughes_06: so this is where you took your impromptu trip to
y/n.hughes: & what about it
userone: still can’t believe it tbh 😭
yourbestie: she very much will! philadelphiaflyers
yourroommate: she cried upon hearing the news
philadelphiaflyers: we will take great care of jamie! do not worry 🧡
philadelphiaflyers: we will make sure to water him daily & make sure he gets enough sunlight 🫡
usertwo: stopp!! the way they are describing him as a house plant 😂 i cant
mfrost16: we’ll take him out on walks too!
userthree: now he’s a dog 😭😭
userfour: i mean he did bark his first game with the flyers userthree
jackhughes: i will not be picking up the pieces if she starts to violently sob
lhughes_06: you never do
_quinnhughes: i do that
_quinnhughes: when have you ever done that bro
jackhughes: i feel attacked rn
userfive: the way the flyers flew BOTH y/n & jamie’s parents out for his first game 😭😭 warms my heart
usersix: they did?
userfive: yep! during his post game interview, someone asked if the flyers flew anyone else out for jamie & he said that he wouldn’t play if they didn’t fly y/n out as well! (jokingly of course)
usersix: that’s so freaking cute 😖
jamie.drysdale: i was completely serious userfive
philadelphiaflyers: he, in fact, was completely serious userfive
userseven: UGH GOALS 💞💞
usereight: they’ll treat him well y/n!
jamie.drysdale: i’ll miss you so much love 🤍 i’ll have the flyers fly you out whenever (& if not, then i will)
y/n.hughes: i’ll miss you more!! im so so proud of you & can’t wait to see the amazing things you’ll accomplish in philly ❤️❤️
philadelphiaflyers: y/n’s apart of the team already! we’ll fly her out whenever you want jim! just say the word ✈️✈️
y/n.hughes just posted!
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y/n.hughes: jamie photo dump during these trying & sad times
tagged: jamie.drysdale
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trevorzegras: the fifth picture is evil y/n. why you got to do my boy like that? (please send it to me asap)
y/n.hughes: check your messages babes 😚
trevorzegras: bless girl hughes ���🙏
userone: another shoe tying pic!!!
lhughes_06: uhhh, why am i not tagged in the sixth pic?? i so graciously taught your bf how to wake board & this is the thanks i get??
y/n.hughes: thank you so much luke for teaching my boyfriend how to wake board & almost kill him in the process 😑
lhughes_06: i am an amazing teacher! he did not almost die
jackhughes: dude, you almost broke his nose when you both went down after YOU jumped on him
lhughes_06: i do not recall such a thing
jamie.drysdale: i will let the fifth picture slide just this once bc i miss & love you so much 🥰 (also, almost died in the last pic 💀)
jackhughes: SEE!! lhughes_06
lhughes_06: 🎶 i cant see i’m blinnndddd🎶👨‍🦯
y/n.hughes: love & miss you more 🤍🫶🏼
_quinnhughes: the lake house that summer will forever be burned into my brain
usertwo: in a good way? 😀
userthree: THE FUCKING ‘I ❤️ MY GIRLFRIEND’ TSHIRT 😫😫😫😫😫
yourroommate: i specifically remember the first pic like it was yesterday
userfour: babes spill! what happened!!
yourroommate: y/n was not having a good week so jamie flew out for the weekend & showed up with flowers & wearing that exact shirt userfour
yourbestie: he said, and i quote, “i saw this shirt on tiktok & though you’d like it” & y/n proceeded to cry :) userfour yourroommate
y/n.hughes: why am i and my bf being exposed in this comment thread?? 🙃
userfive: WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE GOLF PIC 😫😫
y/n.hughes just posted to their story!
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caption: from #6 to #9, here’s to new beginnings! jamie.drysdale
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celtic-crossbow · 14 days
Text
Blood Ties Chapter 24
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Poorly written smut; pregnancy hormones absolutely get a warning
A/N: I kinda love this chapter.
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There was a chill in the house without a fire being burned overnight. Too many walkers made the light a liability. You had your leggings and a pair of sweats, a long sleeve shirt and a sweater, your two pairs of socks, and your jacket. Carol was going to sleep next to you while Daryl took his turn on watch that night. The woman was the complete opposite of your partner. She was a human icebox. “Jesus, Carol, your hands are freezing!” You could feel the frigid skin beneath the fabric of her gloves. “Here, put them inside my coat.” She was shaking her head even as you guided her hands under either of your arms, shivering from the sudden cold where you were much warmer. Maybe you’d tell Daryl she was staying next to you when he came to lie down. Sure, he’d grumble and groan, but he’d never let Carol freeze.
“Thank you.” The other woman sighed, moving a little closer to you. The archer had tucked the blankets around you before you had invited Carol to share.
“You’re welcome. Do you have enough of the blanket?” She nodded and snuggled against you, full on laughing when the baby gave her a swift punch to the midsection. “Yeah, sorry. Thumper is lively tonight.” You twisted your head around as far as you could manage to ensure no one had been disturbed.
“Don’t apologize. Probably just knows I’m not daddy and isn’t happy about that.”
She was absolutely right. At 34 weeks, the baby seemed to sense when Daryl was around, just as he seemed to know just when to put his hand over the swell to calm them. Moving from place to place was getting harder and harder for you. The groups of walkers seemed to be everywhere, each town full of the people who had tried to persevere, only to become one of the dead. Sometimes you would find a place, settle in, only to run two hours later. You were exhausted, physically and mentally, and Thumper could feel it. The baby would move relentlessly, only adding fuel to your anxiety and making rest impossible.
Until Daryl would intervene. 
It started the same night he had first taken the weight of the baby for you. 
Daryl stood there with you for at least an hour, bracing you against him and giving your bones and muscles a well deserved break. When he began to tire, he simply walked backwards to lean against the wall. It wasn’t until you were nearly falling asleep, he scooped you up and carried you to the bedroll, an extra blanket on top of it to give your body some support. He was expected to take watch soon but they would come collect him when it was time. So he crawled under another blanket with you, molding himself around your back, still without a single word. You were warm and felt safe, but once you had tried to sleep, Thumper became restless; rolling and kicking until you were nearly sobbing with exhaustion.
“Baby, please, mama’s so tired. Please, just—”
“Listen, kid.” You had barely registered that Daryl had moved at all, holding himself up on one hand while he leaned over your side, the other hand planted firmly on your round abdomen. The tone he used was one you hadn’t heard from him before: soft but serious, no nonsense but comforting. “Ya gotta give your mama a break. World ain’t great out here right now, an’ she needs to sleep. I promise ya ain’t gotta be scared or—or nervous. M’gonna make sure you an’ your mama are safe.” You didn’t say anything, didn’t move, barely breathed. While the baby didn’t go still, the movements calmed to flutters and ripples. “There ya go.” When he started to lie back, he caught the look on your face and flushed, ducking his head. “Book says they can hear ya. Thought it might help.”
His damn books. You could kick yourself for how frustrated you’d get with him when he only ever used the knowledge for your benefit. “It did. My god, you’re the baby whisperer.” You smiled, snuggling against him. “You’re gonna be the best daddy, Daryl. I hope you know that.” You were met with nothing more than his breath against the back of your neck. “I love you.” There was a flex of his fingers on your stomach, proving he was awake. You never said it with the expectation of him saying it back. It was simply part of your process to continue reassuring him that this was his family. He had a partner and a child, both who adored him. With your hand on top of his, the three of you slept.
No one woke him for watch.
He talked to the baby constantly now. Not one of those dads that used your bump as a pillow and had full conversations with the fetus, but would check in, let the baby know what he was doing. Whether a boy or a girl, Thumper definitely already favored their daddy. That was something with which you were fine. You wanted their relationship to be special. You weren’t afraid of not bonding with your child, but worried that Daryl feared he would never do so himself. That he might even let that fear sabotage him. 
As if keeping time inside your womb, the strong movements intensified, Thumper now expecting the presence of their father; demanding it, even. With a sigh, you opened your eyes. Carol wasn’t asleep, but smiling tenderly, finally having found some warmth even if it meant cage fighting with your unborn child. 
“S’this?” Came a rough whisper from above. You simply rolled your head to meet Daryl’s curious gaze and caught Carol’s elbow when she immediately tried to remove herself from the equation. 
“Carol’s cold and Thumper says you’re late.” To the other woman, the archer probably looked angry but you knew that look. The furrowed brow and squinted eyes. 
“Well, ya gonna make room or what?”
He didn’t like the idea of Carol in his space. He didn't need to vocalize that, and he didn’t. Carol removed herself almost completely but didn’t attempt to find somewhere when she found you watching her. You knew she’d try if only to ease Daryl’s discomfort. You weren’t thrilled that he’d be ill at ease but Carol needed to be warm and the man was literally a walking fireplace. You’d be between them, looking at him, while the three of you shared warmth. 
It took a good amount of effort—and Daryl’s assistance—for you to roll over. The woman now at your back was whispering apologies at not being the one to move when you waved a hand at her. 
“Just lay down, Carol.” You laughed as quietly as you could manage. “Snuggle as close as you can to me, okay?” Her blue eyes lifted to Daryl, now propped on his elbow in front of you. He gave her a nod before you felt the blankets being arranged and her front against your back. Her presence didn’t bother you at all. And you could have told her that Daryl would have never let her lie where he was anyway. It would mean there was a door behind you and he never let there be a way for a threat to get you without going through him. You were too tired and ready to snuggle into a warm chest. You could tell her the next day. When everyone was settled and still, you smiled tiredly at him. “Hi.”
