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woewriting · 5 months

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SINBOUND (G!P) tara carpenter x reader

tags. mdni, +18 only! no ghostface au, reader has a dick but no pronous were used, cheating, adultery, voyeurism, semi public sex, shower sex, breeding, exhibitionism and if you squint really hard, there's a bit of size kink... tara's a sinner and so are you. word count. 5358 a/n. i cant believe i finally finished this one, a huge thanks to @alkivm and @wesstars for helping me out, this one is for you two. | masterlist.

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You never really thought of Tara as more than just a good friend, you really didn’t, but the moment you witnessed her being ruined by her boyfriend’s dick, mascara running down her cheeks, lipstick smudged all around her plump lips, and the way she smiled at you with half open lids, your mind became clouded with Tara.

Her moans, so soft and whiny.

Her hands grabbing her boyfriend’s arms, short nails digging into the muscle and tracing red marks on the tanned skin.

Her smile, so different from the ones she always greets you with when you meet for breakfast before classes. This one was small, almost like a smirk that turned into perfectly ‘o’ shaped when he bit her neck, covering her petite body with his big one.

You couldn't move, petrified with the scene rolling in front of your eyes. You watched as her nails scratched the skin of his back, pulling him impossibly closer, holding him in place so he wouldn’t see you standing there, blatantly watching them fuck. The sounds she was making wouldn’t leave your mind, the image of Tara being fucked raw while staring at you engraved in every single muscle memory of your brain.

And it did.

You stood there for what it felt like hours, watching with focused eyes the heart-giving performance Tara was putting on for you until she came, teeth sinking in the others’ shoulder to suffocate the scream that would tear her throat in pieces.

That’s when you left, your face burning red and an uncomfortable ache between your legs that you wished would disappear, twitching inside your boxers and begging for release.

With a quick wave of your hand towards your friend’s group, you left the frat house, jumping over drunken bodies sprawled in the front yard and walking back to your dorm only a few blocks away. You could still hear the loud electronic music and you smelled like alcohol mixed with different perfumes from every person that hugged you during the night.

Kicking your shoes before stepping inside — following your roommate’s number one rule, you leaned against the closed door, the image of Tara burned into your brain like a tattoo, the soft sounds she was making playing in your head like a broken record that was slowly driving you crazy, a tight knot in your stomach that made your heart beat faster.

Your hand automatically covering the volume in your pants, squeezing your length as you tried to easy down. Deep down, you wanted to open up your pants and pull your cock out, watching the way it twitched with the vivid image of Tara on her knees, sucking you off; or with her legs wrapped around your waist as you fucked her against the door frame, fast and rude, like Chad was doing it. But you couldn’t, you felt dirty already for not turning around and drinking every single solo cup, with a colorful, sparkly drink and dubious alcohol, offered to you by Mindy or Amber to erase what you had witnessed, but no, you froze in place.

With one last hard squeeze, you took a deep breath, deciding to take a cold shower to force yourself to calm down, even if the knot in your stomach was painful, like a little red devil on your shoulder, whispering lustful things into your ear like it’s the most beautiful melody that was hard to ignore. For a split of seconds, you almost listened to him, unbuttoning your pants and pulling the zipper down, removing enough pressure of you, but your phone ranged in your back pocket.

Shaking your head, you took the hardest path, the one that led you to the bathroom. Picking up your phone, Sam’s name blinking on the screen with a picture of you and her together, you gulped, declining the call and deciding to text her instead with the excuse of a migraine that was making you dizzy.

As the water hit your head and your shoulder, your muscles tensed up and you stop breathing, every single body hair standing on end with goosebumps, your member still hard against your belly. You sighed, closing your eyes to focus on the cold water that ran over your body so you could sleep and forget whatever the hell this day was.

It didn’t work, your eye bags the next morning was reason enough for your roommate to ask what happened that kept you up all night.

—

To be honest, you didn’t want to be here, sitting in your usual table waiting for them to show up, ignoring a completely enthusiastic Amber. You wanted to be under your blankets, with doors locked, phone on airplane mode and away and safe from the girl that took over your thoughts over the weekend. It’s been two days since the little “incident” at the party, you ignored every single message in the group chat claiming you “needed to study for finals”, which wasn’t a full lie but you really did not need to spend your entire weekend locked in your dorm.

“Yo, dumbass,” you blinked when a blurry hand stepped in your vision, followed by Amber’s furred eyebrows. “you’ve been weird since Friday, what’s wrong with you?”

Before you could answer, the little bell above the door rang, your eyes automatically linking with the brown ones you saw roll to the back of her head when she came all over her boyfriend. Tara was under Chad’s arm, smiling at something the taller boy said as they walked into the small cafe, coming in your direction.

You wanted to flee, leaving all your belongings back and rush to classes, but the table in front of you and the two girls, Amber and Sam, sitting on each side of you, made that wish a little bit impossible to come true, and if you tried, it would draw too much attention to yourself and that was the least thing you wanted at the moment.

You’d have to endure the torture you had set inside your own brain.

Tara was a really good actress, you thought to yourself, as the minutes went by, she, somehow, manage to keep the same image as always, the perfect girlfriend/sister/friend that is constantly smiling and pays attention to everyone and everything that surrounded her.

While you, on the other side, kept your eyes focused on the drawing that swam in your coffee mug until it slowly melted away, not paying much attention to the conversation. You made a disgusted face when you realized it turned cold under your fingertips.

“Want me to get you a new one?”

“Uh?”

Tara smiled, oh so sweet as always, placing her hand on top of yours, her thumb caressing the skin, ready to take your mug and order a new one for you. “I asked if you want me to order you a new coffee? I know you don’t like cold coffee in the morning.”

“No, uh…” You avoided her soft eyes, removing your hand and starting to pack your things to leave. “Actually, I have to go to, it’s uh… I have to take some notes before class. Can you move a little, Amber? Thank you.”

Without looking at them and feeling your heartbeat on your throat, stumbling a few times on a confused Freeman as you passed in front of her, you left your group of friends behind, ignoring the way Sam was saying your name as you walked out of the small cafe.

Once your feet hit the soft grass in front of the university, you exhaled the air that was stuck inside your lungs all the way here. Leaning forward, you took a deep breath, feeling the burning spread through your veins like poison.

“Are you okay?” A familiar voice came behind you. Sam’s hand on the lower of your back.

“Yeah, I am,” You turned to her. “I just have too much on my head right now.”

The older Carpenter analyzed you, her dark eyes roaming around your features like she always did, looking for any sign of lie.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, clenching your hands around the strap of the bag over your shoulder. “I’ll feel better after the finals, don’t worry, Sammy.”

The nickname earned you a soft smile, followed by a protective arm wrapped around your shoulders, leading you to the main building where your first class took place. Sam made sure to walk with you until you were both standing in front of the opened door, the classroom still empty when you two arrived.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

You nodded; eyes focused on her hands holding yours. You wanted to tell everything you saw at the party, but how would you say you saw her little sister, and your best friend, getting fucked and were starting to question how you felt about your friendship with Tara? That you feel an ache in between your legs every time you share the same space with her? It would be like throwing a bucket of cold water on her, and then the bucket itself… instead, you just smiled.

After Sam gave you a forehead kiss, she left you, walking to the other side of the campus for classes; you watched her from afar through the big window next to where you usual sat since first day, a high chair, not too far from the teacher but away enough from the troublemakers that enjoyed chatting during lessons, disturbing those who were interested in actually learning.

Through the same big window, your eyes recognized a pair that was getting near the building’s entrance. You gulped, secretly watching them kiss, your cheeks gaining a pinkish tone and a burning feeling in the pit of your stomach. The way Chad had his hands possessively on her thin waist, pulling her impossibly closer and keeping her in place, while Tara had her arms wrapped around his head, tiptoeing to reach his lips.

It was a daily thing that always got your attention even though you never really cared about the affection between them, but this time, you felt dirty, your pupils dilating to absorb every single trace of light, almost as if you were taking a picture of it, the way the wind was subtly blowing her skirt up. You pressed your legs together, the small pain seeming enough to calm down your throbbing cock. Maybe it was a terrible idea to wear sweatpants as it was easy to see the volume you were desperately trying to hide since you saw Tara entering the coffee shop in such short skirt.

When they broke the kiss, the small girl waved her boyfriend goodbye, turning on her heels to enter the same building you were.

At least we don’t have classes together today… — you thought to yourself once again, sighing in relief as you slid down on your chair and plugged your earphones in, waiting for the teacher to come in.

The classes were full of revisions for the finals, your knuckles hurting from taking notes as fast as the teacher was talking, writing down what you considered important — right now, everything. It had a good side though; Tara had left your thoughts for you to focus on what really mattered at the moment.

After an entire morning of non-stop writing, you were ready to pack everything and clear your mind at the gym near the campus, working off all the bothered you felt the past 3 days.

The space was empty, considering that it was an hour that usually was packed with students, the finals probably taking all the time. Like them, you should also be studying, but you figured it was time to let something else burn your muscles other than notes badly written on your notebook. Walking past a few faces you were familiar with, you greeted them with a smile and a small head motion, the wireless earphone blasting some random Taylor Swift song inside your head.

Just like the training area, the lock room was empty, a girl passed by you when you entered and left you alone in silence, the energetic music that played on the gym’s speakers taking over once you removed your earphones, holding them for a few seconds until you heard a robotic voice saying “power off”. Placing them inside the pocket of your backpack, you tossed the object on the top shelf of your paid lock, removing the warm jacket that hugged your body and folded it, placing it inside. Kicking your shoes off, you managed to remove your socks without falling before storing it too, the cement cold under your bare feet.

“Are you going to ignore me until when? Do I gotta put on another show for you so you can pay attention to me?” A small Tara appeared behind you, resting her chin on your right shoulder, feeling your chest rise and fall with the deep breath you took. You closed the metal door slowly.

“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend to give you attention?”

She rolled her eyes, sneaky hands climbing on your back and coming back down to rest on your waist, sending shivers down your spine. The tip of her fingers playing with the hem of your pants. “Because I want your pretty eyes on me, not his.”

Feeling a burn escalating from your chest all the way up to your neck, you turned on your heels, now facing a doe-eyed Tara.

How could you still see her so adorably after what you witnessed?

“What do you want, Tara?” You asked with a sighed, crossing your arms in an attempt to keep her away from you — even if it was millimeters.

“I want you.”

“Be for real.”

“I am.”

You analyzed her expressions. Dark brown eyes not leaving yours for even a second, those adorable freckles spread across her small nose bridge and cheeks, lower lip trapped between her teeth. She wasn’t lying, Tara couldn’t keep eye contact when she was lying.

Taking a step back and leaning against the locker behind you, you watched as she took a step closer and uncrossed your arms; you didn’t even try to stop her.

Ghostly fingers tracing your forearm, up to your biceps, resting on your neck, her thumb softly caressing your jawline.

“Tara… don’t.” You tried to sound firm, but as she was closing the gap between you two, your voice lowered a few octaves, betraying you.

“Why not?” It was all she whispered before you felt her lips softly pressing against your own, giving you a chance to push her away and go back to training, if that was what you wished.

You didn’t. Again, your body betrayed you, and so did your thoughts, the images from Friday night clouding up your mind.

The arms that were once crossed to keep her away were now enlacing her waist, pulling her against your own body, desperately trying to feel her warmth.

It was a soft press of lips, but it lasted long enough for you both to sigh, holding onto each other as if something would pull you apart.

“Did I ever tell you you’re so fucking hot in those sweatpants? God! I love when you wear those, I can see you perfectly.” She exhaled against your lips, shaking breath, hands grabbing on your biceps, nails digging the skin before covering your semi-hard member, grabbing the length over the thick cotton fabric.

You had no time to reply, her tongue licking yours so deliciously that was hard to even think of speaking something and break that moment, so you did like Tara, grabbing every muscle you could get your hands on, dartling from her lower back, down to her ass, under her skirt, pulling her up, thighs tightly wrapped around your waist as you reversed positions, aggressively pressing her against the metal locker, a painful moan escaping her lips that sounded like music to your ears.

Unable to keep your mouth away from hers, you pressed your lips again. Aggressively, needy, desperate, like you’ve been longing this for too long, and now, she was giving you the most delicious kiss you’ve ever had. Tara was delicious all over, from her honey voice, to her minty breath, intoxicating your senses with how sweet her perfume was, matching perfectly with the fake persona she wears in front of everyone. It was definitely going to stick to your shirt.

Her breath hitching, soft moans scaping from her lips whenever you moved your head to the other side, kiss fitting deliciously.

A loud laugh coming from the hallway that connected the gym’s open space and the lock room, you were quick to walk towards the shower area, entering the last stall and closing the door behind you with a violent swing, easily opening the water register to mask the sounds Tara was making.

When the icy water hit your body, a moment of guilty took over your senses and you pulled back, breaking the kiss.

“Why did you stop?” Carpenter whined, opening her eyes.

“We can’t do this, Tar.”

“But you know you want this. You know that. Tell me that you don’t. Tell me you didn’t enjoy watching the way Chad was fucking me, or the way he kisses me before going to class.” Your eyes widened, awkwardly shifting your weight from one foot to another. “What? You think I don’t know you watch me through the window? Why do you think I always kiss him in that same spot?”

“I…”

“You’re so cute… all flustered and embarrassed.”

The tip of her index finger traced your jawline all the way down your neck, slightly peeking through the loosen white shirt that was slowly becoming transparent as the water hit your back, revealing the strap of your bra. She smiled; bottom lip trapped in between her teeth as she pressed herself down on the volume under her, a moan trapped in your throat at the sudden contact.

“For someone that doesn’t want this, your dick shows the opposite.” Tara moved her hips on you, the pressure of your clothed member on her clit getting her to drip on the fabric of your pants. “You’re such a liar.”

“You’re full of bullshit, did you know that?” You moved your hips up, earning a surprised moan.

The girls in the room were loud, talking and laughing about something you didn’t care about, all you wanted to hear was your best friend’s moans, loving the way she whispers your name as her hips continued to roll against you, eyes closed and a small smirk tugging on the corner of her lips.

“And you’re dying to fuck me.”

It was your turn to let out a huff, fingers squeezing the soft flesh of her bare thighs, the short skirt brushing against your hands.

“How long have you been planning this, huh?”

In a teasy tone, you close the gap between her neck and your lips, languid kisses being placed all over, goosebumps forming on the soft skin. You smiled, loving the way she squeezed her legs around your waist.

“Since I saw you kissing that blondie at the party.” She easily confessed; eyes closing to focus on the ghostly contact of your lips on her neck. “The way your hands were on her waist, your leg in between hers, the way she was bouncing on your thigh,” Tara chocked on her breath when you bit her pulse point, heartbeat fast on the tip of your tongue. “your lips on her neck, leaving bruises everywhere… It was so fucking hot I couldn’t take it anymore, so I dragged Chad upstairs and made him fuck me while I was thinking of you.” It was her turn to smile when she felt you twitch under her. “I bet you can go deeper than he can, that you can fuck me so good, ruin me… can you do that for me?”

You smiled, swiftly pulling down the hem of your sweatpants enough for your dick to pop out, hitting your belly, a relieved sigh leaving your parted lips. You brought Tara against you again, a low moan escaping her lips as her clit pressed on your length, the damp fabric of her underwear creating a pleasant friction.

“You’re sure you want this?” You asked, once again the guilt threatening to fill your thoughts, but smaller, a lot smaller than the first time, and a lot easier to make it go away; one look from Tara’s dark-brown eyes and it was gone.

Pulling her drenched panties to the side, your fingers found her warmth, loving the way she clutched around them, rubbing it up and down her slit before positioning the tip of your cock in her entrance, forcing your way in, her hips buckling it up as you stretched her out.

“Fuck, you’re so thick,” Tara breathed out, nails digging in the back of your neck as you slowly pushed yourself inside her, the velvety walls clutching around you.

Trying to ease the moment, you brought your mouth down her neck, licking all the way up to her jawline, softly biting the spot once you were all inside. Her head tilted back against the sweaty tile as water fell around the both of you, mostly hitting your back as your body protect hers from the cold temperature.

“Look at me,” you demanded, trying to keep yourself calm, allowing her to adjust first. “Tara, look at me. I want your eyes on me.”

Tara was tight around you, her warmth embracing you as deliciously as her legs wrapped your waist or as her fingers intertwined in your hair.

It took her a minute to open her eyes, pupils completely dilated as she leaned in, licking your lips with a mischievous smile before taking your bottom lip in a hurtful bite, easing the pain with the tip of her tongue.

“What are you waiting for? Just fuck me already.” She breathed out, purposefully clenching around you.

You huffed, amused by this version of Tara you never knew was hidden behind sweet smiles and kind personality; she was a slut. And you were loving every second of this, the way the back of her converses were pressed on your thighs, keeping you impossibly closer to her. Or the way she looked at you with dark, half-opened eyes, completely focused on your features.