He didn’t get to answer before practically your entire stomach shifted with Thumper’s movement. “S’like watching a fuckin’ alien movie.” Daryl grunted, fingers working down the zipper of your jacket enough to slip his hand inside and splay his fingers open across your belly. 
“Don’t say that.” You whined. Your nightmares had been plagued with imagery of a walker baby gnawing its way from your womb. You hadn’t told him about the dreams, didn’t want to put the idea in his head that it was even a possibility. True to Dixon form, however, he surprised you.
“I think ‘bout it too.” He whispered, his hand gliding back over forth over your abdomen. “Wouldn’t be no heartbeat when Hershel checks ‘em though an’ s’there. Everyday.” You sighed deeply, smiling like a lovesick idiot and snuggling against his chest while your baby already began to settle beneath his palm. “What?”
“Just thanking my lucky stars, as my daddy would suggest at this moment.” 
Daryl snorted. “What for?”
Carol shifted at your back and hummed in her sleep, her body already warm against you. “You. Thumper. This little family.” You wanted to be closer to him but without crawling under his skin, it wouldn’t be possible. And yet you were wrong. Daryl moved, angling his hip toward you so the weight of the baby could rest on him instead of pulling toward the floor. From that position, you were able to press almost flatly against his chest in complete relaxation. “Goddamnit, Daryl Dixon, I fucking love you.”
He hummed, nuzzling his cheek against your head. “So ya keep sayin’.”
“And I’ll keep saying it, too. Get used to it.”
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Another day, another drive. It was cold. The breeze from Daryl’s window wasn’t helping anything, but you dared not speak it. Even with the ventilation, all you could smell was the burning tobacco. Why the man would be smoking after pneumonia nearly killed him was something you probably would never understand. Regardless, he was considerate about it. He always made sure the smoke was never blowing in your direction. It wasn’t even something that you found unappealing. Quite the opposite. Daryl made smoking look like less of a habit and more of something that was just a natural part of him. Even with your super senses, the smell didn’t bother you. It never had.
And it wasn’t bothering you at the moment either, but that didn’t matter. He was. 
“You realize that you nearly drowned from fluid in your lungs just a few weeks ago, right?” It was a jab, unnecessary and was meant to make you feel better, but couldn’t have been further away from that result. Absolutely no one would have missed the way he clenched his jaw, barely relaxing it enough for the next drag.
“Ya realize that bein’ pregnant ain’t a excuse to be a bitch all’a the time, right?” There was an immediate spasm of regret in his expression, his hand tightening on the wheel. “Didn’t mean that. M’sorry.” Kudos to Daryl for not holding in an apology after snapping, even if the apology wasn’t need because he was 100% correct. You slumped down in the seat. One hand rubbed your itchy belly while the other reached for his forearm and squeezed it gently until his grip loosened. 
“Don’t apologize. I deserved that.” You knew full well that you were being unbearable, even if it was something beyond your control at points. You had laid into the poor man for commenting that he should go through the bags and grab you a larger sweater because you looked uncomfortable in the one that now had to stretch to accommodate the changes in your body. He hadn’t argued when you called him an inconsiderate dick and spewed off anger and insults that you couldn’t even recall.
“Nah.” He flicked the cigarette out the window. “Don’t ever deserve me or anyone else talkin’ to ya like that, pregnant or not.” Those pretty blue eyes were catching the sun just right to give them a crystal shine as he watched the road. You didn’t miss the way they flitted down to your hand still on his arm, nor did you miss his left hand start to move toward it but retract. 
You gave him a smile, one that he began to fidget underneath. With a jerk upward of his arm, he prompted you to let go. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable so you looked away, picking absently at the front of the oversized sweater he had dug out for you regardless of your tantrum.
Five and a half weeks left before you’d be roughly around forty weeks, which meant you could safely go into labor after the next week or so. While you were thrilled at the prospect of meeting Thumper, you were terrified of giving birth. So much could go wrong and there just wasn't the available equipment to ensure either comfort or safety. The thought of battling through without even the option of pain relief was daunting. You’d seen the movies, and though Lori had assured you they were all on the dramatic side, she did warn you that contractions were not still not fun. She refused to go through her birth story, wary of aggravating your nerves even more. She did add that every woman’s body was different and she couldn’t tell you much more than that. 
So what did you do? Naturally, you grabbed up one of Daryl’s books. You had placed it back in his bag after only two pages, fear doubling with anxiety to tag team in constricting your chest. He wasn’t any help, having no time to read lately. He was going by Lori’s advice and what he was learning from your cues. He was doing the best he could and you were thankful for him, even if you didn’t always show it.
Glancing over at him, slouched behind the wheel with his left thumb dragging back and forth over his bottom lip, you felt a pulse between your legs. Even with that god awful poncho, he was so fucking attractive. You’d barely let him touch you recently. He never seemed upset about it, always just pulling you closer after the initial don’t touch me had worn off. He never tried again, never questioned. Just rolling with the punches to ensure you had what you needed.
And at that very moment, your body was screaming that you needed him.
“Daryl.”
“Hmm?” He didn’t look over but your tone was level, seemingly unbothered. 
“I need you to pull over.” You licked your lips but he didn’t notice. Or maybe he did. The man had an eagle eye and an elephant brain. He glanced at you and then back to the road.
“Gotta piss again?”
Charming. “Yeah.” He always went with you now, standing on the other side of the tree so you didn’t feel like he had followed you into the bathroom. If he continued that trend this time, you’d beg him once out of sight and earshot of the group.
“One sec.” He blew the horn once, the signal to the group, and maneuvered the truck to the side of the road, just shy of the ditch. “C’mon then.” He got out and shut his own door but you didn’t move. Just as he knew your routine, you knew his. He rounded the front and opened the door for you, offering his arms to lift you from the seat and place your feet on the ground. There was a bit of strain on his face, but you tried to ignore it. The weight was from pregnancy. It’s the baby, it’s the baby. Don’t think about your weight right now.
“Thank you.” You patted his cheek and placed your hands on the small of your back, pushing your belly outward. “It’s fine.” You chuckled without even looking at him. The door had yet to shut which meant he was watching you instead. “Just stiff. Come on, I really have to pee.” Lie, lie, lie. You really needed his fingers stretching you open, his thumb against your throbbing clit. Maybe his mouth. 
“Jesus, woman. Slow down.” He huffed, having no trouble keeping stride with you. He was, of course, concerned that you’d fall in your haste. You stopped at a large oak, biting your lip with a nod. A glance back revealed the group was beyond visibility, but you’d have to be quiet. That was going to be difficult with how wound up you were. “G’on. I’ll be right here.” His back was already against the rough bark. You were suddenly reminded of the bite against your skin the day he came inside you for the first time.
Daryl reached for his knife, intent on toying with it, cleaning from underneath his nails with the sharp tip but your hand halted him from even unlatching the sheath. With a frown, he looked you over. You watched the slow process toward realization.
“Don’t really need to piss, do ya?”
“No.” You were already dragging your sweats and leggings down to your knees, taking hold of his wrist and all but slapping his hand against your damp panties. “Please.” Using your grip to hold him still, you ground your hips down for friction that would surely bring some sense of relief. “Please, Daryl.” With a sigh, he stepped forward and turned you so that your back was against his chest. He must have been feeling frustrated. How many times had you nearly had his digits slipping inside you before your body changed its mind? God, your poor partner likely had balls as blue as his eyes.
“S’alright. Y’should know by now that I’ll do whatever it is thatcha need.” And then he was pushing your underwear down one-handed and his middle finger was dipping into your entrance, your body clenching around the intrusion before it began to pulse and pull him deeper. “Fuck.” Daryl dropped his forehead to the back of your head with a groan. You were nearly dripping but this time, the burning ache for his touch wasn’t going away.
“Please.” You said again, rolling your hips, letting out a squeak when your clit pressed into the heel of his hand. “I swear it won’t take long. I just—dear god, I need you.” 
“I gotcha.” He whispered into your hair, pumping the digit in and out of your greedy cunt a mere three times before stretching you further with his index finger. The wet sounds accompanying his ministrations were absolutely filthy. “Christ, Y/N.” He was growing hard against your ass, the press of him against you nearly toppling you over the edge then and there.
“No.”
Another sigh from behind you and he was withdrawing with a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. “Better get back. They’re probably already—” The look on his face would have been hilarious if you weren't vibrating with a carnal need for him. It took all of three seconds for you to work open his pants and pull him free. There was a delectable hiss that you wanted to snatch with your teeth and bite into as if it were a living thing. Daryl’s hand shot out to brace himself against the tree as you fervently stroked him. 
“This. I need this.” You were absolutely going to implode if he didn’t touch you soon. Time was limited. Rick would bring Glenn and T-Dog to search for the pair of you if you took too long. It was time to see if Daryl was even capable of a quickie. He’d always somehow managed to fuck you for what felt like hours. You spun and placed your hands against the tree trunk, jutting out your ass, your hip bumping into the head of his cock. The moment his hand squeezed just one hip, you knew you’d need to hold on tight.
One thrust and he was bottomed out, the stretch of it painful and exquisite. Just what you needed. He wasted no time, pounding into you like his life depended on it. He was likely wound just as tight as you were. You had never been intentionally teasing him, just reacting to the will of your indecisive, hormonal body.
Thank god that same body was craving what he was giving you. 
His left hand slid around to support your belly, ever considerate of your comfort despite the frenzied state of his mind in that moment. Your clit was throbbing, begging for pressure and friction that you granted yourself for once as he skillfully plunged in and out of you, the head of him tapping that soft spot inside you that had you rising onto your tiptoes and bending as far as you could manage to open yourself up for him.