You pulled back slowly, her mouth hanging open and eyes threatening to close, but you stopped when loud and messy conversation filled the lock room.

Tara pulled you closer by instinct, causing you to enter her in a fast move, your hand fast to cover her mouth, a low shhh falling from your lips when a struggled moan scaped hers, her throat vibrating, eyes rolling to the back of her head.

The view you had was sinful, your hand covering Tara’s mouth, some drops of water sprawling on her face, the mascara starting to run down her cheeks as the heat got too much, not even the coldest temperature couldn’t cool down the two of you, and neither the girls that were chitchatting outside the closed stall.

You started to move, slowly and careful, testing her, your other hand firmly keeping her against the wall.

"Fuck, you're clenching so hard around me." You breathed out with hoarse voice.

Tara covered your hand with hers, caressing gently before pulling it away, lips wrapping around your thumb in, your mind wondering how it would feel to have her mouth wrapped around your cock, sucking you off with the same eager she was sucking on your thumb.

“I can feel you throbbing inside me,” she whispered, slowly bouncing her body up, using your broad shoulders as support. “it’s so good. Now, fuck me.”

You huffed, the doe, adorable, innocent eyes staring at you was a perfect contrast to the situation you found yourself at, buried deep inside her, controlling every single nerve inside your body to wait instead of fucking her raw, but the request made you smile, hand wrapping around her throat in a slight squeeze as you moved your hip down, leaving only the tip inside before forcing your way in. Tara’s lips fell apart in a silent moan, short nails digging the flesh on your wrist, an overwhelming sensation spreading all over your body to be fully inside her again.

If Tara knew you’d feel this good inside her, she would’ve done it a lot sooner.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, mouth open trying to catch a breath as she felt every single centimeter of your dick move inside her, stretching her out in a delicious way, goosebumps all over her body every time she felt the blood running through your veins, pulsating inside her.

You stopped, taking a small step to the side, getting away from the door as you heard steps coming closer. The door loudly closing next to where you were.

“Be a good girl and keep your eyes on me, would you?”

“I’m starting to think you love having my eyes on you.” She teased back, brown eyes staring at you the same second.

“I do, I want to see them when you fall apart with me inside you.” She gulped, the simple words affecting her more than she would admit. You leaned closer, kissing her jawline, waiting for the person on the stall next to you to turn the water on. “Is this what you had in mind? When you picture me with that other girl?”

Tara wasn’t the jealous type, but now that she actually had you inside, she did feel a twinge of it inside her chest.

“No,” black painted nails grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at her. “this is what I pictured when I was with Chad, with him deep inside me… unlike you, he’d be ruining me right now.”

Your tongued slid on your bottom lip, the teasing failing to cause something in you.

“Want me to fuck you, Tara? Want everyone around us hearing how good I am making you feel, instead of your perfect boyfriend?”

“At least he wouldn’t be afraid to break me.”

You tilted your head slightly to the side, hearing more water running behind your back. Taking a strong grip on her waist, you slid inside in one swift move, covering her lips with yours. Once you were all inside her, it was hard to pull out, it was warm and soft, fitting just right.

Tara moaned against your lips, feeling every inch being pulled out only to slowly go in the next second, a steady pace that felt complete with the delicious taste of your tongue on hers. After a few more testing thrusts, you began to speed up your pace, filling her to the brim and making her toes curl, head falling back against the wall, not being able to hold back as your body was begging for release.

Removing her hands from your neck, her finger gripped the top of the wall behind her, pulling her weight up as much as she could, allowing you to wrap your arms under her knees, pushing her body against the tile.

This new position made you go deeper, hitting every sensitive spot inside her, teeth chewing on her lip bottom violently enough to almost draw blood, afraid that if she stopped doing that, everyone would hear how desperate she was for you and the running water wasn’t loud enough to cover it.

You wouldn’t last longer, not with how tight Tara was clenching around you and the way she had her eyes locked to your, pupils fully blown, darkening the doe eyes. You leaned closer, sucking the plump lip once you saw a drop of blood nearly falling to the floor, soothing the bruised skin with your tongue.

In a wrong move, your cock slipped out, standing proudly between the two bodies. Tara whined; eyes half-open at the feeling of being empty. She shook her head in a silent request. You smiled, caressing her cheeks. One hand of hers came down to meet you, scratching the nape of your neck, a clear sign that was close.

“What is it, love? Need something?”

Teasingly, you held your shaft, rubbing it along her sticky slit, teasing her aching hole a few times. The small girl was desperate, the knot in the pit of her stomach turning into tears, running down her face along with fainted black mascara.

“Please, please, please, I need you inside now, I’m so close…” She cried out, trying to pull you closer.

“Look at you, so pathetic, all you can do is beg. Aren’t you ashamed to be such a slut, Tara?” Your knuckle brushed the hair off of her face, allowing you to admire the red color that filled cheeks, stained by the ruined mascara.

She nodded to your question, unable to form a single sentence as you changed positions before sliding inside her once again, keeping a slow pace, allowing her to adjust, the velvety walls welcoming you tightly. Your grip on her waist was bruising the soft skin, no longer giving a single thought about the marks you shouldn’t left on her body, you wanted her to look at them when Chad fucks her and think of you, on how good it felt to have you buried deep inside her.

With your fingers still glued to her hip bones, you fastened your pace, the wet sounds coming from your bodies and her whiny moans barely being muffled by the running water, deep down you wanted everyone to hear the way she was saying your name like a sacred mantra. It was so fucking sexy the way her nose scrunched when you hit the sweet spot inside her or the way the tip of her tongue licked on her lips, throat dry from all the deep breaths she took.

Your name falling from her lips, getting you to look at her, “I want… fuck,” she closed her eyes, holding back as long as she could, prolonging this moment. “I want you to come deep inside me. Can you do that for me?”

You couldn’t see it, but with her request, you were sure your pupils were blown out, because the smile she let out watching your expression change, was reason enough for you to fuck the life out of her. Your nails sank in the flesh of her ass, forcefully moving her body up and down your throbbing cock, the knot in the pit of your stomach getting as tighter as Tara’s walls around you.

She was close, you both were, her hands in the back of your head bringing your mouth to her neck, peppering soft kisses on the wet skin, the faint smell of her perfume filling your lungs, her moans whispered straight to your ears like the most addictive song you heard before.

When she came, her teeth sunk on your shoulder with a hard bite, nails digging the nape of your neck. You followed her, coming deep inside like she asked you to. Your legs trembled, hands gripping the top of the wall to maintain balance while the other held her waist, the small body violently twitching against yours.

Opening your eyes, little stars shone in front of you. You took deep breaths, Tara holding onto you like her life depended on it — at this point, it did. She had 0 strength to stand on her own.

When she finally let go of your shoulder, a satisfied hummed left her lips followed by a smirk-like smile, hands now delicately caressing the sides of your neck and jawline, fingers removing a few strains of wet hair from your face.

“It feels so good,” she whispered, movies her hips in a perfect circle. You chocked on your breath. “you’re all inside me and it’s so good.”

“Is this how you fantasized?”

“It’s far better.” She laughed, weakly. “You’re much better than...”

You stopped her from finishing the sentence, kissing her with ease and care, “Can you take another one for me?” Tara gave you a sly smile, the heels of her converses pulling you closer. “That’s my good girl.”

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your-friendly-sociopath · 3 months

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I've been thinking recently about a story I made a while back about yandere alastor while he was alive, and apparently ppl liked it so I've decided to make a part two of that, but it's shortly after both alastor and his darling (reader obv) are dead

Also bc alastor is hot and I need more

Part one here

His Darling Doe, Pt 2

After Alastor had "saved" you in the alleyway, he never let you leave the cabin

For the rest of your (admittedly short) life, he had forced you into the role of the meek and helpless housewife

It wasn't so bad, he was a gentleman and always made sure you had everything you could want

Except your freedom of course

The night alastor died you thought you were finally free

But nope

Turns out that when the cops found out he was the killer, they thought you were an accomplice and had you sentenced to death

One moment you were on an electric chair, the next you were falling from the sky

As you were falling you heard a loud screech, and could see the devastated look coming from a glowing creature above

It looked like an angel

The next thing you noticed was a glowing green chain dragging you down (bc the chain scene was so hrrrgh)

And the last thing you noticed was two small wings attached to your back, you watched as the once snowy white color became corrupted by black and green -the same shade of green as the chain- then you hit the ground and blacked out

Again you woke up, face smushed against the weirdly warm cement

Confused, you slowly pulled yourself into a sitting position, and looked around trying to make sense of your surroundings

Right as you finally pulled yourself to your feet (or hooves, since ur a deer demon cause I say so) you heard a very loud, very staticy, and very family voice

A voice you had come to both dread and love while alive

"Ah, there are my dear. I was starting to think that my spells hadn't worked!"

Your eyes widened in horror as you turned to face the man you had once loved, your now discolored wings subconsciously wrapping around you in an attempt to comfort you

"No... not you" you whispered

Alastor tilted his head in confusion

" Whatever do you mean by that, my darling doe? I'd have thought you would be absolutely ecstatic to see me!"

You scowled at him and took a step back, to which he responded by smiling wider and stepping forward

"Come now my dear, you can't really be upset still, everything I did was to keep you safe."

Your ears (you hadn't noticed you deer ears in your hair until they had just moved, surprising you) flattened in irritation as your wings flared out in anger

"You kept me locked up in that God forsaken cabin," you hissed "trapped there to be nothing more than a trophy for you."

Alastor's eyes narrowed, he had known that you didn't like being kept in the house, but he couldn't just let you out!

Anything could've happened to you, he was simply protecting you!

Alastor decided to close the distance between you two, and quickly strided over to you, pushing you against the wall he trapped you in a passionate kiss

Despite your anger, you couldn't help but melt into the kiss, having missed him despite being separated for just under a month

You two stayed like that for a few minutes, relishing in each other's presence

When you finally came back to your senses, you shoved him away and ran

Distantly, you heard a record scratch as alastor took a moment to realize what you just did

Then he snarled, his smile growing impossibly wide as he shifted into his full demon form

You rushed through crowds of demons, a few of them snarling at you and threatening you, others catcalling

Now, despite being in hell for only a few weeks, alastor had already set a reputation as demon not to fuck with

So as you rushed through the crowds with a creepy ass deer demon chasing you, many knew not to interfere

Alastor reached out a long clawed hand, just barely brushing your arm

Panicked, you glanced back and saw alastor, looking like a fucking monster

You shrieked in terror, and out of instinct, your wings opened up and launched you into the sky

You heard alastor let out an unearthly, furious scream

You let yourself hope, for a brief moment, that you had escaped

Then the same glowing chain appeared around your neck, a d yanked you back down to the ground

You crashed into the broad chest of alastor, still in his demon form, as he whispered in your ear

"A valiant effort, my darling, but you forget. You couldn't escape me while alive, so what makes you think you can escape me now.." he growled "..now that I'm so much stronger."

"You can't escape me.. you are mine~"

He chuckled lowly at your continued struggling, watching as you finally went limp in his hold when he yanked on your chain

"Come along now, pet, it's time we went home"

The hand not holding the chain snaked around your waist, bringing you flush against his body

Everything went dark for brief moment, before the both of you appeared in front of a cabin

Your cabin

The one that you now considered a prison

You ears flattened once again, this time in despair as tears started to flow

You weren't ever going to escape now

He was much to powerful for anyone to go against

Alastor buried his face in your soft hair, nhaling deeply before walking you up to the front door, slowly turning back to normal from his demon form

"Ah, welcome home, my doe~"

Hehehehehehe

Finished another

Hot deer daddy

#yandere alastor #yandere hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #yandere alastor x reader

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abibliophobiaa · 7 months

Text

right where you left me;

chapter one: ticket to anywhere

summary: steve harrington is unlucky when it comes to matters of the heart. for years he’s been in love with his best friend, but circumstances have made it impossible for him to make his feelings known. fate seems to have other plans, when you ask him to help you escape your wedding day, with nothing but his hand to hold and a car to drive off in. you suddenly find yourself headed back to hawkins, back to the place that feels so unfamiliar now — back to the place where you first fell in love.

warnings: 18+; smut in later chapters; alcohol mentions; class differences; financial insecurities; purposeful vignette-like/short scenes to cover a larger span of time in this mini-series (11k words).

steve harrington x f!reader || best friends to lovers, mutual pining, second chance romance with the town handyman who lives in a cabin in the woods. inspired by this edit from @somnambulic-thing.

masterlist | next chapter

——

October, 1990…

——

Everything is wrong.

It hits you, sitting there in front of the vanity mirror, voices swirling about the room full of your girl friends. Your gown, the colors of the bridesmaids dresses, the venue. It’s too lavish, too over the top. Not the small, intimate feel you imagined ever since you were a little girl, friends surrounding you, watching as you married the man of your dreams.

But then again, the groom isn’t who you imagined either. That’s the first of the many issues with this day that jump to your attention.

Clark is fair haired and light eyed. Handsome, in the way that you can tell he spends thousands of dollars on clothing to do so. More acquaintance than the man you always envisioned standing beside you on this day.

This same man, who you found only moments ago seemingly in a passionate argument with one of your bridesmaids. Both of them touching one another in a way that seemed too familiar, like they’d done this dance, had this same conversation at least once before. She begged for him to leave, to get away now, to back out of the marriage. Pleaded with him to consider love, instead of some business endeavor.

Had reached up and kissed him bruisingly, his hands fisted in her gown. The same wrinkled one that stares at you now as your fingers toy with your bouquet, her sad eyes plastered on your face.

You know you should feel something. Anger, betrayal, hurt, resentment — but instead you feel nothing at all. You’re not in love. Haven’t been. Now your mind only buzzes, someone calling your name bringing you to attention, head lifting slightly.

“Are you okay?” they ask, “can I get you anything?”

And it’s two words.

A name, really, that pops into your mind.

“Can you see if Steve Harrington is here yet?”

——

Steve’s not sure what to think when a bridesmaid he barely recognizes — likely because he’s only met them once or twice before — barrels toward him, an intensity in her eyes that has him worrying something has gone wrong.

Everything is wrong, though. Because he’s here, in this ridiculously huge wedding venue, standing in for those in Hawkins who couldn’t make the trip, about to watch as his best friend marries a man who isn’t Steve Harrington.

And as much as it pains him, loving you means doing anything to see you happy — even if it kills him in the end. It’s all he knows, all he has done for as long as you’ve been a friend to him, two wide-eyed eleven-year-olds sitting in some fancy ballroom as you watched your parents parade themselves around like the elite that they deemed themselves to be.

What he doesn’t expect, however, as he’s practically dragged into a room, is to find you standing there pacing back and forth, beautiful as ever and not at all happy for someone who is about to be married.

“Stacy, a moment?” you ask, lifting your head enough that he can see you fully.

You’re absolutely breathtaking, in a way that’s almost cruel, because after today you’ll officially be a wife. After today, he’ll have to accept that his feelings that are not at all platonic toward his best friend he still harbors all these years later can only ever just be that: feelings.

As the door shuts behind Stacy, you rush forward and slam into his chest, and he’s immediately there to wrap his arms around your waist. You’re a vision in a fluffy tulle skirt, the veil on your head brushing against his chin, and it’s then he feels the frantic flutter of your heart against his sternum. It’s then he can feel your fingers curl around the lapels of his suit — can see the flash of tears swimming in your eyes.

“I need to get out of here,” you whisper hoarsely.

Breathlessly.

“What do y —”

“Please…take me away from here. Anywhere, I don’t care. Please,” you beg, and though he has more questions than answers, he dips his head. Because again, he’ll do anything to make you happy.

Even if that includes helping you run from your own wedding.

With a long exhale, Steve steps back a bit, fingers carding through his hair. He moves to the door, head tossed over his shoulder to glance back your way.

“Give me a second,” he says, slipping from the room into the hallway.

There’s no one in the nearby vicinity, this room far enough away from the rest of the guests that escaping shouldn’t be a problem. His eyes catch on the glowing exit symbol in the distance, and he knows his car is a few blocks away, but it’s better than nothing and will have to do.

When he slips back into the room, you’re wiping your hands along your dress, clasping one around his as he extends a palm your way.

He can’t deny the ache in his chest as you take it, the electric jolt that courses through his body, but now isn’t the time. If you’re going to get out without anyone noticing, you’ll have to do so now — and quickly.

“Come on,” he urges, and you’re both off, rushing down the empty hallway unbeknownst to your waiting guests, the world bursting to life in color as the exit doors swing wide open.

——

“Remind me to never run in heels again,” you gasp out, hand tight in Steve’s as you dart through busy city streets, avoiding bodies along the way.

All around, people honk their cars, citizens whistle and congratulate you as you run on by. And you know it’s because you and Steve, for all intents and purposes, look as though you’ve just married. Him in his suit, and you in your poofy wedding gown, the edges now stained a murky soot color.

“And I want this stupid thing off my head right now.”

Steve pauses on the side street as you come to a halt, his chest bumping yours at the abruptness as your fingers reach up to unclasp your veil from your head. Balling it up in your hands, you toss it into the nearby garbage can. Pigeons scurry away in haste, a squirrel skittering away from its hard earned meal.

“How do I look?” you ask, hiking up the edges of your gown as someone nearly trips on it, making their way towards the crosswalk.

“Like a runaway bride.” He laughs, shaking his head. “My car is another block that way. Let’s go.”

He grips your hand again, and you know you really don’t have to hold it, but it brings you comfort all the same. The further you run away from the wedding venue, the more you realize what exactly you’ve done. You’ve run out on your intended husband, on friends, on your family who has spent the money to make it all happen — and everyone will have something to say about it. Word gets around quickly in your social circle.

But it’s a decision for yourself. The first in a long long time.

There’s something so liberating about it — about rushing after Steve as he loops you around other bodies, as he opens the passenger side door for you and helps push your frilly skirts inside, before dropping down into the driver’s seat and shoving his key in the ignition.

And as he turns the key, peeling away from the busy side street, and heads toward the nearest highway, you know it’s the right decision.

——

Neither of you speak for the first half hour driving. The roads are busy, traffic bumper-to-bumper in the city, Steve’s grip a white knuckled one around the steering wheel. There’s also the suddenness in which your reality comes crashing, dress still on your form, the edges sodden around your ankles, the ring on your finger glinting in the slowly setting sun. Every part of this day has done a complete one eighty.

“We’ll probably have to stop in a few hours,” Steve says, a little more to himself, the hum of the radio spilling into the quiet car, “where do we want to go anyway?”

“I still can’t believe you drove all the way here,” you tell him softly, head turning a bit to take him in.

He’s loosened the tie around his neck, his hair is a little unkempt now, the suit jacket long tossed into the backseat. Those bare forearms of his ripple with each turn of the wheel, your eyes dragging along hair-dusted skin. You’ve missed him; more than you ever could realize, his presence a comfort after being surrounded by people who don’t understand you — not really, at least — for so long.

“I wanted to be here,” he says, “I don’t mind driving, you know that.”

You did. You’d spent many nights circling the familiar streets of Hawkins over the span of a few years once you’d both been able to drive. Those same streets that are unfamiliar now, mere memories in your mind. It had been a few years since everything that happened with Vecna, and a few years since you watched your childhood home grow smaller and smaller in your parent’s rear view mirror, Steve along with it, waving from his parent’s driveway.

“And I wanted to see you,” he adds, glancing your way, those hazel eyes bright in the setting sun.

The idea dawns suddenly, lips moving to form the words before you can think otherwise, “Hawkins. Take me to Hawkins with you.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, a little hesitantly, weariness seeping into his tone. “It's about…a twelve hour drive. I think we can make it to Ohio before getting some sleep for the night. You’ll just need to direct me with the map.”

You answer with a smile, reaching into his glove compartment and pulling out the map, the weathered corners bent like they’d been the last time you’d gone on a road trip with him. After everything had gone to hell at Starcourt, you needed to get away, the two of you taking to the road, a finger swirling around until it landed upon a random state.

It feels like old times, sitting here in the car with him, the windows down, his hair blowing in the wind, and the crisp smell of fall air to greet you.

The drive is quiet for the most part, other than the small exchanges here and there of roads to take, giving him enough time to make sure he’s in the correct lanes and the like.

It dawns on you then how long it’s been since the two of you really talked. Your exchanges throughout the years have been sparse, at best. Always meaningful, but moving twelve hours away has put a strain on your relationship from the get go. Initially you’d aimed for one phone call a week, which had soon turned into once every two weeks, and then down to once a month.

And once Clark had stepped in six months ago, your conversations were even less frequent, and always cut short — Clark never having understood why the two of you were so close.

So you suppose you shouldn’t be too surprised when Steve suddenly asks, “What happened back there?”

“I didn’t want to marry him,” you admit in a whisper, training your gaze ahead at the streets, leaves golden and amber flashing by the passenger side window. “I couldn’t marry him. I didn’t love him — I never loved him.”

It had been an added blessing that it seemed Clark felt the same, his mouth preoccupied with your friend’s minutes before you made your escape out the back door.

“Then why agree to marry the guy?”

It’s an innocent question, but it has your stomach lurching all the same, your lips parting slightly, heart pounding in your throat. “Steve…your parents are like mine. You know why.”

Because it had been arranged that way, Clark’s path pushed in front of yours, the pressures of your parents and their business ventures breathing down your neck. That and Clark had his own goals, as did you, and marrying would help you achieve them.

It wasn’t like you’d ever love him, either.

Love had only been reserved for one man in your life, and he’d never loved you back.

“So you marry some uptight rich guy to make your parents happy? What about how you feel?” His fingers tighten around the steering wheel, voice rising in volume. “And you were going to just go along with it?”

“Stop judging me! It’s not that simple.” His eyes dart to yours, unused to you ever raising your voice at him. “You don’t get it. You gave up that life. I had no choice but to go with them when everything happened the way it did in Hawkins.”

“Yes, because I was tired of feeling like a failure of a son,” he grumbles, carding his fingers through his hair, “tired of being looked at like I was Jonah Harrington’s biggest mistake.”

“You’re not a mistake.” Your fingers reach over the center console, briefly hovering above his bicep before resting there gently, feeling the tension in his form dissolve. “I thought I was doing the right thing for my family. I was trying to buy time and get my inheritance so I could be done with it all eventually. It was stupid, I know. But I’m making this decision right now, running away with you, for myself.”

His hand slides down to grasp yours, bringing the back of your knuckles to his lips to press a kiss there. He’s done it thousands of times over the years, but it has your heart skipping like it does every time, chills dancing along your spine.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly, dropping another gentle kiss to your knuckles, “I’m happy you’re here.”

“Me too, Steve.”

——

The moon comes out to play, and the two of you stop at a gas station just as Steve’s watch reads eight at night. The place is dilapidated at best. Neon glowing lights flickering along the top of the pump, the numbers worn away by weather, the inside of the building covered in inches of grime.

You’d intended to grab some snacks and water bottles, but the lack of sanitation efforts has you wanting to wait for the next convenience store instead. So as Steve pumps the gas, you lean onto the hood of the car, skirts spanning around your thighs, thanking someone as they pass and comment on how beautiful you look.

“You do look beautiful, you know?” Steve lifts his head, those corded muscles on his forearm drawing your attention once more. Head shaking, you tip your head up, eyes narrowing on his face curiously. “A shame you got all dressed up for that guy though.”

“Shut up,” you tease, sticking your tongue out at him, propping your map up on your thighs. “So if my guesses are right, we’ll be getting to Ohio in a little less than three hours. Hopefully the hotels in Powell aren’t full. I’m already pretty tired.”

“If worse comes to worse, we could always sleep in the car —”

“Steve.”

“What?” He raises a hand in surrender, smiling at the angry furrow of your brows. “Wouldn’t be the first time we camped out in the back seat of it.”

“I’d prefer a mattress after the day we both had,” you tell him, folding the map and tucking it beneath your thigh. “We also need to keep an eye out for a store. Pretty sure I saw a cockroach in the gas station, so I’m not trusting anything in there. Plus pork rinds and jerky didn’t exactly sound appealing to me.”

Steve grimaces in agreement, the gas pump clicking, signaling his full tank. He replaces the nozzle on the holder and pushes the flap back into place, snatching the map from your hand as he passes around the front of the vehicle to slide back into the front seat.

You follow suit, shoving your skirts about your thighs, finger toying at a hole in the hem that you must have made while running through the city streets. The realization of thousands of dollars, all for naught, with the lingering fear of your parent’s disappointment swirling in your gut has your stomach churning uncomfortably. But there’s little time to linger on those worries, as Steve slides a finger along your forearm to draw you back to reality, giving you a reassuring smile.

“Look at me,” he demands softly, hazel eyes glowing in the seedy gas station light that flickers above. Lips twitching, you meet his stare, chest warming under the burn of his affection, “there’s that smile I love. Everything is fine.”

There ends up being a small grocery store at the next exit, a little family owned thing, with very few shoppers lingering inside. You offer to go in alone, but Steve insists you’re in another state and he’s not about to leave you by your lonesome. So you end up standing beside him, him all tousled in his dark pants and wrinkled dress shirt, and you in your dress, drawing the attention of curious customers.

“We got lost on our way to the airport for our honeymoon,” Steve tells one person who wanders a little too close for his liking as you grab bags of chips off of a rack, tossing in a jar of salsa for good measure. “Going to stop at that hotel down on Verdant instead. Really want to go above and beyond and treat my wife, you know?”

The one that looked all seedy, like it was practically falling apart, windows broken and covered with wooden slats. The customer eyes the two of you wearily, offering well wishes, sounding a little uncertain as they slowly but surely back away, not wanting to talk any further.

Nothing quells your giggles at that, head pressing into the bag of marshmallows you found, eyes pinched shut to keep your tears at bay. “Steve, they probably think we’re crazy.”

“Speak for yourself, honey,” he chuckles, reaching over to snatch the bag from you, “why do we need these?”

You pluck it back, pouting. “If you must know, they’re for me. I don’t share with guys named Steve who have too many opinions.”

“If we’re getting marshmallows, we need graham crackers and chocolate too,” he points out, reaching over to grab the other two s’mores ingredients from the end cap you’re standing in front of, tossing them into your shopping cart. “For two adults, it looks like we’re buying for a bunch of kids about to enter into a sugar coma.”

“Look — we’ve had a stressful day,” you huff out, pushing the cart further down the aisle, “we’ve earned s’mores and snacks. Plus we need it for the rest of our trip. I saw a coffee shop next door too. I’ll buy it. I feel bad you drove all the way to the city, only to leave again.”

“If I have coffee now, I’ll never fall asleep,” he exhales, shoulder brushing yours as you meander through the aisle, snatching a package of water bottles for the car off a pallet. “I do think we should grab breakfast tomorrow morning. Maybe do a little touristy stop before heading back to Hawkins. What do you think?”

Time alone with Steve? Time you haven’t had in way too long, if you’re being honest with yourself. Even now, standing in the store with him, getting gas with him before that, you realize just how much you’ve missed your best friend. Things like this, so banal and generally uninteresting, have you smiling until your cheeks hurt, brimming to overflow with excitement.

It’s an easy choice, really. “Sounds perfect.”

——

One room. There’s only one room with a single bed left in the whole damn hotel. You suppose it shouldn’t come as a surprise, because nothing has really turned out how you anticipated today.

Still, you ask the woman at the front desk again, and she arches a brow in confusion — likely assuming you and Steve are already having marital issues merely hours after you tied the knot. There’s no use explaining it to any more people tonight. For now, you’re a newlywed, and Steve is your doting groom.

“Not like we’ve never shared a bed before.”

Steve’s voice is a low rumble near your ear as you stare at your distorted reflection in the silver wall of the elevator across from you. The thing is you have shared a bed with Steve numerous times over the years. As teenagers, when you often snuck over to Steve’s, after your parents left for business trip after business trip. He’d leave the window unlatched, a hand there to grab you as you scaled his trellis, blankets already pulled back on your side of the bed.

But for some reason this feels different. Hours ago you’d been engaged to another man — hours ago, after you’d caught said man in an affair, you’d only had one thought. And it had been this man standing before you; though then again, it had always been that way.

Steve Harrington, your beautiful best friend with a big personality and even bigger heart. Steve Harrington, the one that you always wanted, but also the one that never was.

With a steely sigh of resignation, you watch as Steve swipes the key card, flicking the light on in the doorway. It’s a simple room, not the upscale hotels you’re accustomed to. There are no lavish furnishings, no glittering chandeliers. Instead you’re met with a dresser and a dilapidated television. Against the back wall is a bed, the linens starchy beneath your fingertips, though you suppose they’ll have to do.

Steve whistles, glancing up at the popcorn ceilings. “Could be worse, right?” It’s an awkward chuckle, his hands reaching down to undo the buttons around his arms, hair on his chest visible a moment later as he unbuttons the top of his dress shirt. “Shit — just realized we don’t have any clothes. Should have stopped somewhere.”

“It’s fine,” you tell him, because he’s seen you in nearly every state of undress at this point.

In bathing suits over the summer, sitting atop his bathroom sink in your bra after Billy Hargrove had shoved you particularly hard at the Starcourt mall while under possession, your ribs scraped against the hard ground. And you’d seen him the same, beaten and bloodied after his altercation with Jonathan, after the Russians had taken him for questioning and beaten him to a bloody pulp, after the events with Vecna that had left his skin raw and battered.

Though you suppose this is a little different, as it’s the first time he’s going to be undressing you, despite being under different circumstances than those you dreamed of throughout the years. Fantasies you’ve long pushed aside in the catacombs of your mind, to be filed away as ‘things that’ll never happen since he’s your childhood best friend.’

Your fingers tremble as you turn in front of him, exhaling deeply as you mutter out, “I can’t reach the buttons. Could you…please?”

There’s a sense of awareness that settles over you as he approaches from behind. Broad, battle-calloused hands rest at the nape of your neck, drifting lower where they settle on the endless row of buttons there. His breath prickles along your skin, those nimble fingers of his toying with that first button, his inhale shaky as he undoes another, and then another, and another. With each button, more flesh is revealed, the ghost of his touching a phantom along your spine, the dress starting to sag around your breasts, your hands coming up to cup the gown close to your chest.

Steve’s eyes meet yours in the mirror affixed to the wall in front of you — hazel, and sparkling in the ethereal moonlight that pours through the softly parted curtains, tinged with an emotion you can’t quite put a name to. A deep exhale falls from gently parted lips as his knuckles drag along your spine, a delicate line that stops once he reaches the base, freeing you from the last of the buttons. White tulle drops to the ground beneath you, toes kicking it out of the way, leaving you standing there in a cream nightgown, lace detailing around the edges hugging the sumptuous curves of your breasts.

Steve’s throat bobs, clearly not wholly unaffected by all of this, as he peers at you. Your feet carry you backward toward the bed, legs curling beneath your form as Steve moves to unbutton his own shirt, tossing it haphazardly into the corner once it’s free from his torso. He’s the same and different than you remember. All broad chested, a dusting of hair along his upper body, a line from his naval down beneath the dark pants hugging a pair of toned thighs. Scars line his sides where the demobats had bitten into his flesh, his shredded back a tapestry of markings that catch your eye as he walks around the opposite side of the bed and slips in beside you. You avert your eyes, trying to not draw attention to the fact you’ve been ogling, ignoring that simmering ache low in your belly that forms.

If he notices you staring, he says nothing, only settling down on the mattress and shifting so his thighs brush your hips, his head resting on a pillow as he gazes at your profile.

Rolling onto your side, you reach over and trail your fingers along the forearm he tucks under his head, thumb running gentle stripes along the width of it. “Thanks for saving me today.”

“You know I’ll always be there for you,” he whispers back, reaching over your form to turn off the bedside lamp. “Always.”

——

Stones knock against the bedroom window. Rouse you from bed. Head poking up from your pillow, you wander over to the windowsill, hand covering your heart as Steve’s head appears in the opening, body practically thumping against the floor in his hastiness.

Broad palms settle on your biceps, the backs of your thighs pressing into your mattress as he leads you to sit down, hazel eyes meeting yours. Your fingers reach up to glide over his chest — to feel the rapid thump of his heart in his chest.

He’s real.

He’s here.

After worrying for days that something has gotten him too, he’s right here in the flesh.

Alive.

“I saw the news,” you gasp out, swallowing the harsh knot growing in the back of your throat, “Do they really think Eddie Munson did it? Do they really think he killed Chrissy? Fred? Steve, what’s going on? Is it the Upside Down? Let me help you.”

“It’s bad this time. Like — like really bad.” His fingers touch along your temples, poking and prodding, gauging your reaction. Your only reaction, however, is to grip at his wrists, fingers bracelets around his pulse points, head tilting to the side. “Are you in pain anywhere?”

“Steve, I’m fine,” you reassure him, pushing forward to loop your arms around his waist. To push him back against the bed so he can settle down a bit, his thighs against yours. “Your heart is racing. What’s wrong? I’m coming to help next time —”

“You’re not helping this time. Last time was a mistake.”

You’d been driving in the rain one evening back in July and saw Max and El walking on the streets, looking a little dejected, and ended up peering in the window at the Holloway’s when something had gone wrong and demanded the girls tell you what was going on — especially when you were El’s tutor and she usually told you everything. Once you’d found out Steve was missing too, all bets had been off the table for staying out of whatever was bump in the night.

He rolls over onto his side, hand coming up to cup your cheek, smothering your grimace under the softness of his touch. “I can’t…I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to you.”

“Steve.”