Daryl growled, an almost feral sound from deep within his chest, his thrusts growing sloppy. He was close but you were closer, already seeing stars with each stroke of your fingers. You continued to get lost in the way he was making you feel, forgetting to keep your own rhythm going. Fuck. He was going to throw you off the precipice without the need for your aid. “Right there! Oh god, Daryl—I’m gonna—”
“Ssh!” He released your hip in favor of bowing over your back to cover your mouth. He knew you too well. When his teeth bit down just to the right of your spine to muffle his own exclamations, you fell apart. Your walls clamped down on him, pulsing and squeezing until he shouted against your flesh, his hips stuttering against your ass. There was a rush of warmth inside you, welcomed and satisfying. After the spasms slowed in their intensity, Daryl gently, lazily thrust into you a few more times to ensure you rode every single wave. He didn’t slip out of you until you slouched with a contented sigh.
“God, I needed that.” You hummed as he pulled up your panties and leggings, adjusting them to be comfortable before doing the same with your sweats. “Thank you.” You whispered breathlessly, turning to face him as he tucked himself away.
“Ain’t never gotta thank me for somethin’ that’s yours, crazy girl.” The archer froze in the middle of securing his belt, staring at the ground somewhere between your boots and his. You found yourself unable to move as well, just blinking at him, wondering if that meant what you thought it did. His head was down but you could see him glancing back and forth between you and the dirt. When his hands released the leather, his right one circling your wrist, you held your breath. “Y/N —I, uh—”
“Hey!”
Glenn was one of the sweetest men you’d ever known but at that moment, you had never wanted to murder someone more in your entire life.
“You guys okay?”
Daryl grunted and let you go. “C’mon. I guess, they’re sick’a waitin’.”
You sighed but the words, the expression, the moment kept replaying as you followed him. Was he about to tell you that he loved you? It was such a strange feeling to somehow know that he did but feeling like that was made null by his unwillingness to express it. None of this was easy for him. I love you was something he had likely never heard in a way he could believe, from anyone who hadn’t at some point caused him pain. You’d wait. You’d wait forever if you had to.
They always said actions speak louder than words and his actions were absolutely roaring. You just wanted to hear it. Just once. Just wanted to be able to pluck the words from the air and lock them away in your heart to call back when you needed them during the times he couldn’t say it. 
You were nearly back to the truck when it hit you and you stopped with a heavy sigh that had your partner twisting at the waist to glance back at you. “Ya alright?”
With a wincing smile, you begrudgingly admitted: “I really do have to pee now.”
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unfinishedslurs · 1 year
Text
child lost in the grocery store (platonic stobin)
“Oh no no no no no,” Robin says, panicked. “Don’t cry, tiny child. Please don’t cry, oh God you’re crying, uh…Steve!” 
He rounds the aisle. “They’re out of Dustin’s favorite cereal,” he says sourly, before his eyes fall on the crying child Robin is kneeling by, and he raises his eyebrows. 
Help, she pleads with her eyes, and he sighs, setting the boxes he’s holding in the cart and crouching down next to them. 
“Hey there,” he greets warmly, so calm and caring it makes Robin want to throw herself into his arms and sob. “What’s wrong?”
The kid just shakes her head. 
Steve takes it with grace. “This is my friend Robin, I came here with her. Did you come here with anyone?”
“M-m-my mommy,” she blubbers. “But she’s gone.”
The sentence ends in a drawn out wail that makes her want to simultaneously hold the poor kid and slam her own head into a wall. Steve widens his eyes in sympathy. 
“That’s not good. Do you know where you last saw her?”
She shakes her head no again, and Robin stares at him, silently pleading for him to make the kid stop crying. 
He rolls his eyes at her before turning back to the kid. “That’s okay,” he soothes. “It happens sometimes. I bet she’s just as worried as you are right now. Do you want help finding her?”
A small nod, and she finally looks up, enough that Robin can see her big, bloodshot eyes. Are kids' eyes really just that big? They’re like tiny little aliens. 
“Okay, here’s what we’ll do,” Steve says confidently enough that both she and the kid relax. “We’ll go to the checkout with the nice lady, okay? And we’ll wait there for your mommy. That’s rule one of getting lost in the store, always go to the front desk.”
“Really?”
He smiles down at her, beginning to straighten up. “Oh, yeah. Sometimes I still have to do it, and I always find who I’m looking for.” He offers a hand, and the kid clings to it like he’s her last lifeline on earth. 
“What if she’s not there?” 
“Well,” he says, starting to walk towards the desk. Robin hurries to fall into step with them, and he smiles at her. “If she doesn’t come by the desk, my friend here will go find her, and tell her where you are.” He lowers his voice conspiringly. “She can be really loud.”
“Hey!” Robin protests, and the kid giggles. Giggles. If she were in any way, shape, or form attracted to men, she’d kiss him on the mouth. 
“Do you wanna tell me your name now?”
“It’s Jess!”
“Jess, huh? Short for Jessica?” She nods. “It’s a pretty name, it suits you.”
“Thank you,” she says shyly, pulling her dark hair in front of her mouth. 
“My name is Steve, this is my friend Robin.”
Jess perks up, even though Steve had introduced her earlier. Poor girl probably had bigger things to worry about. “Like the bird?”
“Exactly like the bird.” He grins. “Do you like robins, Jess?” Apparently Jess is really into birds. In the short time it takes to get to the counter, Robin has found out that robins hop on the ground to make worms think it’s raining, that you should feed ducks seeds instead of bread, and Jess’s favorite kind of bird is a woodpecker.
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daisies-daydreams · 3 months
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IDK IF YOUVE DONE THIS BUT CAN I GET A HOBIE X GOOD GIRL!READER?! SMUT OR FLUFF WORKS IT DOENST MATTER BUT LIKE READER IS STRESSED OVER STUFF AND HOBIE CALMS HER DIWNDBSHWJWJWJE PLEASE I LOVE YOUR WORK <33
Relief (Hobie Brown x Good Girl!Reader)
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Pairing: Hobie Brown x Good Girl!Reader Category: Fluff/Smut Warnings: Depictions of Stress/Burnout, Hickeys, Making Out, “First Time”, Fingering, Nipple Play, Swearing Word Count: TBA Song Rec: Absolute Territory (Ken Ashcorp) A/N: AHHHH I shit you not I had the most absolutely stressful week - like I was having tremors I was so stressed so this came at the perfect time 😭 Anyway, Hobie would be so soft and supportive fr🙏 Thank you for your sweet request and I hope you enjoy!
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Tears lined the corners of your eyes as you violently opened the door to your dorm suite. You threw your bag onto the couch before flopping down yourself. Your muffled cried reverberated inside your small living room as you stuffed your face into a pillow. You curled your fists as your jaw tightened, the room growing hotter by the second as you squeezed your eyes shut. 
“Lovie?” you heard Hobie hum. You gasped and perked your head up, only to shove it back down in shame. “(Y/N), what’s wrong?” your boyfriend asked as he stepped closer. You sniffled while Hobie sank onto the cushion next to you, the furniture creaking as he laid a hand on your upper back. You slowly tilted your head up, your chest aching before you sprung into his arms. 
“Shhh, I’m here, lovie,” your love reassured you as he wrapped his arms around your trembling form. You nearly choked on a violent sob as you sat in his lap, your legs draped over his own while you ducked your head into his shoulder. Hobie hummed softly while he rubbed up and down your back. Your breathing began even as he began to press quick, little pecks to the top of your head. You sighed, your warm breath falling over his collarbone as he let his lips linger on the crown of your head. 
“You wanna talk about it?” Hobie murmured as he smoothed one of his hands over your hip. Your bottom lip trembled as you wiped at your puffy eyes. 
“I-I don’t know what’s come over me,” you hiccuped. Hobie continued to stroke over your ruffled clothes as you sighed heavily. “I failed my test today, and because of that, I got so flustered during my public speaking course that I stuttered over and over…in front of two-hundred students,” you groaned as bitter tears rolled down your cheeks. “I can’t do anything right,” you muttered while hanging your head in defeat. 
“Oi, look at me,” your boyfriend gently coaxed you. You slowly lifted your gaze before squeaking as he stole a kiss. 
“H-Hobie,” you blushed as you rested your fingertips over your lips, the warmth of his touch still lingering on your soft skin. He gave you a small smirk before peppering your face with several kisses. “Babe!” you laughed as he bombarded you with quick, passionate smooches. You felt him smile against your cheek before he pulled back again. 
“Still havin’ those nasty thoughts about yourself?” he asked. You bit your lip and shook your head, your heart racing a little faster as you brought your hands up to his shoulders. “Good,” Hobie gave a lopsided grin before he kissed your cheek again. You smiled at his attempts to distract you, but the crushing weight of feeling inferior began to push back. You released a long, shaky breath before you felt him nip at your earlobe. 
“I see your gears turnin’,” he rumbled before letting his hands slide up and down your sides, his fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You stifled a small moan as he kissed behind your ear, his hands squeezing your hips as he suckled on your delicate skin. “You want me to help you…relax a bit more?” Hobie murmured as he slid a hand over the top of your thigh. You swallowed and parted your lips. 
Sure, the two of you have made out a few times, but it’s never really gotten past that point. 
“We don’t have to if-“ 
“I want to,” you cut him off. He blinked as you glanced away and heat filled your cheeks. “I-I mean, I’d like for you to-“ you felt your throat tighten as you wiggled your hips a little in his lap. You felt a surge of arousal sweep through your body as he slid his hand beneath your chin and gently caressed your face. 