Your hand rests over his, eyes boring into his, noting the flush on his cheeks, the glittering lower line of his lashes. Whatever this is, whatever he’s dealing with…the weight is crushing him, and your heart breaks with the immensity it.

His fingers reach over to grasp at your Walkman laying on the bedside table beside your bed. He drops it down onto the mattress between the two of you, a pleading look in those hazel depths.

“Put your favorite song on loop. Keep batteries on you at all times, and keep the headphones nearby until I tell you it’s safe.” Your mouth opens to speak, but he continues, “Please, just trust me. It’s safer for you this way. People are dying.”

“Let me help, Ste —”

“Please,” he begs, dropping his forehead against yours, “just trust me, okay?”

You nod, and in the morning, as you start to feel your body coming to wake, his fingers trace your temple. Like he’s trying to memorize every detail, the calluses on his fingers from years of baseball soothing your soul.

“I love you,” he whispers, like he always does.

I love you, in the way he loves Dustin and Robin or any of the other kids.

I love you, in the way he’s loved you since you were eleven.

I love you, in the way you always tell one another you do.

I love you, in the way he always has, but not in the way you always wished he would.

“I love you,” he says once more, and you slip back into sleep.

——

Went to try and find us some clothes. You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you. Be back soon. - Love, Steve.

With a yawn, you roll over in bed, clutching the note to your chest. It smells like your best friend — that warm vanilla scent with something minty beneath. Comforting and completely him. The space beside you is still warm, the imprint of his body a reminder that he’d even been there at all. Popcorn ceilings meet your field of vision as you flip onto your back, holding aloft your left hand, light coming through the window catching on the glittering diamond there.

“Never thought you were one for a rock that needs an insurance policy,” Steve teases, appearing in the doorway with bags of clothes and other products in hand. “Then again, never thought you’d marry a guy named Clark. What is he, Spider-Man?”

“You mean Superman?”

He shoots a mocking glare your way and settles down beside you on the bed, pulling out various articles of clothing.

“It’s not designer, I hope that’s fine.” You shove at him lightly. He’s gone with a pair of black leggings and a chestnut colored sweater for you, along with a pair of boots that’ll be nice for the fall weather outside. “I eyed the shoe size. Hope they fit.” The shoes are a size too big, but they’ll work, and you laugh as he pulls out a bra and a pair of underwear. His eyes narrow a bit your way, “Just wanted to make sure I covered all the bases. I already got judged enough at the store by the cashier, so do not even go there right now.”

You snicker, tucking the clothes against your chest gratefully. Honestly, nothing sounds better than a new pair of comfortable clothes, ready to be rid of the flimsy dress dancing along your thighs.

“This is perfect,” you tell him honestly. Steve himself went for something similar — a pair of dark blue jeans, a black sweater, and a pair of simple shoes. “I’ll pay you back.”

“Seriously, don’t worry about it,” he says, stopping you from reaching for your wallet. “You couldn’t exactly walk around in your dirty wedding dress for another day.”

“Yeah, but you’ve already done too much for me —”

“You’re my best friend. Stop acting like you’re inconveniencing me. I asked for this. Plus we haven’t hung out much in…oh, I don’t know, two or three years? That’s a lot of lost time to make up for.” As your features soften at his words, he adds, “Now hurry up and get dressed. There’s a diner around the block that looks nice enough and I’m starving.”

——

Fifteen.

You’re fifteen and it’s a dare.

Tommy and Carol think it’s funny.

Seven minutes in heaven with Steve Harrington.

The room is silent, all eyes on you. And maybe it’s the cheap liquor stolen from Steve’s parent’s expensive cabinet running through your system, but when Carol points at you and laughs that you won’t do it, you grip Steve by the collar of his shirt and stomp off to the nearby coat closet.

Steve’s breathless behind you, body thumping yours as you both stumble inside and the door is shut. Without hesitation, you tug on the rope chain connected to a single lightbulb and squint as your eyes adjust to the orange glow radiating off Steve’s golden skin, flushed by the summer sun.

“Time is ticking and we don’t hear kissing!” Tommy cackles, though it’s muffled through the wooden door separating you from the rest of Steve’s guests.

The rest of the room dissolves into fits of giggles, drowned out by the harsh thump of your heart pounding in your ears. The light flickers up above, and part of you wonders if it’s the only imperfection in the Harrington home. Something so trivial, and yet it distracts you from this nerve wracking moment, in this closet, with this boy.

“I’ve — I never…” you babble, feeling your chest heat, embarrassment choking off the rest of your words. “So, like, if we…do this…I don’t really know what I’m doing. And I think if I’m going to get it out of the way, I’d want it to be with someone I trust, and there’s no one I trust more than you. So, like, why not, right?”

Steve’s grinning. A goofy little thing that grows as he steps a little closer, one of his palms curling around your hips, toying with the belt loop on your jean shorts. “You want me to kiss you, hmm?”

Steve’s different now. He’s grown in the four years you’ve known him. He’s handsome, not that he hasn’t always been. But there’s more of him now. His chest is broader, his hair is longer, he’s popular now. By default, you are too. None of that has ever mattered; as long as you have him, you’re happy. But it’s at fifteen that you really understand the love you feel for him isn’t wholly platonic. In fact, the older you get, the more time you spend with him…it only solidifies in your heart that whatever his soul is made up of sings to your own.

It’s equal parts surreal and terrifying.

“Hey…hey,” Steve whispers, voice a coo that he only reserves for you, “what’s the pout for?”

“You’re teasing me,” you tell him, tipping your head up a bit, the fire in your eyes clashing with the worry in his, “and I already told you I’m nervous. You only have one first kiss and I —”

“I’m sorry, you’re right. I'm being an asshole. Let me start over again, yeah?”

You nod, swallowing thickly as he lifts a hand and cups your cheek. The pad of his thumb runs over your bottom lip, parts you for him gently. Shaky breath skitters along your bottom lip, heart thrashing wildly behind your sternum as he takes another step closer and tilts his head down a bit, the warmth of him permeating your thin tank top when his chest brushes yours.

“It’s just me,” he breathes out, noting your trembling, taking another step closer.

His hips bump yours and linger, all the butterflies in your stomach fluttering wildly. A steady beat of ‘kiss me, kiss me, kiss me’ in time with their wings throbs in your blood.

Steve’s thumb strokes back and forth against your lip, drags it down further as your breath mingles in the middle, as you lean up onto your toes and meet him there, humming into his flesh.

The space between you shrinks and he’s there, warm and gentle against your flesh. You barely have time to register the fact he’s kissing you, because a knock sounds from the other side of the door, signaling your time is up. Both of you jolt apart, a little breathless, your hand coming up to rest against your mouth. He swallows thickly and opens the door, the closet awash in bright light, and though he seems mostly unaffected, a solid realization drops into your gut.

You’ve never loved anyone before, and maybe people will say you’re ‘too young’ to know anything about it, but you know with absolute certainty you love Steve Harrington.

——

Steve’s beaming because you’re glowing. Practically bouncing on the balls of your feet as you wander through the park you’d stumbled upon shortly after breakfast, shoes crinkling against fallen leaves as you kick them into the air, glee personified. He wishes he had a camera, if only to capture the way you look right now. You, with your head tipped up to the sky, arms out at your sides, catching the small droplets of rain that began falling only minutes ago on your upturned palms.

He’s already suggested heading back to the car and getting on the road for the remainder of the trip to Hawkins, but the more it rains the happier you seem. As though you’re shedding your old life, a little lighter than you had been hours ago.

He hates that Clark’s ring is still on your finger, especially when he feels the way he does simply looking at you in this moment, but he can only imagine the enormity of the emotions welling in your system. You walked out on your family and your marriage; he knows your family, and knows what consequences might come from your actions.

Maybe you need a moment before popping the bubble and accepting fate? And who is he to hinder your joy? He’d spend every day trying to get you to smile like you are right now, having done so all the years of your friendship, only now it twists his gut tight. A harsh coil, curling around his esophagus, robbing him of his voice and air.

“I love how free and open everything feels here,” you tell him, practically skipping over to his side, shoulder brushing his. “I’ve been in the city so long I forgot what it’s like.”

He knows exactly what you mean. It’s quiet here. Peaceful. For a moment he can pretend you two are the only people in the world. “And soon you’ll be back in Hawkins,” he says, curling an arm around your shoulders, tucking you in close. “Are you excited?”

“A little nervous to see everyone,” you admit, resting your head against his shoulder. “It’s been…”

“Almost three years since you visited.”

He’d come to visit you in the city, on weekends where he could get away and book a plane ticket. But even then, he’d only see you for a weekend at a time. Nothing like before, when you’d spend nearly every day with him, and then once Robin joined the picture, she’d become the third part of your trio.

He can’t wait to have the both of you back together in the same state again.

There is so much he already imagines doing, places he wants to show you, things he wants to share with you.

“Everyone misses you, though,” he reassures you, hating the way your features drop when you whirl around to face him, the amber leaves wrinkling around the edges of your shoes. “They’re going to be so excited. Swear.”

“Pinky promise?” You hold out the sad little pinky, eyes leveling with his.

“We haven’t done one of these since we were seventeen when you asked me to teach you how to parallel park and promised to write my science paper if I helped you pass —”

“Yeah, because I failed the road test and was the only one in our class to not pass on the first try. It was embarrassing.” And you’d been miserable about it. Made it everyone’s problem. He’d thought it cute, the way you’d ripped Tommy H to shreds when he said it was okay you failed because Steve could always chauffeur you around, and you’d flipped the guy off with your favorite finger to throw his way.

Still, he curls his finger around yours and grins, “How do you feel about getting on the road? If we leave now, we should be in Hawkins by dinner time. Maybe we can bother Eddie for a free drink. You know he owns the Hideout now? Expanded it, so it’s a restaurant too now. The owner had passed and trusted Eddie would take care of it. Everyone’s really proud of him.”

You don’t. He’s never told you. It happened the past year, and with Clark entering your life, communication had dwindled a bit. He tried to hide his upset with those first few phone calls. Tried to pretend he never noticed how you’d spoken quicker, as though you were trying to speed up your catch up sessions, as though someone were looking over your shoulder.

It hurt to have the little bits he got to keep of you — the parts he liked to think were for himself — cut even shorter.

Things are different now, he reminds himself. You’re here, with him, heading back to Hawkins.

But for how long…that weary part in the back of his soul whispers. Just as quickly as he has you back, he knows he can lose you now. The thought alone stirs dread within him.

“Do you mind if we stop at a phone booth first? I want to call my family. Make sure they at least know I’m okay.” You’re already gesturing to the booths he can see in the nearby distance, hidden under a halo of golden and flame colored leaves dancing on tree branches.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” He knows them. He knows it’ll be anything but civil conversation.

He watches a grimace flutter across your features. “I think I owe at least that to them.”

——

Calling is a mistake. A huge, unfathomable mistake. The phone booth rests on the outskirts of the park, leaves falling to the ground around you, the fall chill in the air adding to the drop in temperature once you step beneath the awning and dial the number you know by heart.

Steve remains behind you, a comforting hand on your shoulder you accept by lacing your own fingers atop his. There’s a quick greeting, a simple ‘hi’ that spills out from you in a nervous rush, and then the phone blares to life. What feels like dozens of voices burst on the other end. You can hear your father shouting in the distance when your mother says who is calling.

Clark’s voice also appears in the background, and you wonder why he’s with them. It’s not like you ever spent much time with him outside of family obligations.

The relationship had been a ruse, a predisposed desire foisted upon you both by affluent families in want of furthering their ‘prestigious bloodlines,’ a result of societal pressures becoming too much. Many had insisted many married for less, that these arrangements were more common than you were led to believe, that love wasn’t afforded to people ‘like you.’ You hated it — hated all that it stood for.

Your relationship with Clark had never been deeply emotional or physical. A kiss on the brow or a peck on the lips for appearances sake, but you never allowed him near your heart. He was a friend, sure; someone you could talk to, could vent to — but that was all it ever had been.

You were merely upholding the optics your families expected of you both. The plan all along had been to eventually separate after Clark received his promotion within your father’s practice, and you obtained your inheritance before finally deciding what you wanted to do with your own life. Figured it was the least owed after throwing away everything you once knew to play a role you detested as a ‘perfect daughter’ to one of the largest plastic surgeons in the country.

“Where are you?” your father demands, voice a gruff bark, “You must have some grand explanation for walking out and throwing the thousands of dollars I threw into your wedding away.”

“I’m safe,” you tell them, smiling softly to yourself as Steve’s fingers squeeze tight around your shoulder.

“Don’t think we didn’t see you run out with Harrington's son. I had the venue pull the security footage —”

“With Steven?” your mother gasps. “You didn’t tell me that, dear.”

“If this is some affair, you and Clark will deal with it in couple’s counseling. I expect you back here this instant, young lady. I did not raise you the way I did just for you to run back to that hell in a handbasket town —”

“I need time away,” you say, a little bite to your tone you don’t expect, heart hammering away, “I don’t know how long. But I need this, okay?”

“Sweetheart.” Clark’s voice pours through the receiver. It’s fake, you know it’s fake. All appearances because he knows his promotion is in jeopardy. He can’t be sole heir of your father’s practice without the wife needed to secure the deal. “Let’s think rationally here. Come back home, I miss you. Please, my love.”

Steve stiffens behind you, his ear having lowered down to the earpiece. You shake your head and he softens when you tug him nearer by his sweater, relishing in the warmth of his body to block out the cold.

“I only wanted to call to tell you all that I'm okay. And I’m okay. I promise.” Voices start to rise in volume, but the phone slams against the holder and the line grows dead, ready for the next caller. Fingers rise to pinch at the bridge of your nose. Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill out. Steve opens his mouth to speak, but you offer a stiff shake of the head, murmuring, “Can we just…go? I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Y-yeah,” he stutters, sliding a hand down to take yours in his, pulling you from the phone booth. You follow listlessly behind, free hand toying with the edge of your sweater. For someone who always takes up a room with her personality, you seem so small now. Deflated. He hates it. Hates that they hold this power over you, knowing he escaped the same thing years ago now and never looked back. “I love how they still think I’m some shitstain on my family legacy even after all these years. Kind of funny, right, seeing how those people are so miserable, and yet for the first time in my life I’m actually happy.”

You laugh at the blasé nature of his words. He always knows what to say to make you laugh, always has. “I’m glad one of us is.”

He stops, whirling around to cup both your shoulders. “You’ll figure it out too. This will all blow over. It’ll be okay. Do you want me to take you back home?”

The word sinks deep in the pit of your stomach. Home. Is it home, though?

“No,” you mumble, sounding a little forlorn, “no, I want to stay with you.”

“Okay, well…I have one rule when we get back into the car.” His hair dances along his brow as a stray wind picks up. There’s a shadow of stubble along his jaw, and the urge to run your fingers along that new part of him rises up within you. Head tilting to the side curiously at his words, he continues, “Your life back in the city? Doesn’t exist right now, okay? All of that — leave it right here on this walkway. Think you can do that for me?”

You nod, the city laid there to rest on that sidewalk in the middle of Powell, Ohio.

——

Steve visits the first winter after you leave Hawkins. Feels a little out of place as he appears at your parent’s doorway, holding out a bottle of wine he grabbed from a supermarket, in a suit that he knows is ill fitted on his body because he borrowed it from Eddie Munson. Your home is huge; towering white walls, marble floors, a sprawling staircase. But it’s cold and it’s empty and feels empty, without memories to fill it.

Not like your home back in Hawkins, where he spent his days laying on your bed as you studied, or on the couch watching movies, legs tangled in blankets, chairs set around to make silly forts. He misses baking in the kitchen — or rather you baking, while he prattles on about anything that comes to mind as you tossed ingredients together with love and care.

His heart swells as you rush forward, practically leaping into his arms, perfect as you’ve always been. All beaming smiles, melodious laughter, and that incomparable beauty that radiates from within you.

You feel like home — like his; and yet, you’ve always felt that way.

But you’re here and he’s in Hawkins and you’re miles apart now.

And the way your father pulls him to the side after dinner for a not-so-innocent glass of whiskey outside reminds him exactly of that.

“This childhood crush you have — I always thought the two of you would grow out of it. But it’s clear that is not the case.” It’s a dark sound, a sound that has Steve swallowing thickly, fingers tightening around his glass. “We allowed it for as long as we did because it was good for the two of you. Having friends in that town. These are the people my daughter needs to be around. Her peers, her friends, people that she can grow with.”

Steve swallows again. It’s not unlike the conversations he’s had with his own father before his parents left Hawkins. ‘You’re not good enough for her, you’re not good enough in general, you should have scored that hoop, should have won that baseball game, should have gotten better grades, should have joined the family business.’

Should have, should have, should have.

“I love your daughter, sir.”

He’s always dreamed of telling you first. But the moment was never right, sometimes you’d be dating someone, or he would be. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if your feelings were the same. If he learned anything from the knock on his head thanks to Nancy Wheeler, it was that life only passed you by if you waited.

The older man leans back on his chair and sips his drink, the air bitingly frigid, and yet Steve feels hot beneath his clothing. Can feel every wrinkle of fabric against his slick skin. “You know I can’t allow that.”

“Not to be disrespectful, sir, but she’s her own person —”

“That may be true. She has her free will, and both of us are well aware how stubborn she can be, but sometimes that clouds her judgment —” Steve’s mouth opens, but he’s cut off, “What will you be able to provide her? Where are you working these days? That movie shop?”

“I’m — ah —”

“If you were to marry her, how would you provide for your home? For your children, should you have any?”

Steve flounders on the spot. He has his job, and maybe it doesn’t pay what he would like, but he’s also taken up working side jobs with a local contractor. Has started learning how to build, how to fix, has started remodeling Hopper’s old home that he bought off of him when he married Joyce. It’s a fixer upper, but it’s one of the few things he has that he can fully say are his and his alone.

Maybe he doesn’t have everything now, but in a few years…

“Imagine in a few years. You might make her happy now, but what if she wakes up one day and realizes love isn’t enough? When the bills come in and finances are tight — it creates a strain on a relationship, a stress that I don’t think your childhood whims can even sustain. Not forever, at least. She’s used to this.” He waves his hands to the lavish home you live in. “All she knows is this.”

And he cannot measure up. He can’t provide this. Will never be able to reach this unimaginable wealth. Can’t take you to fancy five-star restaurants, still drives the car he’s had for years now, lives in a home that doesn’t have fully functional windows. A home where when it rains he lays out buckets to catch the water droplets that dribble inside through the roof that still needs a ton of love. He has no pension, no fancy 401k, and the barest of savings to his name.

Not enough, he’s not enough, not good enough.

It’s the words that are unsaid that speak the loudest.

He understands immediately what the older man means.

He’s not enough for you.

He’d never been enough for his own family, so why did he assume this would be any different?

“I know I cannot tell you what to do,” the man across from Steve says, a smug grin across his lips that has his blood running cold, “but I would like to make it very clear you will not have my blessing in the matter. Is that understood?”

Steve says nothing, because the door slides open and you’re there in your sparkly dinner dress that likely costs more than what he makes in a week. The differences in your classes have never been so firmly drawn in the sand. You take his hand and urge him inside, smiling at him like he hung the moon, and your father presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Steve, remember what we talked about, son.”

And he’s gone, but his words remain. Swirling, swirling, swirling around inside Steve’s mind. Like little crystalline shards, little daggers, that sink into his skin and twist. Barbs, tangling within him, leaving him reeling and aching.

“Hey,” you whisper softly, brows furrowing, hands cupping his cheeks. “Hey, are you okay?”

You’re warm, stroking his skin so comfortingly, and he smiles down at you, forces it onto his face for your sake. “I’m okay,” he lies, but though you frown a bit at his reply, you smile weakly when he adds, “Missed you, that’s all.”

“There’s a movie playing tonight that I think you’d like. Come with? For old times sake?” Hopeful. You sound so hopeful.

“Sure,” he says hollowly, the mantra of ‘not good enough’ echoing impossibly loud as you walk him down the hall.

——

The rain falls harder now. Thicker droplets that drop against the windshield, little tracks like tears falling down the glass, pushed away a moment later by wipers.

You tug your thighs up closer to your chest, head nodding along to the song playing on the radio. Steve seems far away — lost in thoughts that form a haze over his eyes. Moments ago you’d run your fingers over the backs of his knuckles and he’d offered you a smile, but that wouldn’t do.

“This mountain I must climb,” you sing out, filling the car with your off-key notes, “feels like a world upon my shoulders.”

“What are you doing?” Steve chuckles, head turning your way. There’s a nervousness about him that feels unfamiliar. A conscientiousness that’s usually not there when it comes to him.

Trying to break him out of whatever spell he’s in, your hand splays out, clutching at the sleeve of his sweater dramatically, waving his arm in the air.

“Through the clouds I see love shine —” Another grand swirl of your free hand, and a laugh bursts from him. “It keeps me warm as life grows colder. Come on, Steve!”

“In my life, there’s been heartache and pain,” he mumbles beside you, thumb tap-tapping against the steering wheel. From where you’re sitting, you can see the twitch of his lips, the corners climbing upward. “I don't know if I can face it again.”

You both break into a fit of giggles as the next lines come through the speakers. And then, with your hand against your heart and his waving out in a flourish that teasingly thumps your chest you both cry out in equally as horrendous voices, “I wanna know what love iiiiis. I want you to show meee.”

You turn to face him, staring intently in his eyes, both of you wailing from deep within your bellies, “I wanna feel what love is. I know you can show meee.”

Your head falls against his shoulder, both your shoulders shaking as the song continues around you, eyes following the tracks of the raindrops spilling onto the glass. Comforting, it’s comforting and feels like home.

The chorus blares again and you catch Steve mouthing the words to the song, his eyes a little misty, your heart splintering down the middle.

Trying to break the quiet tension in the car, you tease, “Is that a tear in your eye I see, Steve Harrington?”

He shoves you lightly, though he makes no effort to move you from his shoulder, sniffling noisily. “Shut up.”

“It’s an emotional song. I don’t blame you,” you giggle airily, looping an arm around his waist, the gearshift digging into your middle. You’re about to ask him what has him in his thoughts just as a rectangular object flashes by your side of the car. “Oh! Was that the —”

“Welcome to Hawkins,” he says softly, your head whipping behind you to catch the back of the sign declaring your entrance to your childhood town.

“I’m back?” You breathe out, nose nearly pressing up against the windshield, despite Steve trying to pull you into your seat by the back of your sweater. “Steve?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles breathily, “you’re home.”

“Home.” Endless rows of lush trees fly by, the rumble of distant thunder drowning out the Foreigner song blaring through Steve’s stereo system. “It’s been so long. Still kinda smells.”

“Definitely still smells over here,” he admits, finally managing to get you to rest back against your seat. “Calm down, you dork.”

Wrinkling your nose at him, you suddenly jump, clapping his forearm rapidly with your excited palm. “Oh my gosh — I get to finally see your place!”

“You get to stay at my place too,” he muses, smirking in a way that has your toes curling a bit in your shoes.

You watch as familiar buildings come into view. Different than they were before the town had been devastated by Vecna, but they're all the same. He winds down roads with names you can still remember, weaving along streets until making his way down the path toward where you knew Hopper’s old cabin to be. Only as you pull up, glancing out the window up at the beautiful trees above, it’s much different than you remember. Gorgeous, nestled away as it is in the middle of one of the most peaceful places in all of Hawkins. Larger and triangular on top, with wide windows and a wrap around deck. Beneath a wooden awning are two wooden chairs, facing your direction. A porch light glows with a yellow light, illuminating the deck and the car just feet away from where Steve parked.

“Were you expecting company?” You push the clasp of your seatbelt free, grabbing your things and pushing the passenger side door open. Leaves crinkle and crunch beneath your feet as you step out, rain droplets falling onto your head.

“Looks like Eddie is still here. That’s his fiancée’s car.”

“Eddie’s here.” He nods at your query, stepping in closer, arm there to loop around your shoulders. “Your home…it’s so much different than it was. It’s — it’s amazing, Steve.”

“Figured it needed some remodeling, seeing as monsters had ripped through it.” He grins to himself at your compliment, though, pride radiating off of his form. “It does look pretty great, doesn’t it? I’m proud of it. Mr. Lafferty gets all the credit. He taught me everything I know.”

“Mr. Lafferty…” The name sounds familiar. He’d been one of the few carpenters in town.

“He passed away a few months ago.” Steve grimaces. “But he helped a ton. We expanded the place, added some rooms, and updated it. It’s…well, it’s home.”

“Show me?”

He nods, pulling you along the makeshift walkway beside him. Rocks shift and move as you follow him, shoes tapping against the wooden steps leading to the front door. Steve pushes it open and you’re greeted with high ceilings, wooden beams along the walls, a fireplace set in the far right corner, two gray couches nearby with a wooden table in the middle of the space. There’s a television in the corner, and set back against the far wall is the open kitchen area.

“You are…not at a wedding,” Eddie murmurs, appearing from within the refrigerator, open beer can in hand. “Thought you were getting hitched.”

“Decided marriage wasn’t for me,” you laugh, rushing forward to slam into the man, sighing happily into his chest as arms loop low around your waist. “But Steve tells me you’re getting married.”

“Yeah, somehow tricked a girl into saying yes,” he chuckles, taking a step back to look at you. “You look great.”

“You do too!” His scars look faded by time now, his hair longer than you remember, earring twinkling behind those dark curls of his. “And who is this?”

There, on a little mat in the corner of the kitchen, is a little orange kitten. It peers up at you with honey colored eyes, a little nervous as it pads closer to Eddie. The metalhead scoops the kitten in hand, little kitten limbs spilling over his forearm.

“This is my nephew, Garfield,” Eddie says, rubbing at a tiny furry ear. “Steve found him behind the Hideout. I managed to convince him to keep it. Poor guy is out here living all on his own, it was only a matter of time before he started talking to the trees. As his best friend, I needed to look out for him, you know? So I figured talking to a cat would be more acceptable.”

“Very funny, asshole.” Steve plucks the kitten from his friend, holding it between the two of you. Your eager fingers reach out to pet it, the little head tilting upward to maximize chin scratches, a rumbly purr vibrating against your fingertips. “You fed him?”

“Fed him, cleaned up after him. By the time you have human babies, I’ll be a pro.” Eddie clapped his best friend on the back, giving you another hug. “I should get back. Promised Abi I would grab pizza on the way home. I’ll see you both around. Enjoy your night, kids.”

His ringed fingers waggle and your cheeks burn. “Oh, it’s not like —”

He offers a parting bow and slips out the door, his boots thundering on the front steps, leaving you alone in Steve’s home. Alone again, you take another glance about the space, noting the staircase against the opposite wall.

Raising a finger in the air, you ask, “Your cabin has a second floor?”

“Yeah.” He nods, jerking his head in the direction of the stairs. “Come on.”

Following him, you walk the few stairs leading to his bedroom, taking in the large king bed set against more windows that bleed moonlight into the otherwise dark space, the tan and cream pillows piled high against a dark comforter, his closet in the corner. There’s a woven basket in one corner, various plaid and knitted blankets poking out. To your left is what he tells you is the bathroom, door closed for now.

Even without the fire presently burning in the fireplace, the home feels warm. Like something Steve has put his heart and soul into to make it exactly what he envisioned. Proud doesn’t even start to touch the emotions welling up within you for the man.

All of this. He’s done all of this in the years since you’ve been gone.

“So, uh, you can use the bed? I have a ton of blankets, so I can always sleep on the couch. For however long you want to stay.”

“Steve, no.” He arches a brow. “This is your home. You didn’t plan on hosting. You take the bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Or…” Steve places Garfield down on the edge of the bed, the kitten curling up into a content ball, paws kneading into the comforter below. “we just…share? Again, nothing we’ve never done before. Just like the thousands of other times we’ve done it.”

“I mean. Hell, we did that last night too.” You shrug, because he’s not wrong to suggest simply sharing again.

“Exactly.” Steve watches as you walk around his bedroom, taking in the sights. “I got you pajamas. They’re in the car, so I’ll just have to run out and grab them quickly. We can go shopping for more stuff in the morning. If you’re…planning on staying for a bit.”

“Yeah…I mean, I haven’t thought about for how long, and I don’t want to put you out for longer than I —”

“You can stay however long you need to. Or want to. Not a problem.” Steve clears his throat, hand coming up to run along the back of his neck.

“Okay.” You nod.

“Okay,” he echoes.

That’s that.

And later, as you both curl up beneath the blankets, Garfield lying comfortably near Steve’s feet, you whisper into the darkness.

“Hey, Steve?”

“Yeah?”

You can feel him in the bed behind you. There’s enough distance between you that it feels like a chasm, though.

“I’m cold.”

He exhales a yawn. “Do you want me to throw more logs on the fire?”

“No…” You shift backward a little, your frigid feet touching his warmer ones. “Can you, uh…get closer? Like when we were younger.”

Bandaged knees. Summer slick skin. The smell of sunblock in the air. Bodies huddled together, legs tangled and arms wound right. Nights where you fell asleep against him on the couch during winter, his heartbeat a lullaby. Laying under the stars at Lover’s Lake, losing track of time, and having to rush back home as the sun set to get ready for school, his hair a wreck. Images flicker in your mind, memories of times long ago.

It feels different now. Changed, as his body sidles in closer, a muscular arm coming to curl low around your waist. A hum pours from you as he tugs you against his chest, the feeling of his breath at the back of your neck a comfort that has your head nuzzling further into a fluffy pillow.

“Is this good?” he asks, resting his forehead against the back of your head, the rumble of his chest vibrating along your spine.

“Perfect.”

And as his breathing slows and he starts to drift off to sleep, you can’t help but to think about how warm he feels. About how easy it would be to lose yourself in this fantasy — of staying here, in this home, with the person you love.

Therein lies your problem.

——

please please interact if you like. it means the world to content creators. and as always, i am so happy to share a new story with you all. 🩷

#lunalovessteve #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfiction

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absolutebl · 4 months

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Best 23 of BL 2023 - Quirky Awards

SHOCK & AWE AWARDS

1. Biggest BL surprise of 2023:

The last 3 months of 2023 in general got my biggest WTF award.

GMMTV fielding OffGun AND TayNew in the same quarter while also airing Last Twilight (arguably one of their best BLs ever)

That they ALSO optioned 3 JBLs

That there's a high heat omegaverse BL staring Pavel

That there were 20 BLs airing and none of them Korean.

With 5 VAMPIRE BLs announced for next year

But my prize in this category goes to My Dear Gangster Oppa.

It's just crazy:

Thai talent, Korean money + IP (this is adapted from a manwha) airing on a Chinese channel (iQIYI). Plus it was GOOD and made smart reuse of a pair who richly deserved it. I'm delighted by the eclectic insanity of this production. And wonder if any other film genre could even do anything like this.

2. The “that country did WHAT?” award:

The 8th Sense from Korea?!

I mean, seriously?! Dealing with metal health, suicide, darkness, therapy, age gap, & first time love BUT FROM KOREA? And then openness and casual boyfriend physical affection? What's next? An actual hard fought coming out narrative with an HEA? Gay domesticity and families?

Careful Korea, you'll strain something. Possibly your own culture and film industry.

I should stop having expectations of Korea, they keep surprising me.

Runners up: Korea letting OnlyOneOf do Bump Up Business not to mention that OmegaX thing. AND Korea adapting Why R U? What are you up to, Korea? Qua? Is this a coded message? Should we send help? Do you need snacks?

3. Biggest casting whoa! where did you come from? award:

GeminiFourth in My School President.

Seriously? Babies what? How did GMMTV find you? How do you exist? How is BL this lucky?

4. That studio did WHAT now? award:

GMMTV putting EarthMix into Moonlight Chicken.

And then doubling down with G4 as the damn sides.

Fucking genius.

5. I’m sad you were ignored award:

Destiny Seeker.

It's just a really fun little Thai pulp, the pairs were good, silly dialogue, plus consent and other good rep. I enjoyed it. No one talked about it AT ALL.

6. 2023 BL That Actually Made Me Lose My Mind Award?

Laws of Attraction. -The casting, the crazy story, the soapy drama! But specifically: Film playing Charn - the range of his smiles alone. GLORIOUS

I mean I Feel You Linger in the Air also sparked something in me, but LoA drove me actually nuts.

NARRATIVE AWARDS

7. Best story 2023:

La Pluie

I know, you're surprised, right? At the time I didn't chat much about it but I really enjoyed the discourse others were having. I love anything that really examines the fated mates (soulmates) trope and the idea of "the one". What a clever way to do that. (This is one reason UWMA is my favorite Thai BL.)

This one reminded me of the way Color Rush approached allegory and that's no bad thing. Such an impressive little piece.

8. Best narrative structure 2023 award:

Unintentional Love Story.

I know this may seem a simplistic pick. But I love the tidiness of this no frills contemporary romance, how the culture of work and personal ethics and corruption fight against the main character's affection and integrity. Poor baby boy is driven into a corner and then punished for it. But it is punishment he feels he deserves, and so it is up to his (now) ex to figure out what went wrong and why.

It's just great. I love it when no one is stupid or wrong, it's just impossible circumstances and unintentional love deeply felt.

9. Best 2023 dialogue (script) award:

Jun & Jun

Never before has Korea laced a BL with that much perfectly executed innuendo. It was a master class. I didn't know you could be that lascivious in Korean, quite frankly. Plus the way the 2 Juns constantly seamlessly transition between formal register (work, public - where they are boss/employee) to informal register (when they are alone and age mates + childhood sweethearts).