“What do you want me to do, (Y/N)?” he asked, a mixture of affection and arousal dripping from his words. Your heart raced as he began to tease your neck with small kisses up and down your pulse. You swallowed again as you squeezed your eyes shut, your tongue refusing to utter such a lewd request. “C’mon, sweet girl…use your words,” Hobie encouraged as his hand rested on top of your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze. Your eyes snapped open as you took a deep breath. 
“I-I want you to…finger me,” you finally manage to say, each word growing quieter than the last. Hobie’s eyes glowed with excitement as he hummed. 
“Finger you, hm?” your boyfriend asked. You nodded vigorously, your body already growing hotter the longer he kept his hands on your thighs. 
“Please, Hobie. I want…need to feel you,” you whined and gently rocked your hips forward. Hobie’s eyes widened at your bold confession. A smirk crossed his face before he kissed your forehead. 
“Turn around f’me then,” he cooed. Your hands were practically shaking as you slid off of his lap, your sex yearning for his tender touch as you squeezed your thighs together. Your breath hitched when you felt him unlatch the back of your long skirt, the fabric crumpling around your feet as you shivered. You flinched when he hooked his fingers around the band of your soft panties. 
“W-Wait!” you blushed. Hobie paused, his fingers just barely pulling your clothing down your hips as you gulped. “C-Could we keep these on for now?” you blushed while peeking over your shoulder. Hobie grinned softly as he pulled them back up. 
“Sure thing, lovie,” he murmured before patting his lap. Your head spun as you stepped back. Your heart felt like it was about to burst as you sank down, your legs draped over his wet pussy rubbing against the thin fabric of your panties. Your jaw nearly dropped when you felt something hard rub between your asscheeks. “Mmm, there’s my pretty girl,” Hobie groaned into your ear as his hands dipped beneath your shirt. 
You keened as he pecked the corner of your jaw, his kisses airy and light as he slid his fingertips beneath your bra. You arched your back as he dipped his head even lower, his plump lips puckering over your aching pulse. You squirmed in his lap as you felt him brush his fingers across your hard nipples, his warm breath falling over your skin while he played with your sensitive buds. 
“You’ve got such pretty tits, y’know that?” he murmured, his lips dancing over the shell of your ear. You blushed and turned your head away, the pleasure already overwhelming your senses. Hobie chuckled before he gently squeezed your nipples between his long, heavy fingers. “I’d like to see them, if that’s alright with you,” he whispered. You nodded, your mind fuzzy with arousal as you arched into his touch. Hobie sighed as his hands soon made quick work of your bra. You shuddered as he slipped the fabric off before rolling your shirt above your head. 
You wriggled in his lap as you sat almost completely exposed, your nipples growing even harder as the cool air of your living room kissed them. Hobie was being unusually quiet behind you, his large palms smoothing over your hips as his breath fell over your ear. You felt your cheeks warm even more as tears welled in your eyes. Why wasn’t he doing anything? Did he actually change his mind? Are you-  
“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous,” he breathed. You opened your eyes, blinking rapidly before turning your head. Your boyfriend wore the softest smile you’ve ever seen - your heart melting into a puddle as you gazed into his warm eyes. You began to relax against him as he captured your lips in a slow, tender kiss. You sighed at the soft contact as your lips connected in a passionate caress, the sound of soft smacking echoing through the room as you moved and tilted your heads. You squeaked when you felt him squeeze one of your breasts while he parted from the kiss. 
“Let me know if I’m goin’ too far, okay?” he whispered, eyes soft and breath ragged. You nodded. 
“I-I will,” you panted. Hobie smiled before he kissed the corner of your mouth while tenderly massaging your soft tit. 
“Good girl,” he praised. His words sent a spark of pleasure through your cunt as he locked lips with you again, his movements growing more heated and passionate by the second as he pressed his warm palm against your areola. You moaned quietly as you felt him gently pinch your bud between his fingers while he slipped the tip of his tongue inside your juicy mouth. 
You parted your lips even more, gasping when you felt his whole tongue sink inside your wet cavern. Hobie groaned as your tongues glided in a passionate dance, the sounds of wet smacking making your thighs tremble and pussy pulse with heat. You felt no shame as you bucked your hips forward, your spine curving as you ached for his fingers stretching you wide open. Hobie hummed before he pulled back, his lips glossy with your combined spit as he watched you helplessly grind on his lap. 
“You ready f’me?” he murmured, his hold on your nipple growing looser as you shivered. You nodded and tilted your head back, your lungs burning for air as your heart pounded. 
“P-Please Hobie. I want you,” you gulped. Hobie cracked a small grin as he gently squeezed your breast. You tensed as his other hand traveled from your hip to your stomach. 
“You sure about this, doll?” he asked. You bit your lip and swallowed thickly. 
“Yes,” you could barely make that single word, your throat strained as desire clouded your mind. Hobie smiled against your cheek as he dipped his hand even lower, his fingertips gliding over your juicy slit. You mewled as he gently parted your puffy lower lips, your bundle of nerves pulsing as the sides of his fingers rubbed against it. 
“You ever do this to yourself?” Hobie rumbled as he slowly rubbed your clit, his thumb working in tight, small circles. You jolted as a shockwave of pleasure rolled through your body, your walls clamping down on nothing as you squealed. 
“O-Only a few times,” you confessed as your cheeks burned. A sharp cry fell from your lips as he began to massage your engorged clit even faster. You moaned as his lips found your neck again, lingering for much longer as he sucked a hickey over your pulse. You thrashed against him, your body trembling as your breathing grew ragged. 
No, you couldn’t cum yet. Not before he could even put one finger inside you. 
Your eyes snapped open when Hobie licked over the hickey on your neck, his warm tongue feeling like silk caressing over your skin as you whined. 
“God you’re so fuckin’ sexy - so wet already,” he murmured as he slid one of his fingers down your slit. You arched your back as he pushed your panties to the side, the air kissing your exposed folds as he slid his fingertip over the seam of your weeping hole. Your eyes rolled back as your boyfriend continued his relentless touch on your clit, your chest heaving at every soft stroke and swipe of his thumb. 
“H-Hobie,” you keened and squirmed as he continued to tease your slick entrance, slowly rubbing his finger up and down, back and forth. Hobie purred as he suckled on your neck, your body shivering as you threw your head against his bony shoulder. You gasped as you heard the slick “pop” of his lips leaving your skin, a fresh, tender hickey blooming across your neck. Your throat grew even tighter as he curled his finger against your entrance. 
“Gonna take it slow,” he rasped as he squeezed your breast again. You mewled and nodded, your head dizzy as your heart pounded inside your ears. Hobie smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips before he sank his digit inside you. Your lips drew into a straight line as you felt your walls open up around him, the slight burn making you stifle a yelp. 
“Shhh, just relax, baby,” Hobie cooed while kissing your cheek. You swallowed and tried to take a deep breath, his long finger sinking even deeper inside you. You tried to stay still in his lap as he smeared some of your slick over your plush button before drawing slow, sloppy shapes around it. You parted your lips and moaned as you felt every ridge and curve of his digit caress your slick, gummy walls, the slight sting of the stretch melting into pleasure with each inch he sank inside of you. 
You gasped when Hobie’s digit bottomed out inside you, his finger knuckle-deep as he let you adjust to being stretched out. You released a shaky breath as he slowly began to pump his digit, his other hand gripping and teasing your tit as he kissed behind your ear. 
“You feel so good ‘n tight - bet you’d feel heavenly wrapped around my cock,” Hobie rumbled as your cunt squelched lewdly with each thrust of his finger. The thought made you cry out in pleasure as he trailed his lips over your pulse once more. You bucked your hips forward as his finger continued to rub against your plush walls, each stroke leaving you more breathless than the last. 
“Mmmm Hobie,” you keened as he flicked his thumb against your clit, a spark of pleasure shooting through your core and turning your legs to jelly. Your jaw went slack when you felt another finger slowly slip inside you, stretching you in a painfully delicious way. 
“Am I hurtin’ you?” your boyfriend whispered as he continued his slow pace inside your cunt. You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded. Hobie cooed before he slowed to a stop, letting you adjust to two of his digits inside you. “You’re doin’ such a good job, baby girl,” he praised before peppering your cheek with soft kisses. “Takin’ my fingers so fuckin’ well,” Hobie grunted, his thumb still working circles around your puffy bundle of nerves. 
“H-Hobieee,” you mewled and pushed your chest out. Your love sighed as he smirked against your ear. 
“You feel me there, love?” Hobie purred as he pushed his fingertips against your g-spot. You gasped as your eyes rolled back, your thighs trembling as you felt a wave of pleasure rush through your body. “Feel my fingers stuffed deep inside your tight, perfect cunt, hm?” he murmured before swiping his tongue behind your ear. 
“Y-Yes,” you nearly choked. Hobie grinned before he slowly began to thrust both of his digits in and out of you. Your legs shook as your walls fluttered around his long fingers, the burn once again melting into a mind-numbing pleasure as he pumped his digits inside your tight cunt. You bit your lip as a loud moan threatened to slip past your lips. You whined when he let his thumb up from your clit. 
“I don’t want you to hold back - make as much noise as you want. Let the whole bloody building know who’s makin’ you feel this good,” Hobie growled, his eyes lit with a burning lust as he moved his fingers even faster. You gasped before suddenly moaning, your sweet sounds bouncing off of the thin walls of your dorm as you felt him stroke deeper inside your dripping sex. 
“Yes!” you cried out while hooking your hands behind his neck. Your juices soaked his long digits, dripping down his knuckles and palm as you moved your hips with his thrusts. Hobie groaned as he pressed his thumb on your bud, his other hand now falling to your hip as he swiped his tongue across the shell of your ear. 
“That’s it…that’s my good girl,” your love rumbled. You gasped when you felt your cunt suddenly clamp down on his digits, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. 
“H-Hobie!” you screamed as your pussy flooded his hand with your warm, slick cream. Hobie released a sound you’ve never heard him make: a mix of a feral growl and a sultry moan as he continued to rub his fingers along your pulsing walls. 
“God, you look so pretty when you cum,” he murmured while gently pressing down on your spongey g-spot. You moaned as another wave of pleasure crashed over you, your body trembling uncontrollably as your soft mewls filled the room. 
“F-Fuck,” you gasped as your high began to fade. You panted wildly as your vision began to clear, your heart still racing as you began to relax in his hold. You blushed when you felt how wet his hand was against your burning sex as he kept his fingers stuffed between your raw, sensitive walls. 
“You did so well, baby girl,” your boyfriend whispered. Hobie cooed as he slowly pulled his digits out of your soaked pussy, your hole puckering as soon as his fingertips slipped out of you. He gently kissed your temple as hot tears of post-coital bliss trickled down your cheeks. “You feelin’ alright?” Hobie asked. You sniffed and nodded, your mind swimming in a sea of pleasure as you gasped for air. 
“Y-Yes, just need to catch my breath,” you panted. Hobie hummed as he patted your hips. The two of you sat in silence for a while, simply soaking in each other’s presence as the sun dipped behind the line of trees beside your dorm. You soon found your eyelids growing heavy as you relaxed on his lap. Hobie sighed before kissing the corner of your mouth. 
“Feel any better?” he chuckled with a smirk. You grinned and returned his kiss, letting your lips linger on his before resting your forehead against his neck. 
“Much better,” you giggled softly.  ————
Thank you for reading! 💖
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soraontop · 4 months
Text
THE TRUTH UNTOLD
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title the truth untold ( pt. 1 of 10 things i hate about you series )
summary how it all begins.
genre angst, fluff towards the end, slice of life
characters jung sora (8th female member oc of enhypen), nam iseul (female oc, former 9th female member oc of enhypen), park jongseong, park sunghoon (briefly), brief cameos of other enhypen members
warnings poly ot7 enhypen au with 8th female member. knetz are really mean to sora. slut shaming, self-deprecating thoughts. enhypen are still learning about sora’s many, many layers. unrequited (?) love. idiots in love. pining.
words 2412
note aaaa okay sorry it took a min. here is the first part of how enhasora began. just letting you know … prepare for a ride cause im not gonna make it easy on them. 🫶🫶
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Jung Sora knew one thing before ENHYPEN debuted. She was absolutely and utterly fucked.
It starts a month before ENHYPEN’s debut. Iseul gathers Sora and the seven boys in their living room, the room cluttered as always when all nine of them were in their tiny dorm. She knows what’s coming before it leaves Iseul’s mouth. She thinks of how she knows Iseul better than anyone.
“I’m leaving ENHYPEN.”
The room goes still, and Sora’s heart drops, even though she expected it. There’s an awful, funny feeling in the pit of her stomach and she feels like she’s going to throw her breakfast back up.
Sora inhales sharply and that seems to break the rest of the members’ silence.
“You’re kidding, right,” Jake chuckles, head ducking down. They wait for her to laugh, telling them it’s a joke. But she doesn’t. His head snaps up, “Wait, seriously?”
At Iseul’s silence, Sunghoon stands and walks out of the living room, slamming the door to the bedroom shut. Sora flinches, closing her eyes briefly. She feels eyes on her and looks to see Heeseung staring at her. She smiles weakly, breaking eye contact to turn back to Iseul.
“I don’t understand,” Niki said, brows furrowing. “Why? We haven’t even debuted yet.”
Iseul swallows, “I— I thought I could do it, but I can’t.” Her eyes connect with Sora and her eyes are shining, bottom lip trembling. “Sora … you understand, don’t you?” Her voice breaks, hand reaching out for the younger girl to hold.
Sora stares at her hand for a moment, disappointment settling in. This was really happening. She looks back up, and a tear falls from Iseul’s eyes. She pushes her feelings aside, forcing a weak smile as her own eyes become wet, “Unnie … You know I do.” Their hands clasp together, fingers intertwining tightly. She swallows the lump in her throat, “I want to tell you to stay. I don’t want you to leave.” The other members watch as she blinks away her tears, never one to cry in front of others. “But I know you’ve already made your mind up. You’ve already booked your train ride home, too, haven’t you?” When a sob rips out from Iseul’s chest and she nods slowly, she nods back. She stands up, pulling Iseul in for a hug, shocking the older girl.
They hold each other tightly and Sora whispers for only her to hear, “I love you, unnie.” She pulls back a moment later, glancing at the boys who are still staring in confusion. They don’t know the reason. She sighs, turning back to Iseul. “I’m going to …” She turns her head but Iseul already knows where she’s going, sniffling and nodding.
As Sora walks away, she knows there is no use to beg Iseul to stay. If she didn’t want to debut so badly, she’d go with her. But she’s always wanted to be an idol— it was her dream. She had been a trainee for far too long to just give up now because netizens didn’t like that she was a girl in a boy group.
She hesitantly stops at the bedroom door, bringing up her fist before stopping. She stands there for a moment before breathing in and out, gathering the courage to knock on the door. “Sunghoon?”
There’s no answer. She sighs.
“Please … Just hear her out,” is all she has to say before he’s ripping the door open and pulling her in. The door closes behind her and he’s staring at her, face blank. If she didn’t know him so well by now, she’d think he was angry at her. He was angry, yes, but not at her. “You don’t understand.”
“Then make me understand,” Sunghoon fires back.
“Imagine you’re in our shoes. We’re the only girls in a group full of boys, set to become idols in front of thousands of girls who already have their claws in you. You know how fans are, they think you’re theirs,” Sora says in one breath. “They see us as competition and they don’t like that.”
“We get the same reaction from guys—”
“No, you don’t,” she shakes her head, “They call us sluts. Whores. They pat you on the back and say, ‘Wow, aren’t you lucky with the ladies?’” She tilts her head, smiling a patronizing smile. “It’s always been like this. And it’s always going to be harder on us.”
She doesn’t stay for a second longer, hoping her words get into Sunghoon’s head as she leaves. Iseul is still talking to the boys as she heads to their shared room. No, her room. Only her room now.
When the door shuts behind her and she climbs into her bed, shoving her face into her pillow, she finally allows the tears to fall.
When Iseul comes into their room a few hours later, she pats Sora on the head and climbs into bed with her. They hold each other and don’t speak for a very long time.
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It’s weird without Iseul, Sora decides a few days later after Iseul has gone back home. It’s like the boys are walking on eggshells around her and she hates it. She tries to go back to normal, but it’s hard when they won’t let her.
After Niki allows her to serve his food, she stares at him for a moment, expecting him to protest, but he doesn’t. He only thanks her and begins eating. She waits another second, before turning away. Her eyes connect with Heeseung’s and she bites her lip, forcing herself to look away. Jay is now staring at her and she blinks.
A warm feeling washes over her body and she turns her head abruptly. She knows if she looked in the mirror right now, her cheeks would be red. She hates this feeling. She hates feeling vulnerable, like he can just tell what she’s thinking with just one look. She wishes he didn’t pay her so much attention. Then maybe it would be easier to get over him.
Sora sits down at her spot at the table after Heeseung hands her her plate as the boys engage in conversation, allowing her to eat her food silently. She hates herself. It’s a bold statement, but she does. All the things netizens are saying about her, that she’s a slut— that she likes one of the boys, or worse, even all of them. That she paid her way into debuting, either by actual money or other … favors. She’s just proving all of them right.
When she first read the comments about her, after the final episode of I-LAND aired, she was appalled. She felt sick to her stomach. How could anyone assume that of her? How could anyone say something like that to anyone? She doesn’t know how many times she’s cried herself to sleep or gotten so sick that she threw up nothing.
She knew the expectations of an idol, she’d been one for a year when she was thirteen with I.O.I. But that was nothing like this.
“Sora?”
Her head snaps up, eyes widening as she looks around the table. All seven of them are staring at her. She hopes she didn’t miss anything too important. She puts down her utensils, realizing she hadn’t even been eating. Just playing with her food.
Sora clears her throat, “Yeah?”
“Are you not hungry?” Jake switches to English, glancing down at her plate. “You should eat.”
“Ah …” She looks at it, too. She’s sheepish as she looks up, “Yeah. I had a big breakfast.” Everyone knows that’s a lie. But she doesn’t allow any room for argument as she stands up, “I’m going to put it in the fridge and I’ll clean dishes once all of you are done. Anyone want anything?” She almost expects one of them, Heeseung, most likely, to protest and tell her to go lay down, but they don’t. She bites down on her bottom lip, slightly ducking her head so her hair will hide her face. “Okay,” she says quietly, quickly taking her plate and walking into the kitchen.
Sora doesn’t know why she’s so disappointed. She hates being taken care of. She’s used to being the one to take care of others. She shouldn’t feel this way. She shouldn’t feel any of this.
Her phone rings in her jacket pocket right as she finishes putting her plate in the fridge. She checks the contact name.
Dad.