Beautiful to hear and watch.

10. Favorite scene 2023:

The dub con scene in I Cannot Reach You because I AM TRASH for an out of control seme. I'm sorry I just AM.

I have said it before, I will say it again, NO ONE DOES THIRST like Japan. And when that thirst bubbles over, it is heart-clenching and very hot.

11. The most rewatchable BL of 2023 award:

Our Dating Sim

That scene where they lie on the floor + the stolen kiss + giggle? Come on, it should be on comfort repeat in war rooms. It could bring world peace.

ACTORS & CHARACTERS AWARDS

12. Best performance of a queer actor in a leading role, 2023:

Fluke in Make a Wish.

It was fun to see him as an irreverent immortal and while I love OhmFluke I also really enjoyed this new pairing. It was a genuine pleasure to watch.

13. Best pining 2023:

The moot pining in Tokyo in April is...

Boys, seriously? Japan must you destroy us like this? Hurts so good.

14. Best wingman 2023 (The Namgoong Award)

Tiw from My School President

I mean, come on, of course it's him!

(Also can you believe Mark went on from this to do fricking Only Friends!? To Last Twilight! Come on GMMTV GIVE HIM A LEAD!)

15. Biggest OMG I LOVE you boys together, YAY!

Dimpled McMafia & Feral Bunny Foo Foo from Kiseki Dear to Me.

They were feral for each other.

We were feral for them

It was a whole delightful THING.

16. Most unexpected return of a BL pair? award:

The Private Lessons pair showing up in Love Class 2.

I know it was only a cameo, but SERIOUSLY? Thank you SO MUCH Korea! A big studio picking up a Strongberry pairing? I love you.

Seriously tho between them, Taiwan & Korea tried for ALL THE CAMEOS this year.

17. Well aren't you two just the prettiest? award:

NetJames in Bed Friend.

Need I say more?

18. LIFETIME ACHIEVEMENT AWARD

Bah Vinh in Vian & Mr Cinderella 2. I did like either show but I loved him in them. Especially the make outs.

Yes you have chemistry with all the boys in Vietnam and you kiss beautifully. But it's okay now honey, you have the crown. Relax, you're stressing us out.

RANDOM PICKS

19. Favorite Linguistic Moment of 2023:

Our Dating Sim

Caught in the act by the elevator scene. OMG it's so funny. They're being such boyfriend shits to each other, and to be caught in the act by THAT character, and try to manifest formal language whole cloth? Hilarious.

Honorable mention to War Peanuts in Destiny Seeker.

20. Biggest disappointment of 2023:

You Are Mine

Seriously Taiwan, AGAIN you disappoint me with an Office BL? You're Taiwan, land of offices and suits. This should be YOUR SETTING TO WIN. And yet... argh. I mean it wasn't bad. But it wasn't good either. Stop it Taiwan, do better.

Runners up? Between Us, Chains of Heart, Dangerous Romance - this was a HOTLY contested category.

+ 2 Winners in the sub-category of FUCK YOU FOR THAT ENDING award:

The Director who Buys Me Dinner - I mean this nicely but: you have your lane now Korea, stop hurting us, that's Japan's responsibility and they do it better.

I Feel You Linger In the Air - I'm just hugely disappointed. Thailand ALMOST got its second 10/10 from me, but that damn ending.

Argh.

21. Best Wardrobe/Prop Use 2023

The shower of packaged bedsheets in My Personal Weatherman

Amazing. Brilliant. No notes.

22. Best Queer Rep 2023

Chot in Step By Step

In fact, all the queer characters in this show were treated with great integrity.

AND props to this cast for refusing to do fan service. GOOD FOR YOU! Fuck those sasang wankers.

Runners up? The found family cast of Love in Translation and the Rainbow Rice Cakes in The New Employee.

23. Best Meta Trope call out

Tin Tem Jai

Come on, what a zinger, but at themselves (and Taiwan)

Final question: which of the 23 was the hardest for me to pick?

Honestly? Question #1 this year. But also question #20.

(Last year: 2022's Version)

Remember I only pull from shows that were completely finished by the end of 2023. Or The Sign probably would have taken multiple categories. But it will fall into 2024 offerings.

(source)

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xtra7s · 1 month

Text

𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙛𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙨

𝚁𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚎 𝚁𝚊𝚙𝚙 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Synopsis: Renee realizes her girlfriend is struggling and comes back from her tour.

Content: depression warning, fluff, deep talks/discussions, just tw

Word Count: 1.800+

a/n: I havent been writing lately, but I was listening to my shitty ass sad playlist after I hit my bong n wanted to write based on how I felt. Srry it's sad lol.

Masterlist |

As Y/N lay in bed, surrounded by the suffocating weight of her thoughts, she felt as if she were trapped. Depression wasn't just a feeling; it was a state of being, an all-encompassing darkness that clouded her mind and consumed her soul.

The disassociation was perhaps the most insidious aspect of it all. It was like watching her life unfold from behind a thick pane of glass, disconnected from the world around her. She went through the motions of her daily routine, but it felt hollow, as if she were merely a spectator in her own life like she was sleeping.

Numbness was her constant companion, a thick fog that dulled her senses and dulled the vibrant colors of the world around her. It was difficult to muster up any enthusiasm or joy when every emotion seemed to be buried beneath layers of apathy, she just felt lost, like she was suffocating.

Boredom was another relentless adversary, gnawing at her from the inside out. No matter what she did, nothing seemed to hold her interest for long. Hobbies that once brought her joy now felt like meaningless distractions, and even the simplest tasks felt like Herculean feats.

But perhaps the cruelest aspect of it all was the overwhelming loneliness that seemed to suffocate her at every turn. It wasn't just a lack of companionship; it was a profound sense of isolation, a feeling of being utterly and completely alone in the world.

Even when surrounded by friends and loved ones, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that she was nobody's person. It was as if she were standing on the outside looking in, watching as everyone else lived their lives while she remained stuck in place, unable to move forward.

And so, as she lay in bed, tears streaming down her cheeks, Y/N couldn't help but feel as if she were buried alive and clawing at the wood til her fingers bled.

The room was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the sun that shined through the curtains, much to Y/N's discomfort. It was a familiar scene, one that had become all too common in recent months, she didn't have the energy to shut the blinds.

Depression had become Y/N's unwanted companion, a shadow that followed her every step, always coming back even after she thought she got rid of it. Loneliness was its cruelest weapon, wrapping around her like a suffocating blanket, isolating her from the world.

She had tried to fight it, tried to push through the fog that clouded her mind, but tonight, it felt like an impossible task. Tears welled in her eyes as she stared blankly at the ceiling, feeling utterly lost and alone.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, her girlfriend Renee had sensed the shift in her demeanor. Renee had been on tour for the past few weeks, but even from miles away, she could feel when something was amiss with Y/N.

Tonight, as Renee finished her performance on stage, her thoughts were consumed by Y/N. Something didn't feel right, a nagging sense of worry gnawing at her heart. Ignoring the cheers of the crowd, Renee hurried back to her dressing room, her mind racing with concern.

Once backstage, Renee grabbed her phone, her fingers trembling as she dialed Y/N's number. It rang once, twice, before Y/N's voice echoed through the receiver, thick with emotion.

"Hey," Y/N murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Hey, love," Renee replied, her heart aching at the sound of Y/N's voice. "Is everything okay?"

Y/N hesitated, the lump in her throat making it difficult to speak. But Renee's presence, even over the phone, was a balm to her weary soul.

"I… I don't know," Y/N confessed, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I just… I feel so lost, Renee. Like I'm drowning in my own thoughts."

Renee's heart shattered at Y/N's words, the pain in her voice cutting through her like a knife. Without a second thought, she made a decision.

"Y/N, I'm coming home," Renee declared, her voice filled with determination. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat at the sincerity in Renee's words. Despite the distance between them, Renee's love was a beacon of light in the darkness.

"Please hurry," Y/N whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

"I will," Renee promised, her own tears mingling with Y/N's across the miles. "I love you, Y/N. Just hold on a little longer, okay?"

As they hung up, a spark of hope ignited within her chest. Even in her darkest moments, Renee was her guiding star, leading her back to the light.

The moment Renee stepped through the door, she could feel the heavy atmosphere weighing down the air. The dimly lit apartment seemed to echo with Y/N's silent struggle, and Renee's heart clenched at the sight.

Renee quickly made her way to the bedroom, where she found Y/N curled up under the blankets, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. Without a word, Renee slipped into bed beside her, wrapping her arms around Y/N and pulling her close.

Y/N melted into Renee's embrace, her body trembling with the weight of her emotions. Renee held her tightly, offering silent comfort as Y/N buried her face in Renee's chest, seeking solace in her warmth.

For a long moment, they lay there in silence, the only sound the steady rhythm of their breathing. But eventually, Y/N found the courage to speak, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm sorry, Renee," Y/N murmured, her words muffled against Renee's shirt. "I hate that you have to see me like this."

Renee brushed a gentle kiss against Y/N's forehead, her heart aching at the pain in her eyes.

"Don't apologize, love," Renee murmured, her voice tender. "You never have to apologize for how you feel. I'm here for you, always."

Y/N's breath hitched at Renee's words, the love and acceptance in her voice a balm to her wounded soul.

"I just… I don't know how to cope anymore," Y/N confessed, her voice breaking with emotion. "It feels like I'm drowning.."

Renee's heart clenched at the despair in Y/N's voice, but she refused to let it consume them. With a gentle hand, she tilted Y/N's chin up, meeting her gaze with unwavering determination.

"You're not alone in this, Y/N," Renee said firmly, her eyes brimming with love. "We'll get through this together, okay? I'll be right here by your side every step of the way."

Y/N nodded, a glimmer of hope sparking in her eyes as Renee's words washed over her like a lifeline.

"What if I never get better?" Y/N whispered, her voice laced with fear.

Renee's heart broke at the vulnerability in Y/N's words, shaking her head.

"We'll figure it out together," Renee promised, her voice shaky. "There are so many ways we can tackle this, whether it's therapy, medication, or finding what works for you. We'll take it one day at a time."

Y/N's shoulders sagged with relief at Renee's unwavering support, the weight of her burden suddenly feeling a little lighter.

"Thank you, Renee," Y/N whispered, tears shimmering in her eyes. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Renee brushed a tender kiss against Y/N's lips, pouring all of her love and devotion into the gentle caress.

"You'll never have to find out," Renee promised, her voice filled with conviction. "I love you, Y/N. And I'm not going anywhere."

As Y/N lay in Renee's arms, her thoughts churned with a whirlwind of emotions. The weight of her depression bore down on her like a heavy anchor, dragging her deeper into the abyss of her own mind.

"Renee," Y/N's voice wavered, breaking the heavy silence that enveloped them. "I feel like I'm stuck. Like I'm trapped in this endless cycle of figuring it all out then knowing nothing again."

Renee's heart ached at the tremble in Y/N's voice, her grip tightening around Y/N's trembling form.

"I know, love," Renee murmured, her voice soft with understanding. "I'm here.."

Y/N's eyes glistened with unshed tears as she gazed up at Renee, her vulnerability laid bare for the world to see.

"But what if it's not enough?" Y/N whispered, her cracking ever so slightly as she spoke. "I feel like I'll always be this way. I never seem to get better, Renee."

Renee's heart shattered at the despair in Y/N's words, the fear of losing her consuming her from the inside out.

"You're not broken, Y/N," Renee insisted, her voice firm with conviction. "You're human. And humans are allowed to feel lost sometimes. But that doesn't mean you can't find your way back."

Y/N smiled sadly at Renee, trying to believe her words.

"I just… I feel like I'm losing everyone," Y/N confessed, her voice trembling with emotion. "And I'm so scared of being alone."

Renee's heart constricted at the raw honesty in Y/N's words, the pain of her loneliness echoing in her own soul.

"You're not alone, Y/N," Renee whispered, her voice laced with tenderness. "You're my person, and I'm yours. We'll navigate your darkness together, hand in hand, until we find our way back to the light."

Y/N's tears flowed freely now, cascading down her cheeks like a waterfall of emotion. But with Renee's unwavering love to anchor her, she felt a glimmer of hope amidst the storm.

"Thank you, Renee," Y/N murmured, her voice choked with gratitude. "For being my light in the darkness."

Renee pressed a gentle kiss against Y/N's forehead, pouring all of her love and devotion into the tender gesture.

"Always, love," Renee promised, her voice a whispered vow. "I'll always be here for you. No matter what."

As the weight of their shared emotions began to ease, exhaustion swept over Y/N like a gentle tide, pulling her into the embrace of sleep. Renee held her close, their bodies entwined in a comforting embrace.

In the quiet of the night, as the world outside fell into a hushed slumber, Renee pressed a tender kiss to Y/N's temple, her lips lingering against the warmth of her skin.

"Sleep now, my love," Renee whispered, her voice a soft murmur in the darkness. "And remember, don't kill the flowers."

Y/N watched Renee sleepily, hooded eyes silently agreeing with her words. Sleep soon claimed her, pulling her into its gentle embrace.

And as they drifted into dreams, the promise of a new day.

𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴.

#renee rapp #renee rapp x reader #wlw #lesbian #leighton murray #leighton murray x reader #the sex lives of college girls #lgbtq #mean girls #regina george x reader

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moonalumi · 5 months

Text

taking care of ellie

basically the dina and ellie scene when she comes back from killing nora

warnings- bloodmentions, bruises, nudity (undressing ellie to clean her up) ,

“you comfy?” you softly ask as you seat ellie down and give her a kiss on the forehead.

she nods, looking down at her shaky hands. your heart hurts just at the sight of tears threatening to spill down her eyes. you’ve never seen her this level of vulnerable before and although the situation is sucky your heart still swells that she trusts you enough to keep her safe, to not judge her and love her unconditionally; which is exactly what you do.

“okay, arms up” you command, and help ellie take off her blood colored shirt. stopping and taking it off more slowly when she winces in pain.

“oh els i’m sorry” you whisper and leave another sweet kiss to her head. ellie merely mumbles something as you sit behind her and start washing her shoulders and back.

“tell me if it hurts, okay love?”

“okay” ellie chokes out, her voice so shaky it makes you frown.

minutes pass by of you scrubbing away the blood and dirt from her freckled skin,

“i made her talk” ellie abruptly says. you look up at her to see a tear fall down her cheek. ellie’s breathing stutters as she looks down at herself and you pull her back to lean into you.

“hey hey els it’s okay” you whisper and wrap your arms around her. ellie’s breathing slows once she puts her hand on top of yours.

“i don’t wanna lose you” she whispers, rubbing her thumb over your hand.

a kiss to her shoulder and you’re pullling her even closer to you, “good, because you won’t.” ellie sighs, you can feel her relaxing more and more in your hold.

“i’m gonna keep cleaning you up okay i’ll try to be quick” you say before you unwrap your arms around her and now stand in front of ellie, who’s looking up at you with nothing but love and admiration all behind those teary green eyes of hers.

you clean off her arms, chest, and stomach before you lean down, “ellie can i take these off? i don’t know how you can sleep in jeans” you say chuckling slightly.

ellie nods and lift her hips up slightly so you can unbutton and start sliding off her jeans. kissing her bruised knees before throwing her jeans into a pile to clean. you start cleaning off the dirt off her legs and feet, not forgetting to leave kisses on any bruise you see on her body.

you briefly look up when you hear ellie sniffling and her breathing pick up again and you cup her face.

“ellie baby, it’s okay your safe here” you whisper as you situate yourself to sitting in her lap. wiping her tears away as your own tears threaten to spill.

it hurts seeing her like this. her cute little face looking so worried, her eyebrows scrunched up, and her usually bright eyes now clouded with tears. ellie hides her face in the crook of your neck and cages you in her arms.

“i don’t know what i’d do without you” she stutters. you pull her back from your neck so you can kiss her. give her the softest most loving kiss. one that makes ellie melt to the point you can feel her heart beat racing against you.

smiling, you both pull away from the kiss. “babeee” ellie whines when she sees you pull the soapy sponge up and start cleaning off her face.

“shhh i want your face to be at least clean before i start kissing you”

ellie huffs and pulls you impossibly closer to her.

“mmm and stop pouting” you say giggling as you scrub her nose and smiling even more when it scrunches up.

“i’m not pouting you’re the one taking forever doing this” ellie says moving her face away from the sponge.

cleaning off the last bits, you sigh and throw the sponge back into the bucket and start attacking her face in kisses.

ellie falls back, holding onto your waist whilst trying to move away from you.

“babeeee m’stop” she complains

“oh so you don’t like my kisses?”

“n-no wait! that’s not-“

you cut ellie off by giggling and kissing her. finally settling in bed together with ellie’s head nuzzled in your neck.

the feeling of ellie’s weight on you causing you to give a sleepy smile and kiss her head. “i love you els, i love that i get to take care of you like this”

“thank you so much…” ellie rasps, already half asleep, “i love you i seriously don’t know what if do without you”

“shhh don’t even think about that just go to sleep, sleepyhead”

you feel ellie smile against you but soon enough you feel her breathing slow more and more to shallow breaths letting you know she’s fallen asleep.

#ellie #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #tlou #ellie x reader #ellie williams fic #ellie fluff #ellie x fem reader #ellie x masc reader #seattle ellie #ellie x y/n #the last of us #wlw

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sleepingelvhen · 4 months

Text

Sleeping Spider Lily Pt.1

Blade/Reader NSFW Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 -- [🌹Part 4🌹] Minors DO NOT interact MASTERLIST Once, you were in love with a man called Yingxing. That man died during his involvement with Dan Feng’s betrayal. At least, so you thought. Jing Yuan helped you through your turmoil, comforted you in your pain, and eventually you were able to move on and live your life. Little did you know your lover was simply lying in wait. After years of suffering and pain, Blade arrives on the Luofu with a mission at hand, everything planned for him. That is until he sees you…and all the memories come flooding back.

Days stretched on as if they were years upon years. Every moment nearly torture since you lost the love of your life. You knew Jing Yuan could see it on your face, the numbness in your voice, the distant look in your eyes, the way your body moved robotically during your work in the commission. It was probably a depressing sight, but all sense of self disappeared when Yingxing was gone, and it was impossible to bring yourself back.

You blamed yourself first, lectured yourself on how you could have supported him better, understood him better to stop what he was planning. Then you started blaming the Imbibitor Lunae, focused your attention on your hatred towards the Vidhyadharan high elder for leading Yingxing to his betrayal and death.

Then, when there was no one to blame, when you had to face the reality of his death, you fell into a depression that made it impossible for Jing Yuan to sit aside and watch anymore. He stepped in and pulled you up and suddenly you were on different kinds of missions.

Instead of working on papers and writing reports to the commission, you were going out on patrols with the cloud knights or even with Jing Yuan himself. He talked your ear off, took you out to tea or dinner, he made sure you had company and that you were never alone with your thoughts. Jing Yuan helped you stand and helped you move on. He knew what you needed, and he became your best friend over the many, many years.

Your life filled with new passions and new friends, Jing Yuan shared in your pain and together you kept living. You became a sword in the dark for him, you hunted in the night and fought for Jing Yuan when he couldn’t step away. Together you were a force the Luofu trusted to keep them safe. Finally, you were healing from the pain that seemed to last centuries. Finally you were happy.

The Aeons seemed dissatisfied with your suffering, however. Or maybe your luck had completely run dry. Whatever it was, your mind reeled from what you saw before you.

He walked down the hallway of the Shackling Prison, two guards at his sides, his arms tied in front of him, head low. You watched as his long silky hair swayed with each step, a familiar gait once prideful with long strides was now slow and meticulous.

The blackish-blue hair was familiar, a reminder of when he was young, when you first met him. It was strange at first, having once gotten used to the white color he sported as he aged. But, you found yourself thrown right back to the past. The way he would stare at you, the way his hair felt in your fingers.

The past is gone now. Eyes that once looked upon you with affection now glowed red with anger and bloodlust, a smirk glowering on his face as he looked up at Jing Yuan who had Yanqing at his side, sword at the ready.

"Do you remember me?" Jing Yuan asked, shocking you to your core. He had known...of course he had.

“I do...Of five people, three must pay a price,” he spoke, his voice gravely and deep, daunting in the dark. It echoed in the silent, near empty room, a voice that sounded all too familiar. A voice that made tears spring into your eyes. “You…are not one of them, Jing Yuan.”

You simply watched the scene before you, eyes wide, your body hidden in the shadows of the prison. Your lip trembled along with your fingers, as if your whole body was cold, except you were on the verge of a complete breakdown.

None of the words Jing Yuan said after that registered in your mind, like your ears were completely muffled. Everything around you spun, your eyes only able to see Yingxing, or rather what he had become after years of whatever had happened to him.

This wasn’t the Yingxing you knew…the way he looked at Jingyuan, the way he stood, it was all in anticipation of violence. But he looked like him and you wanted it to be him, your eyes roamed his entire body in desperation for anything that looked like the man he used to be.

You watched him cock his head to the side, his now red eyes quickly glancing to the sides of the room, as if noting the amount of guards in the room, or looking for something. Then his eyes shot to the side, towards where you hid in the far back of the room.

The shadows should have cloaked you, no one ever saw you when you stood here. But his eyes stopped right where you stood, his eyes widening for just a moment. You swore you saw the curve of his mouth fall. It lasted all but a second before his eyes were back on Jing Yuan, the facade of pride back upon his face, like it never happened. Like he never saw you.

“He’s alive!?” You punched your bathroom mirror, tears streaming down your face as you stared at your broken reflection. Jing Yuan stood behind you, leaning against the doorway, his eyes downcast. For once his face was solemn, regretful.

You gripped the sides of the sink, gritting your teeth, trying to stop yourself from sobbing. Years of stitched up pain, of wounds you thought had healed, they all came flooding back. Like blood, the memories spilled out, swallowing all thoughts, forcing you to relive everything all over again.

“He’s alive…” Jing Yuan finally spoke, trying not to cause you more pain. “I’m sorry.”

Deep breaths did nothing to dwindle the anxiety as you turned to face him.

“How long…how long have you known?”

Jing Yuan looked up at you, mouth open, before he stopped himself. His mouth shut as he sighed and looked down at the floor. Of course he had known. All these years, your closest friend had known the love of your life was alive and kept it a secret. Your voice shook as your shoulders slumped, turning away from Jing Yuan.

“Just…just leave…please.”

He said nothing, leaving you alone in your pain. The night was filled with tears and loud sobbing, your face stained and red, eyes sore and burning.

Sleep eluded you, every time you shut your eyes, images of him filled your mind. Yingxing, your lover, now someone you barely recognized. It was impossible, a terrifying prospect, and the worst thing to happen to you now. All the healing, the years of pain…was all of it for nothing? Questions racked your mind until you were too tired to think but also too tired to sleep. And before you knew it, light filtered into your room as morning came and alongside morning, came Jing Yuan and even more bad news.

“What do you mean he escaped!?” You couldn’t help your voice rising, the exhaustion evident in your tone. Jing Yuan simply watched you struggle with the information, his eyes saddened by the pain you dealt with.

“I mean, sometime last night, he broke out of his holding cell, and we suspect he is still somewhere on the Luofu.” Jing Yuan sighed, rubbing his temples. Obviously this situation was affecting him just as badly. He was already notorious for barely getting sleep, it would be a wonder if he had even a moment of rest last night.

“Fuck…fuck…” You pulled back your hair. Everything was quickly going to shit. Jing Yuan had not only caught you up on the new status of Yingxing, who apparently now went by Blade, but also on the fact that there was probably a Stellaron on board the Luofu and that the Stellaron Hunters were involved with both incidents.

“Look, I know this isn’t an ideal situation but,” Jing Yuan sighed again before looking at you. “I’m telling you this because I don’t want you getting involved.”

“What? Why? This is literally my job!”

“Because,” Jing Yuan put his hand on your shoulder, his touch able to calm down your shivers a little bit. “Your past relationship with Ying–Blade–I don’t want you getting hurt even more…”

Your shoulders slumped and you nodded slowly. It made sense, Jing Yuan knew that everything was only causing you pain. He had your best interest in mind but…your eyebrows strewn together and your breath caught in your throat.

“Fine.” Ying Yuan was satisfied and that made the guilt a little worse. Because you knew you were lying. The nighttime was your hunting ground. And Yingxing or rather, Blade, would not run away. Not again, not without the answers you so craved.

#blade x reader #multi chap fic #fanfic #eventual smut #hsr smut #blade hsr #hsr x reader #jing yuan #blade smut

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galebrainrot2024 · 2 months

Text

GalexFemYou Boat Scene 18+

Summary: FemReaderxGale NSFW 18+ on the boat in the astral plane after you and Gale discuss the crown. Tried to be a little slower and tender in this one. Done at the request of another, thank you for the idea! :) Content: Explicit and slow piv sex, Minors DNI!

Master List | Read on Ao3

“I don’t think I deserve you at times - I told you of my ambitions, the likes of which many would baulk at - and yet, you remain at my side. Permit me to show you something, please? Indulge me - a little boat voyage, that’s all.”

Despite your hesitation, you obliged - Gale meant more than words could express and you knew you’d do whatever you needed to help him see that.

“Astra navigabimus.” As he uttered the words, you felt your consciousness and body shift, pulling away from the material plane and cast elsewhere. It was jarring and surreal, yet you kept your eyes shut, trusting Gale implicitly.

“Few mortals ever glimpse what you’re about to see,” Gale said in a husky, quiet voice as his warm hand engulfed yours. “Don’t be alarmed, I’m here with you. Open your eyes.”

You inhaled, the air around you a chilled mist. Goosebumps undulated across your skin as your eyes fluttered open, absorbing the impossible swirls of purple and blue iridescence that surrounded you. As you drift on the small wooden boat, your fingers lithely traced the air, trying to capture the gossamer fog.

You turned to Gale, his face bright and the impossible colors swirled in his dark eyes. “The outer planes… this is where gods dwell. Where they observe us from afar. Where they make play things of us.” He frowned, gesturing to the skies, “They would keep all of this from us - the power, the possibilities. They only want us to serve them, pray to them… die for them. What if we didn’t need them and welded their power instead to help ourselves in all the ways they refuse to?” Gale’s voice was thick with anticipation and delirium, “I could make that happen. I could make this illusion a reality… with you by my side.”

You froze, gripped by the possibility of what he offered. You’d be lying if you said the thought wasn’t tantalizing… yet, as he sat here before you, pleading and desperate for approval, you knew that Gale - the man before you - was enough. He would always be enough. When was the last time he’d been told that?

Had he ever been told?

“I don’t need the stars, Gale,” you laced your fingers with his and brought his palm to your lips, brushing them against the skin. “I have you.”

Your romantic gesture fell on deaf ears as Gale insisted: “Then have me, but have the best, possible version of me. The tadpole, the orb, these threats to our existence, the gods could aid us if they wished and instead they cower behind Ao. With the power of the crown, any foe would be rendered impotent, any obstacle dwarfed by our might.” Gale sighed, clutching your hands like a penitent seeking redemption. “I used to believe Mystra was worth dying for. I was wrong. You showed me how much I have to live for. With you, I forget my goddess.” Your heart thrummed violently, threatening to jump from your throat and your body instinctively began to scoot forward, craving him. “I love you. Tell me you feel the same, that you want what I want… please..” Gale’s voice broke and you leaned forward, cupping his face in your hands and rested your forehead to his.

“I love you for the man you are,” you said, brushing your lips tenderly to his and he shuddered, emitting a gentle groan. Your knees were flush to his and you moved forward, chasing the adrenaline that flowed through your veins like a raging river.

“Think of what I offer, the vastness of eternity, the Weave at our fingertips… you’d really prefer me as I am?” Gale looked into your eyes, the dark pools beseeching earnestly for your truth. Could you mean it?

“You’re everything I need you to be,” you murmured before allowing your fingers to twine into his hair, pulling him close as your lips captured his. His gentle moan ignited the blaze within you and you feel the heat between your thighs stir.

Gale returned your kiss passionately, hungrily, a man starved with disbelief that mortality would be enough. “I hope you’re right. Godly power I can live without but you - you’re everything.” His hands ran up your thighs, brushing against the soft skin and teasingly trailed closer to the source of your desire. “You put the stars to shame… let’s sit here awhile, I want to drink you in.” He brushed his tongue across your lower lip before he sought entrance, your tongues gliding together in the familiar wonton dance. He tasted faintly of earl gray and something rich - perhaps a lingering flavor of the nights meal.

Your bodies entangled with familiarity, and you felt Gale’s smirk widen against your lips. He pulled back for a moment to caress your cheek and rested his forehead to yours, “Would you be opposed to staying here a bit longer?” He murmured as his fingers traced the edge of your shirt, tickling your torso beneath. You shivered, feeling the electricity burn and you whimpered as his cool hands pulled the shirt over your head. He licked his lips as his eyes consumed you, his pupils blown wide with desire, his cheeks flushed a dark pink. You shook your head, the bitter mist shrouding you as heat swelled in your center.

Gale leaned forward, his lips brushing against the freckles that littered your shoulder and your hands trailed under his shirt, lifting. He obliged, leaning backward as you slowly pulled his shirt off. Typically, Gale and you would ravage one another if given the opportunity.

Tonight, though, felt different. You craved him tenderly, wanting each moment to be a standalone symphony. You traced the orb, how its tendrils licked up his neck and brought your lips to the pattern. He sighed, pulling you closer to him and the seats of the boat seemed to de-materialize as you and Gale stared at one another, admiring.

A plush blanket appeared beneath you and you rose a brow curiously as your fingers ran over the sensual fabric. Gale wrapped his arms around your torso to pull you into his lap. Your legs circled his waist and you cupped his face in yours, allowing your lips to meet in a supple, painfully slow kiss. You moaned as his tongue sought yours, as he slipped it into your mouth greedily, your hips rolling against his for friction. You felt the girth between his thighs stir as your hips rocked and you pressed yourself tighter to him as the kiss deepened. The carnal need grew, rooted in your core as the lustful dance began.

Gale’s lithe fingers hooked into the waist of your pants and you gasped, the iciness of his touch juxtaposing the primal heat pooling within you. He took his time unlacing your pants before pushing them unhurriedly down. His eyes flick down to your clothed sex and you heard him intake his breath sharply. Gale leaned forward, kissing you lecherously. Each move of his tongue was precise and painfully slow, and you felt your body begin to squirm impatiently. You felt him grin against your lips as he cupped your chin and pulled your face closer to his as his tongue indulged.

Your fingers clumsily worked to remove his trousers and he chuckled, “Let me lend you a hand,” he said as his fingers grazed yours. He shook out of the pants and your eyes widened as you admired the firm tent pressed against his underwear. He guided your hand, slipping it beneath his underwear and he groaned as your fingers wrapped around his arousal. He was warm, firm and you felt a surge of dripping arousal soak your underwear. He groaned as your hand circled him and began to deftly pump, matching his agonizingly steady pace. His fingers sought entrance between the cloth of your undergarments and sex and trailed along your inner thigh, right where the seam met your skin.

You mewled, grinding your hips against his, feeling his erection glide against your covered arousal. Your hand worked quicker before his hand covered yours, his breath hot and quiet as he murmured, “Let’s take our time tonight…” Your body was desperate, wanted to move with a vicious urgency yet Gale continued with such excruciating gentleness. A light brush would likely be enough to send you off the cliff.

His fingers found their way beneath your underwear and you squirmed, seeking him and friction. He chuckled darkly before slipping his fingers away, “The more impatient you are, the longer I’ll wait…” he teased and you leaned forward, biting into his neck. The sinful noise that fell from his lips sent another wave of arousal through you.

“Gale, please,” you begged, your wetness seeping from your underwear and onto his, leaving evidence of your need. Gale traced your lips with his fingers and you shivered, licking the fingers before you before pulling them into your mouth. Gale groaned, his hips bucking upwards into you as you sucked on his fingers. “Touch me,” you whimpered against his fingers and he brought his slick hand into your underwear.

“Rather needy tonight,” Gale teased again and he moaned as his fingers slipped between your folds, “Gods, how divine… how eager you are for me…” as he slid his fingers between your thighs you rolled your hips, whimpering again. His thumb circled your clit, the movements unrushed despite your protests. Gale kissed you again as you gripped his shaft, encircling him as you toyed with him, wanting to feel him inside of you. Gale, as if reading your mind, said, “Have you been patient enough?”

You shook your head, moving your hips, deprived of his fingers. You felt him slip a few into you then, stretching you slowly and massaging you. The sudden entrance made you shudder violently and your arms wrapped around his neck, your fingers pressing into his back as you moaned. You nestled your face in the crook of his neck, biting down to stifle your unholy sounds.

“No need to suppress yourself,” Gale murmured, pushing your hair back as he thrusted his fingers harder into you, forcing your body to tighten around him with arousal. “I want to hear you,” he demanded, pressing deeper into you and against the deepest source of your arousal. You cried out and bit down on his neck again.

You lifted your hips, bringing them down onto his fingers and you mumbled against his neck, “I need you, I need more…”

“Woe be it from me to deny you…” he murmured, pushing your underwear off your body and did the same to himself. He held himself for a moment, stabilizing as you brought your hips over his erection. Your hands gripped his shoulders and you gazed into his lustful, brown pools and felt him fill you. Your mouth watered as you brought yourself down deliberately only allowing the tip of him in.