Sora blinks. And then stares at it some more. She allows it to continue ringing, staring at the screen until she hears footsteps heading her way. She quickly silences it, shoving it back in her pocket and leaving the kitchen just as Sunoo comes in. She doesn’t make eye contact, making sure to not brush against him as she leaves.
She can feel their eyes on her as she leaves. She wishes someone would say something.
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LITTLE BIG BRO: Noona, are you having fun?
LITTLE BIG BRO: I miss you.
Sora hates feelings, she decides. She’s staring at the text messages from Kangmin, her oldest younger brother. His contact photo stares back. She goes to type something back, but she doesn’t know what to say. Does she lie? Say she’s having fun? Say she misses him, too?
If she said she misses him, would that be a lie, too?
Guilt creeps in at the thought and she hates herself more for even thinking it. Of course, she misses her brothers. They were always around, always messing with her and begging for her attention every second.
Sora turns her phone off, throwing it on what used to be Iseul’s bed. She shoves her head under her pillow, wanting to scream. There’s a knock on the door and then— “Sora? Can I come in?”
She bolts up in her bed, eyes automatically heading to the mirror in the room. Her hair is a mess, her cheeks are puffy, and her lips are dry. She quickly combs her fingers through her hair, searching for her lipbalm and smoothing it over her lips. She clears her throat as Jay knocks again, “Yeah, oppa. Come in.”
Jay steps inside the room, eyes roaming around as if he hasn’t seen it a hundred times before. But now it’s different, she tells herself. One half of the room is gone now. Empty. Before she can dive into her self-deprecating thoughts once more, she pats the bed beside her, “What’s up?”
Jay complies, staring down at his lap for a second. He had practiced this for a while before he even left his own room, but now that he was here, it was like all of it left his mind. He sighs, looking up at Sora who looked at him in confusion, “Do you want to talk?”
Sora blinks. “Talk? About what?” She knew what he was talking about and he knew that she knew. But he indulged her, anyway. He always would.
“Iseul noona,” Jay says gently, hand twitching by his side as if he were about to hold her hand. “You didn’t stay.”
“I went to talk to Sunghoon-oppa,” she murmurs, rubbing her palm on her sweatpants. “He needed to understand.”
“And he does, now,” he says. “I …” He sighs, “You’re not like yourself, Sora. Are you uncomfortable around us without noona here?”
Sora blinks in shock, head snapping up to look at him, “What? No! I’ve been friends with some of you before unnie and I even met. If anything,” her voice grows stronger, “It’s you guys who haven’t been yourselves. You’re uncomfortable with me.”
Jay doesn’t know how she can come to that conclusion. “What? No, we love you.”
Her heart warms at the confession, but she forces it down, “You guys keep just … letting me walk all over you! Letting me do whatever, walking around me like I’m about to break. I hate it. I hate it so much.”
Jay blinks. And opens his mouth before hesitating. He closes his mouth. “What … I thought you liked doing all that? We all did. That’s why we’re not stopping you like we usually do. We thought it’d make you feel better.”
Sora swallows, suddenly realizing what she had confessed after hearing his words. She looks down to her blanket, playing with the end of it.
“Sora,” he sighs at her silence. “It’s okay to want to be taken care of sometimes. You know I’m— we’re,” he clears his throat, “—always here for you. No matter what.” His eyes focus, becoming a little stern, “Okay?”
She looks up, studying the look in his eyes. She doesn’t recognize it. She wants to change the subject. “Okay.” She still doesn’t fully believe his words and he can tell.
Jay abruptly cups her cheek with his hand and her eyes widened, cheeks flushing red. His hand is warm, fingers slightly rough as his thumb smooths over her cheekbone. “Sora. Listen to me. If you need anything, if you want to talk about anything, you can come to me. You don’t always have to do things yourself. It’s okay to ask for help. You will never need to do anything by yourself when you have us.”
Her heart is beating erratically and she’s pretty sure Jay can hear it, he’s so close to her. God, that’s so embarrassing. Her eyes nervously dart away from his, laughing nervously at his words, “Ah, alright, alright. I get it, oppa. I understand now.” She pauses for a moment, before asking, “Does this mean you guys will go back to normal now? I … I miss the way it was.” Her voice grew quieter with the last sentence.
Jay chuckles, “Yeah, I’ll tell them.”
“But don’t tell them I said any of that,” she points her finger at him, trying to gain the upperhand again. She straightens up, and his hand falls from her cheek. She tries not to seem disappointed.
Jay’s smile is endearing, teasing but gentle, “Whatever you want … Baby.” His smile grows larger at her reaction, not expecting him to use the petname as it came out of Heeseung or Jake’s mouths more. Her eyes widen comically with appalled rage in them, mouth dropping open. Her cheeks are still red, hair a little messed up but she’s still pretty as the first time he saw her in the halls of BigHit.
“Yah! Don’t call me baby. I’m not a baby, you’re a baby, baby.”
“Whatever you say, baby.”
NEXT.
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lidiasloca · 7 months
Text
more than this (azriel x reader)
summary: after Azriel and reader had a summer together, the last thing Az was expecting was to face her again. (angst).
previous chapter
chapter six
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You close the door behind you, and the sound of it reverberates across the loud silence.
You eye Azriel; he’s standing very still, looking at you expectantly, as if anticipating the first blow to be yours.
But after a while, he seems to understand you are expecting him to talk first.
“Elain - she told you something,” he says but it sounds like a question.
At that, you feel your jaw clench, your whole face tensing into trying so hard to not let tears fall. He sees that, or at least his shadows do; running near his ear, whispering things you cannot hear, nor wish to hear.
He takes a cautious step towards you. You instantly take a step back. “Y/n,” he breathes as if in pain. “Please, let me explain.”
You let out a humorless laugh. “You won’t dare deny it, will you?” you say, mustering raw sarcasm in your tone to disguise your hurt. “You won’t have come all this way to deny it.” Too soon you feel tears running down your cheek. “Right?”
You hate it, and you hate yourself for being so weak. But above it, you hate him.
Selfish, manipulative, hurtful, lying Azriel.
Someone you wish you hadn’t met.
Someone you wish had only stayed as a summer memory.
Nonetheless, you find yourself waiting for his answer like a fool. Hoping you’re wrong, very wrong. 
But you are not; you’re sure of that when he avoids your eyes, when he clenches his fists.
“Well, it’s pretty secret, -you know Azriel-, but we… sort of have something.”
“For how long?”
 “Somewhere in May.”
You try to stop a sob, putting your hand over your mouth swiftly. Closing your eyes tightly, not bearing the sight of him.
“Y/n,” you hear him whisper even though your ears are ringing, blurring the exterior sounds. 
Then you feel his hands on your shoulders, and it brings you back to here, to now, to him. 
You open your teary eyes, meeting with his, noticing the lack of life in them. Nothing similar to their hazel color during the summer.
“Y/n.”
Another sob passes your lips. “You lied. To me, to her - Azriel, you lied.”
“I’m so sorry,” he says sounding desperate.
“Why did you have to lie? I tru - I trusted you. She trusted you!” You try to talk, to let him know how much you hate him, but the pressure in your throat is making it quite impossible. And you know the tears all over your face make you look pathetic. “She was telling me how you taught her training stuff. Gods. She told me about you as I was looking her - looking her dead in the eye knowing damn well what I had done. What you had done!”
“I’m so sorry, Y/n.”
“Stop saying that! You are not sorry at all; you don’t care at all. Not for me. I always was just a side ting. A toy. Never - never anything more to you. You have never cared.”
He moves his hand to your wet checks. “That’s not true. Y/n. That’s not true, I swear.”
I swear.
“You want me to believe you now? Really, Azriel?”
“I’m telling you the truth,” he replies, his eyes pleading. But you don’t buy it, not anymore. Especially not when his scarred fingers caress your face, coaxing you to calmness. “Stop lying! You were with her, you are still with her! You li-”
“I’m not with her anymore, Y/n,” he cuts you off. “And I’ve always cared for you. Always. So much that when I first met you - this past summer - I couldn’t stop myself.” You watch him struggle with words, trying to not duck his head at your glaring. “I had to know you. I had to. And after that night, I couldn’t keep myself away from you. I wanted to be with you all the time. And I knew if I only had that summer away, only that summer to be with you, I had to take the opportunity. And I selfishly did.”
You watch him incredulously, taking the words in.
“I’m so sorry. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you, Y/n, I swear. But when you came to the House of Wind - when I saw you again. Gods, I didn’t know what to do. I was so mad at myself - at the imminent consequences of my acts. And I - I hold that anger against you. And I’m so sorry; for that and for - for lying to you. I will be eternally sorry.”
It disgusts you; every single word he’s saying, the way he’s eyes scan your face, and especially, the way his hands cup your face. These same hands that weren’t meant to have touched you in the first place. It utterly disgusts you.
“Don’t touch me,” you whisper angrily. His touch falters but doesn’t back up. “Don’t touch me with those han-” The shout dies in your throat at the instant realization of your words.
But it’s too late.
He removes his scarred hands and hides them behind his back. And though it’s not what you had meant; never had you been anything but adoring of every part of him, especially his hands. So his. Hands that held a story of him he had told you with trust and comfort. You cannot help but feel glad you are hurting him back.
Maybe you’re just as depraved as him. 
“Don’t hate me, Y/n. Please.”
He deserves it, you make yourself think.
You dry your tears with your sleeves quickly and make yourself say, ignoring his previous words, “You’ve already explained yourself; now, go.”
He moves again closer to you. “Please don’t-”
“Go, Azriel! Just go,” you cut him.
“Ple-”
“Azriel, get out. Or I will make Helion drag you out of the court.”
“I have more to say,” he mutters, his voice suddenly dangerous. You know the mention of Helion is the reason. 
“I do not care.”
His eyes close but he doesn’t accept defeat. Not at all. “Gods - what do you want me to say?!” Your mouth parts in surprise at the angry tone he uses. He has no right - absolutely no right - to be mad. “What the hell do I have to say exactly for you to forgive me?!”
“Don’t you dare raise your voice, Azriel. I said go!”
“No.” He replies. “Don’t push me away.” He takes your wrist softly, but you try to pull away, failing as he catches it again, this time more restraining. “Y/n, you don’t understand, I-”
Then silence.
“You what?”
“I still cannot bear not being near you. Y/n, I’ve tried, but since that day, at the House of Wind, where I got to be close to you again, alone in that room, something - I felt… alive, lighter. And I had missed you so much, I realized. I don’t want to miss you anymore.”
As more tears threaten to fall, you consider backing off yourself. Leaving the room before you humiliate yourself. 
This, this was all you had ever wanted to hear. 
But not now, not anymore.
“Get out,” you breathe, staring at his eyes.
He is too close.
“You don’t want to listen. You don’t want to hear the truth,” he says slowly as if he didn’t want the words to actually get out.
“You know nothing about truth.” You reply, still feeling his scarred hand on your wrist. 
Azriel sighs as if in exhaustion. “What I did was so wrong; I know, and I will never forgive myself for hurting you that way. But, please, Y/n, you know me, I’ve told you everything, you know my heart; let’s not - please don’t waste this that we have.”
He had sure as hell not told you everything.
You glare at him. “We have nothing, Azriel. You said it yourself; ‘only one summer, then, nothing’.”
“I was so wron-.”
“It was your rule,” you interrupt him.
“It was!” He shouts, which makes you take a step backward, having him follow you immediately, towering over you as his hands still hold yours. You feel trapped. “It was a stupid rule I made for myself, 'cause no matter how much I wanted you, it was Elain who was supposed my mate! The third sister - It was supposed to be her.” His eyes then open in shock. “It was supposed to…”
Your breathing stops as you feel your heart break.
Wholly break.
He never deemed it possible for you to be his mate next to the Archeron sister.
But sadness doesn’t have a chance next to the bizarre feeling within your soul. It snaps you back to reality.
Azriel… 
Your mate.
“Y/n,” he breathes
“Get out,” you whisper for the hundredth time.
“No, Y/n, please; don’t do this.”
“Get out, please,” you plead, trying to get rid of his hold on your wrist, but it only makes him hold you tighter, walk even closer to you, till you have to tilt your head at a hurtful angle. 
“Don’t you feel it as well?” he asks.
Your mate.
“Get out.”
“Gods - Y/n, do not do this,” he cries, his face holding more emotion than it ever had. “Don’t ignore this. Don’t turn from us.”
You let out a humorless laugh. “There is no us. No matter what we are - no matter whatever, you made your choices. Choices that’ll condition everything. Choices that make us nothing.”
You watch tears cascading down his cheeks as he moves his other hand to hold you as well.
“Let go, Azriel, you’re hurting me,” you mumble.
But he doesn't seem to hear your words, as if in a trance. “I- please.” More tears start to fall from his pained eyes.
“I will call Helion in, Azriel; get out.”
“Don’t do this. Gods - Y/n, we are mates! How can-”
“Let me go, you’re hurti-”
“- you shove me away?” he continues over your protests. “I understand you are mad at me. But please just take your time to think. Don’t - don’t decide now. Please, Y/n. Just don’t turn from us.”
“No, Azriel!” He finally pays you attention, now that you are truly shouting. “I don’t want anything to do with you; a hurtful liar who hurts me just because he can. Who makes his choices abusing his power over others. I don’t want anything with you. I never will with a male like you.” 
He holds your gaze, his touch faltering yet still too tight. More tears fall every time he blinks. 
So you decide you have to do it; you have to make the last blow.
You have to ensure he hates you as much as you want to hate him.
So you spare a last glance at his hands on your wrists and then look up to him. “Maybe you’re just like your father, after all.”
And the aftermath it’s just blurry and vague; a memory you’d be better off forgetting. How more tears rolled down his shocked face. How his eyes lost all life in them. How he immediately moved his hands away from you as if your skin burned him. How he lingered in front of you for some seconds before he had it in himself to turn to the door.
How he left.
-Characters by Sarah J. Maas
HEY! IF YOU LIKED THIS, YOU CAN CHECK OUT MY AZRIEL MASTERLIST HERE <3
well, the best defense is a good offense, ig. i literally have been listening to "if i were a boy" on repeat as I wrote this lol. oh, and i did told you i was inspired by august by taylor swift - so.
tag list:
@kalulakunundrum @bubybubsters @goradgirl @kennedy-brooke @going-through-shit @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @linoisqt @minakay @nastynesta @lockedinmytower @stargirl1714 @justagingerliving @marvelpotter @mommyyyyyyyyyyyyyy @mis-lil-red@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @e-dollly @emptyporsche
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mclarengf · 2 months
Text
pas besoin d'un faux sourire
learning to parent with dad!logan sargeant
[1.0k]
note: haha enjoy more angst. dw this one’s not an ambiguous ending it def gets fluffy. dad!logan save me fr 
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lottie’s crying.
she doesn’t cry very often, which only adds to your concern.
you’d run into the living room when you heard lottie’s soft cry of, “mummy…” and now you’re sat on the couch with her, whispering consolations into her hair. 
as if on cue, the front door opens and logan steps in, finally home after a few days of doing sim work in the uk. after taking in the situation, he parks his suitcase in front of the shoe rack and rushes to your side, placing a hand on your shoulder in support. what a welcome, he must be thinking.
“hey, sweetheart, daddy’s home. daddy’s here,” he says to your daughter softly, “what’s wrong, my lottie?” 
you crouch down and hold out your hand for lottie. you’re a bit surprised she can see through her tears when she takes it, but wrap her in a big hug regardless.
“what’s upset you, baby?”
she just buries her head in the crook of your neck and cries harder. 
you can’t see anything broken or spilt around you, and lottie doesn’t look hurt. you gesture vaguely at logan to take her temperature because you can’t reach her face without shifting and risking her discomfort. he side steps a toy strewn on the floor and presses the back of his hand to her forehead. he comes back into your field of view and shakes his head.
you’ve never felt more inadequate than you do right now. you have no idea why lottie’s so upset, and logan, bless him, isn’t exactly prepared to help in this situation. he’s just gotten back and probably drove the thirty minutes from nice côte d’azur expecting… not this.
“logan,” he looks up, much resembling a deer in headlights, “could you get us a wet flannel please?” 
you’re giving him an out to leave the room and get into the right headspace to do some ‘proper parenting’, he realises. he ducks out, but not before placing a hand over his heart and mouthing a thank you as he goes. 
he’s back in a couple of minutes, having also taken the opportunity to change out of his plane clothes, and joins his girls on the carpet.
“come here, lottie-lou,” you allow her dad to hold onto her, and you shuffle closer to him as he washes her face with the cloth, wiping her tears away as he does so. 
“can you tell daddy what’s wrong?” you ask, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 
she shakes her head.
“that’s okay, baby,” logan chimes in, “we can just sit here for a bit, yeah?”
you rest your head down on his shoulder as you sit in silence, save lottie’s quiet sobs. it’s never been exceptionally easy being parents, nevertheless at your relatively young age. lottie’s usually such a gem, so the moments like this are hard to get through, for all of you. 
she’s getting quieter as the two of you comfort her, but it doesn’t seem like there’ll be an end to the tears just yet. logan kisses your cheek; he doesn’t know quite what to do either, so you’ll just have to figure it out together.
another few minutes pass by, then you hear her take in a big breath and mumble, “i miss my home.”
ah, of course. you’d all moved from london to monaco about a month ago, on account of location convenience for logan’s job, and the educational opportunities for lottie. the tax benefits weren’t exactly a complaint either. 
lottie hadn’t had any qualms about the move so far, so you’d both figured she was adjusting alright. she’d even been excited, but of course, the realisation that this wasn’t like a race weekend or a holiday where she would be sure to return to your humble london flat, was bound to kick in eventually.
little by little as she calms down, lottie tells you about how even though she knows a little bit of french from you, it’s not enough to really talk with the other kids, and that the teachers are nice but she doesn’t want to cause a fuss and keep bothering them every day. 
“i’m sorry,” she whispers.
you shake your head and open your mouth to speak, but logan beats you to it.
“you don’t have to be sorry, baby. it’s okay if you feel bad sometimes.” 
you press a kiss to her hands and add, “you just have big emotions, my love. just like me.” 
she’s stopped crying now, and even smiles a bit when you bring up your similarity. 
“if you want, lottie love, we can find you a tutor here who can help with your french, and you and i can always practise at home.”  
she nods at your proposition, then wrinkles her nose and asks, “what about daddy?” 
lottie, selfless as ever, is already thinking about how to include logan. you want to laugh just thinking about logan learning french and even more so, him speaking french with his american accent.
“we’ll rope him into learning with us too,” you grin at logan, “now come on, let’s give daddy a big hug, 'cause we’ve missed him very much while he’s been working.” 
logan smiles at his little family and wraps his arms around both of you, happy that peace has been restored. he takes lottie’s face in his hands and covers her in kisses, making her giggle. 
“you wanna help me unpack now, lottie-lou?”
she jumps up and runs toward logan’s suitcase at her dad’s suggestion, and starts wheeling it towards your bedroom. you and logan, still sat on the floor, watch her go. you give him a kiss. 
“welcome home, handsome. sorry that’s what you came in to.” 
he looks down at you and breathes out a laugh. instead of saying anything, he just holds his hand out for a high-five, which you humor. he lets go of you to push himself up, and helps you up after.  
before he follows after your daughter, he slings an arm over your shoulder and states, “we’re such awesome parents.”
it’s your turn to laugh now, and you reward him with a couple of quick pecks on his lips. you push him to go to lottie before she starts calling for him, and give him a cheeky pat to the bum as he stumbles forward. 
“je t’aime, baby.”
okay; now that that’s sorted, what to have for dinner?
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a-hobit · 5 months
Text
There are not nearly enough “Izuku midoriya in denial” fics for me.
Katsuki has accepted and is trying to confess but Izuku won’t let him or constantly forces himself to only see what Katsuki says in a platonic way. Eventually Izuku is stressed and cornered. Katsuki tries confessing but Izuku childishly slams his palms over his ears — eyes squeezed shut. Katsuki is devastated and feels like Izuku must be burdened by his feelings so he just…stops trying to talk and his own eyes go cloudy while he fights back tears. Izuku can’t hear or see but somehow feels the air change around him.
He opens his eyes. He sees the person he cares most about with a hand clutched over his breaking heart and the other trying to wipe away the tears falling down his face — twisted into an expression so broken it’s something that Izuku can no longer ignore.
His own hands drop from his face to settle on quivering shoulders while he panics internally. He can feel blackwhip on the edges of his fingertips in a painful bid to be free of his iron will grasp on his own heart. It’s unceremoniously shoved back into that tight spot between his ribs that seems to ache with every uncontrolled hitch or sob in Katsuki’s breath while he tries desperately to understand what’s happened and how he can fix it unscathed.
Asking what’s wrong doesn’t seem to help and Katsuki only shakes harder and diggs deeper into his chest. His hands grow tight on the taller boys shoulders as Katsuki is able to scrape out the barest hint of his overwhelming feelings.
“Why won’t you let me? Are you angry with me now — disgusted? You let round face confess and gave her every bit of the kindness and compassion I know you have while rejecting her…don’t I deserve that too? The be able to speak and be spoken to? To love freely and hear an honest answer?”
“Will you not even look me in the eye so I can tell you the truth? That I love you?”
The thin thread of steel control that Izuku has been grasping to from that very first time he allowed himself to see, and love, and care, fully for the man in front of him snaps. Controlling that feeling has been the only way to keep blackwhip strangled and weak but the acknowledgment is paramount to the heavy door put on it with lock and key slamming open without mercy or thought.
Izuku suddenly let’s go of his companions shoulders to grasp desperately at his thin shirt — now covered in a foreboding inky blackness that seems intent on grasping something. Katsuki only has a moment of warning before he’s violently tugged straight to Izuku — their torsos knocking the air out of both of them in a rush. They’re both covered in strings of agitated looking tendrils that seem to tighten around them with every breath or unapproved move away from the other.
Izuku can feel the humiliation creep up his throat while his nose knocks into another. All he can see is twin red eyes that read to him as shocked. The blood finally reaches his face as he thrashes against the tight renforced hold that black whip — his own damn quirk!— has got them in. Quickly he ducks his head down and pulls at their restraint. He’s embarrassed and can’t choke out an apology fast enough.
“No!! I’m so sorry! I - I can’t make it stop — I don’t want you to hate me and I can’t even get control of my own quirk! God Kacchan please — !”
The tears are cold on his burning cheeks but there’s a soft hand to delicately wipe them away and gently pull Izuku’s face back into view. The other rests sweetly on his chest while Katsuki wears a unreadable look on his face. Their noses are close again and they can feel the breath the both let out unevenly.
Izuku’s eyes are wide and searching while Katsuki slides his hands over Izuku’s shoulders to clasp together around his neck. Katsuki’s head drops down in a thud against his collar bone while his own hands find themselves desperately grasping at his oldest friend’s school uniform. Not really caring about the creases he’s making his eyes squeeze out another tear or two before his head hits Katsuki’s collarbone in a mirror image.
They both take a moment to steady their breathing and hold each other like they’ve never been able to before.
Once they’ve both had their fill their heads pull up so they can meet eyes once more. Izuku feels a shutter come up his back as he croaks out a few words heavy with months of held back feeling.
“…you love me?”
Katsuki eyelids flutter and then pin Izuku with a fierce and determined expression.
“Yes. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you before you run away or make some lame excuse or fucking — put your hands over your ears?! Like a little kid?!”
He huffs petulantly and ironically child like in his own way. Izuku’s finally able to whisper out—
“…why?”
His eyes shoot wide as they take over Izuku’s face. He’s so lost for words he almost doesn’t hear the next confession.
“You — you don’t know me at all. You don’t know how selfish I am Kacchan…you haven’t seen me without you. I…I wanted Shigaraki dead when I saw what happened…it’s too much — and black whip! Just now didn’t even listen to me at all and just — took what I wanted! I don’t want you to be chained to someone so…so not worth your time Kacchan. You don’t deserve to be chained to my mistakes…my selfishness for you.”
“You don’t need such a burden to drag you down.”
Katsuki could only stare in disbelief that someone so forgiving, so loving, so kind could treat themselves so horrifically — could talk like that about themselves. It made his stomach turn watching Izuku fold more into himself with every nasty declaration of his own worthlessness. It fills him with so much anger he can’t help the venom in his voice when he replies.
“Who the hell do you think you are telling me what I can or can’t love?! It’s not your decision to make whether or not you’re a burden to me. As if I couldn’t handle you!”
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reticent-writer · 10 months
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the hashiras + the trio (tanjiro, inosuke, and zenitsu) reaction to reader, a fellow hashira, getting turned into a demon against their will right in front of them…in the middle of a fight? (reader is crying, and saying, ‘no! i want to be a human. i don’t want to…no, no, no- i’m sorry. i’m sorry, i…was so weak. forgive me…’) and then they’re forced to fight reader, who was so, so friendly and patient with them while they were human…but now, they’re an incredibly strong swordfighting demon, fighting alongside the upper moon demon who turned them. (do they k!ll reader, knock them out and tie them up… or will they turn it into another nezuko situation?…)
(The hashira are seperate but the trio will be together)
Demon slayer masterlist
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✿✼:*゚:.。..。.:*・゚゚・**・゚゚・*:.。..。.:*゚:*:✼✿  
Rengoku
He didn't even have to do anything you just passed out
Turns out the rapid change was too much for you body so you were out like a light
When you woke up you were restrained in a windowless room with him sleeping at your bed side
Tengen
He knocked you out by accident while going for the kill
His sword was going for your neck so you dodged by ducking but unfortunately for you his knee was right there
Sanemi
Kills you
I don't think I'd have to explain this much
If Genya was there he'd be protecting you nd swearing to Sanemi that you could be like nezuko
Sanemi, of course, doesn't listen and push him away from you as he goes for the final blow
Obanai
Kills you
Even if you were in a situation like nezukos
It's nothing personal it's just that he doesn't think a demon is capable of control even after meeting nezuko
Muichirou
Before getting his memories back he would kill you but after he wouldn't
Giyuu
He hopes that your situation is like nezuko's
If it is he will tell kagaya about you but not the others and keeps you at his estate
If you aren't like nezuko that would be his 13th reason he would k
Mitsuri
She takes her job as a hashira very seriously
Just the thought of killing you breaks her heart but she doesn't want to out anyone in danger by keeping you alive
She feels like she has to kill you so she does
Shinobu
She cant
Like she literally even if she wanted to
The best she could do was knock you out
The poison wasn't strong enough to kill you, only weaken you
She'll devote herself to finding a cure just like tanjiro did
---------------Trio---------------
What started off as a regular ranked mission turned into a hashira rank as upper moon 3, Akaza, arrived.
A fight started with you all having a major advantage and not giving him a chance to adjust to the constant barade of attacks.
"4 against 1, that's hardly fair. Let's even the playing field, shall we?" Akaza said as he created some distance between all of you. His eyes wondered over each one of you like a predator deciding which to eat first.
His gaze landed on you and before you could react he plunged 2 fingers into you head, allowing his blood to flow into you.
Inosuke acted first, running towards you both swords swinging at Akaza. Tanjiro was next pulling you away from the upper moon as your veins started to show from your skin.
Tanjiro got you a good distance away and laid you on your back, Zenitsu was bouncing all around you in worry. Your eyes we're rolling to the back of your head.
"I- I'm so- rry- I was too.... Too weak" You sobbed as you chocked on your own blood.
Your vision became clouded.
In that moment you lost all control.
Your nails dug into tanjiro's arm as your speech turned inaudible, you tried to pull him toward you in an attempt to bite him.
Zenitsu wrapped his arms around your middle and ripped you away from him.
"CONTROL YOURSELF Y/N" he screeched, tears free falling from his eyes.
Your limbs struck him wildly.
Tanjiro tried to hold your arms.
Inosuke distracted himself with the Akaza. He didn't want what happened to rengoku to happen to you.
"You can fight it y/n, I know you can. Your one of the strongest people I know. PLEASE."
They struggled for hours to get you to calm down.
Akaza left.
Inosuke was ready to beat you into submission if you didn't control yourself.
One punch did the tick and something inside you snapped and everything became clear.
However your body couldn't keep up and so you fell unconscious.
✿✼:*゚:.。..。.:*・゚゚・**・゚゚・*:.。..。.:*゚:*:✼✿  
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