He whimpered, thrusting his hips up and you pulled back, smirking. “Why the rush?” You retorted and he growled, surrendering to you. You rolled your hips before bringing yourself fully over him, allowing him to stretch you full and welcomed him into your slick cunt. You both moaned as he filled you and he thrusted into you aggressively, gripping your hips. Your lips brush against his neck, his jaw, until your tongues are tangled again and he drove into you. Your bodies moved of their own accord now, both of you desperate for release and pleasure, the sensations overwhelming. Every fiber of your being thrummed with sin and you moved quicker, pulling him deeper into you and clenching around his erection. He moaned as you did, gripping your waist tighter, using his other hand to pull your hair back and kiss you. Sweat began to cover you both as your movements became carnal, needy - your breathing jagged and unsteady as you felt yourself swell with bliss and ecstasy.

“I….” Gale moaned, the kiss sloppy and wet, “I… please…” his voice was raspy and deep as he thrusted violently into you and you cried out, begging for more, needing more. Abruptly he flipped you over so you were on your stomach, he hovering over you and pulled your hair back to kiss you. You moaned as you felt him enter you again from behind, your hips rolling backward to bring him further into you. He held your hair to steady himself, the pain from the pull overstimulating as he filled you. Your mouth was full of hot saliva and you whimpered as he grew more urgent, your bodies moving together in a steady, unholy rhythm. He pushed so hard against you that you felt a sharp pain and cried out, enough that he paused for a moment to whisper into your ear, “Are you alright?” And you nod, delirious from the pleasure, and you heard him whisper, “Come for me, then.”

You press your face into the blanket and muffle your cries as he pumps deeper, harder, and his hand wraps in front of you for his thumb to circle your clit. It’s too much. You writhed and every cell in your body seized, tensing in preperation until you heard him groan gutturally, his hot climax filling you as your own climax roiled through you. The unadulterated bliss that pulsed through you was divine, both of your bodies moving in shared harmony, in your shared symphony of pleasure. Gale collapsed onto you, his lips pressing to your ear and neck as he murmured praises, how much he loved you, how much he adored you and when your breath returned to you, you rolled onto your back, cupping his face in your hands. “Mortality has its perks..” You murmured, your eyes fluttering shut as you smirked.

Gale laughed, pulling you tighter to his chest, kissing your forehead. You settled into a comfortable silence, allowing the boat to rock you as you both marveled at how lucky you both were to have one another. “I can’t wait to explore your body a thousand more ways… eternity wouldn’t be enough for me.”

#gale smut #gale bg3 smut #gale of waterdeepthroat #gale fanfic #gale kiss #gale angst #gale fanfiction #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 #bg3 gale fanfiction #bg3 gale fanfic #gale x femreader

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camberdraws · 8 months

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I really like your art! Do you have any tips for drawing environments?

Ahhhh thank you so much!

I did some thinking before answering this ask... a lot of general drawing advice absolutely applies to creating backgrounds (such as using references, keeping perspective in mind, etc). But the #1 tool that especially helps me with environments is creating thumbnails!

I depend massively on the thumbnail process, especially for environments. I use them to resolve almost every major detail before painting the real thing! It makes it so much easier to experiment with colors, values, etc. and figure out the important stuff in your image. You want to keep them very blobby and sketchy so you aren't afraid to make big changes!

The thumbnail shown above for my shaymin drawing leaves very few questions about what the final should look like. It only took around an hour to create, and the time it saved me from making any mistakes is massive! This is especially helpful as someone who has immense trouble visualizing color schemes and has struggled numerous times trying to make color work after finishing lineart without a good thumbnail.

The more complex an environment, the more I suggest a thumbnail. Some of my recent zine pieces would have been impossible for me to complete without a detailed sketch to guide me.

Another big piece of advice, mentioned above, is USING REFERENCES! I think this is especially helpful for creating interesting and detailed backgrounds. Doing research on objects/props/scenes will enrich your drawing and make it more engaging to the viewer!

Here is an example of the reference I gathered for my lurantis+gloom drawing. I brainstormed different plants/items I thought would be fun to include with grass-type pokemon, and threw them together in a PureRef file! (I highly recommend using PureRef, it's an excellent software for making reference boards). Generally speaking, it's difficult for humans to conjure up exactly how a watering can/gardening tool/fence/flower might look like down to super specific details, so obtaining reference to fill in those gaps is essential.

Finally, advice that applies very broadly to all types of drawings: do lots of studies! Starting last year I have done 50 environment/scene studies, and they have been extremely helpful for improving my general skill and ability to compose backrounds! I can't recommend this enough to all artists!

And that's about it! I think it's easy for artists to be intimidated by drawing backgrounds, but it can be so much fun! Take it slow, do research, and create thumbnails for your drawing. And don't forget to do studies, they are good for you!

#asks #tutorial #art tutorial #drawing tutorial #environment art

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thriftingfreak · 2 months

Text

Safe Haven

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: A day in the late sun never hurt anyone.

Warnings: None! Just fluff and reader pining after Lukey Pookie.

———————————————————————

You felt the sun blazing above you, as you laid in the tall grass. Trees billowed from above and birds chirped. The warmth drew you in. It was a sweet Sunday afternoon and for once, life didn’t feel so impossible.

“Care if I join?” The sun immediately was blocked by a shadowy figure that peered over you. You opened your eyes and smiled.

“Of course you can join me Luke.”

He plopped down next to you, stretching his arms out in the grass. You both quietly understood each other but it helped knowing each other since you were 12.

You peered over at your best friend and felt your heart twinge. Luke’s eyes were closed and the breeze blew between his eyelashes and black curls. Your eyes traced the outline of his scar.

He must of felt your eyes on him because he slowly reached his fingers over, grasping your hand.

The smallest laugh escaped your lips and the war in your stomach couldn’t be halted.

“Long day?” you asked him.

“Extremely long day, Clarisse and I sparred for three hours” Luke physically grimaced at the memory.

You rolled over to face him, “Why were you sparring with Clarisse?”

Luke sighed and sat up, “She wants to be better at her swordsmanship. Which I don’t understand, she always wins anyway out of fear.”

“Maybe you and I should spar sometime” You giggled. You knew the best swordsman at camp would easily beat you but that didn’t mean you couldn’t try.

He unhooked your hand from his and started tickling you. You squealed, thrashing around trying to escape the Gods favorite son of Hermes.

The two of you rolled around the in the grass until Luke ended up on top of you, his breath hot on your face. Your mind flashed to the scene from Star Wars: Episode II when Anakin and Padme rolled around in the fields of Naboo. You couldn’t stand to look him in the eye or you think you’d burst into flames. So you focused on the necklace hanging from his neck and the countless camp beads he had acquired. You counted the five before your eyes darted to how the bright orange shirt stuck to his body, drenched in sweat.

Moments felt like ages as he hung over you. Building up the courage, you finally looked him in his eyes and almost immediately the boy smiled at you.

“Have you seen Star Wars?” you asked.

Luke nodded slowly, one eye brow raised, “Are you saying I’m Anakin?”

“Well technically you’re Padme since you’re above me.”

Luke paused for a moment and leaned down close to your face.

“I haven’t seen Star Wars in a long time. Did this happen in it too?”

Before you could blink, Luke got as close as he possibly could and your breath hitched. The pounding in your chest increased as he tilt his head to the side. His lips pressed to yours slowly and you knew these lips would be your safe haven. Luke’s lips were dry after a long day but it would never be a problem to you. Everyone says that when you kiss someone you’re in love with, it feels like fireworks or an explosion but for you it was like soft rain in the middle of July. He tasted like your favorite color and for once in your life you felt like you were in another universe. It was unexplainable and dare you say perfect. Demigods never had room for perfection.

Even with all the monsters in the universe hunting you two down, you two would be exactly like soft rain in July.

#luke castellan x reader #pjo #luke castellan #percy jackson

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greatlydelirious · 1 year

Text

𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞

Kratos x F!Reader

wordcount: 4.1k words

summary: Two lost souls find comfort in each other’s company.

warnings: slow-burn, falling in love, angst, fluff, bedsharing, lore heavy

a/n: This is a teaser of a scene between the reader and Kratos in the giant fic, “Of Gods and Men” that I’m writing. This is my “proof of concept” for you guys that I’m actually working on it. (The reader is OC in regards to some characteristics, but skin color is not specified.)

“…There is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of Longing, the lover’s whisper, irresistible—magic to make the sanest man go mad.” - Homer, The Iliad

Voices ignite like fueled flames outside Kratos’s bedroom as someone enters Sindri’s home. Not just anyone can stir up that much ruckus though. The arrival of Kratos always elicited a flurry of questions and action. Despite your want to check on the god you don’t move from your supine position on the hard bed.

You continue to count the cracks in the ceiling above as if the number you came up with would unearth some deep truth within yourself. Time became a foreign concept as you tried to convince your body to relax. Sleep is elusive to you despite your mind’s craving for rest. Sindri told you, just as he did Atreus, that sleeping would make all the troubles of your mind work themselves out. Easier said than done.

That’s how you find yourself on a bed that’s not yours. One that you’ve only slept in once but couldn’t forget the feeling of. The furs below smell of him, earthy with notes of smoke and musk that remind you of the lush jungles in your home realm of Vanaheim.

Home.

It had been centuries since the last time you felt the security of such an ideal. To the dismay of your fickle heart, you felt that sense of contentment that comes with being home merely weeks ago in the arms of another. Someone you tried to remind yourself you couldn’t have. Someone who, like you, made a pact to never let themselves be kept in mind or body to another again.

It’s strange how night devolved hardened hearts into feeling such soft vulnerability. Memories have a way of burrowing deep in the brains of even those who try to forget. You’re sitting at the dining table in front of the roaring furnace. The warmth doesn’t completely stave off the coldness that stems from more than just the weather.

Sindri’s home is filled with a rare stillness, but it only works to grate on your nerves rather than bring you peace. Solace is nearly impossible to find in a world full of gods and men. Throw in the endless monsters and magic, and the notion is nothing but a fantasy for the whimsical. That you are not.

Your head darts up when a large shadow appears across the table. Wood groans as Kratos settles in the seat. It’s not often that the two of you get to sit in each other’s company alone without having other things on your mind like hunting or survival. The gripes of being a god and goddess in the opposition to the All-Father are endless.

“Can’t sleep either?”

Kratos grunts in response as he reaches for the pitcher of mead abandoned in the middle of the table. He fills the large tankard next to it to the brim before putting the pitcher back down with a weighty thump. You watch transfixed as Kratos’s adam’s apple bobs with each pull he takes from the cup.

The veins in his neck bulge and when some droplets of mead spill from the corners of his mouth, you can’t help but trail their path down his beard. For a moment you forget what was keeping you up in the first place.

“Something troubles you.”

A statement, not a question.

“I’m fine, Kratos. My woes matter not.” You feign indifference as you lean back in your chair, like his notice of your mood doesn’t make your heart leap in your chest.

Kratos leans forward, his hulking form hovering over some of the table, “Speak the truth, woman.” The word woman comes out in a growl, lingering with a threat that would never be followed through. Yet, it’s still effective enough to make you give in.

Your eyes move to focus on the expertly crafted wooden surface under your hands. Calmness is common nature for you, but something about Kratos’s piercing gaze makes you fumble to find words. Dryness coats your mouth as if your body was cursed to not utter your torment.

“I had a twin sister once. Her name was Hnoss, everyone always said we were identical, but I still think she was prettier. She…”

When your voice begins to crack you stop. Emotions you’ve suppressed for hundreds of years come bubbling to the surface. Thinking about your sister was one thing, but voicing it out loud made it all too real again. Like she’s not what haunts your dreams, but the young girl you once played in ponds and climbed trees with.

“Go on.”

The earnestness makes you chance a glance up. A small, sad smile curves your lips at the sight of Kratos’s focus trained on you. He may not say much, but he always listened. No wonder Mimir didn’t mind being stuck with the man.

“She often went to Bifröst, a rainbow bridge that reaches between Midgard and Asgard, hoping to run into our father. People predicted that Hnoss would reunite our parents. Alas, hope is not always enough to alter reality.”

Kratos slides his tankard toward you, giving you a moment of reprieve without a word. Picking it up, you swirl the amber ale with a twinge of bitterness. Normally you would say gods made pitiful fathers. That was until you met Kratos and Atreus.

The god makes a habit of surpassing expectations.

Sending a quick prayer to the lost goddess mother of Vanaheim you take a giant swig of the mead. Soft notes of bready malt accompany aromatics with a musty, oaky finish coats your tongue. A clicking noise escaped through your teeth as you cringe at the overpowering taste.

The sound of Kratos humming in approval grounds you from your wandering thoughts. You nod at him in appreciation before taking a steadying breath and continuing,

“During her visits, there was a god by the name of Heimdall who kept watch over the rainbow bridge that would entertain her with stories of old and new. One day he revealed to Hnoss that he possessed night vision and never slept. He also claimed to have existed since the beginning of time and told her tales about the creation of various things.

While our father remained absent, Hnoss was taken to Baldur's Stead to comfort her in her sorrow since it was believed to be a place where healing occurred. Baldur’s wife Nanna would often cradle her during these times of profound need. One time in particular, with Nanna by her side, Hnoss shared a strange dream she had about Queen Hela, a queen who was half living woman and half corpse. In her dream, Hela entered Asgard and declared ‘A lord of the Aesir I must have to dwell with me in my realm beneath the earth.’ Hnoss was paralyzed by fear after experiencing this dream.”

You take another swig from the tankard before handing it back to Kratos. Obsidian eyes stay locked on you as their owner downs the rest of its contents.

“What happened to your sister?”

“Hnoss was never the same after that. They say that those who use seidr magic will eventually succumb to the evils of its art. Unfortunately for her, it was true. Similar to Baldur, she died a needless death.”

And just like all of the Vanir people. Many of their lives were taken by the power-hungry Aesir for no other reason than greed. Peace in these realms always comes at a price.

“So that’s why I’m troubled, Kratos. Now my own dreams are filled by her. No matter how hard I try to forget.”

Kratos hums in acknowledgment, “I too know the pain of losing a sibling.”

Comfortable silence hangs between the two of you for a couple of minutes. The time is filled with unspoken understanding lined with a sense of melancholy.

“Drink.”

Kratos seems to present a bottle of wine out of nowhere but you don’t hesitate to accept it. Not even gods are above drinking their sorrows away. Another pitcher of mead and bottle of wine later and you’re drunk. Loose-lipped, fumbled-word, soft-legged drunk.

You’re currently giggling like a fool as you lean against the bedroom door simply staring at Kratos while he sits on his bed. When you started to create too much of a ruckus in the living room he took into his room since you refused to leave his side. You’d slap yourself in the forehead for that fact the following days later.

“Come.”

Your feet move before your mind can fully process the command. It’s as if your body is compelled to obey him without hesitation. The idea goes against everything you stand for. You ran from the one home you’d ever known and the one man that ever truly loved you, because of your refusal to submit to any man or god. Thankfully, the mead-fueled haze creeping into your brain keeps you from spiraling any further.

Kratos tilts his head to look up at you as you stand between his thick legs. A lazy smile spreads across your face and before you can think you lift your hand to cup his cheek. Although he captures your wrist, he doesn’t pry you away. Tentatively, your thumb rubs small circles into the rough flesh.

For a moment he indulges in your touch, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. You smell like vanilla with a citrus charge of tangerine and cinnamon. Something tantalizingly sweet, forbidden.

A rumbling noise emanates from Kratos’s chest when your thumb ghosts along the scar on his right eye. You wonder how he got the nasty slice. What god put it there many years ago. Unfortunately, Kratos is still a mystery to you. Bits and pieces of his life are shared sparingly through short stories during long journeys, but nothing else beyond that.

Nothing else beyond that. The four words ring in your ears. What are you doing? It’s not your right to be in his room, near his bed, and touching him of all things. You are companions, sure. Friends? Maybe. But partners? Nothing of the sort.

Any semblance of tipsiness you had quickly evaporates, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“ You stop when Kratos brings his other hand to your hip, squeezing lightly.

“No need to explain. Not to me.”

Your hand drops when he moves to lay on his side on the bed. Kratos scoots back until his back is against the wall.

“Lay.”

When you hesitate, he pats the small space in front of him in an almost comedic fashion due to his large size, “Lay, agápi”

The word he calls you is spoken in a language you’ve never heard before, but he says it with such tenderness that it makes you slide into the bed. You start to think you’ve been sleeping this whole time when Kratos wraps a thick arm around your waist to pull you flush against his front. After three years of pining, you’re in the arms of the man you admired. The sudden realization is almost too much.

“Will you tell me a story from your homeland?”

Kratos’s silence at your abrupt question makes you huff out a laugh. Butterflies were swarming in your belly and if you didn’t do something about them you would never fall asleep.

Was it childish for you to ask for a bedtime story? Perhaps. But this might be the last time you get to have Kratos to yourself like this. You gently nudge him with your leg. It doesn’t even slightly jostle the mountain of a man, but it does keep his attention.

“Come on! An old man like yourself must know hundreds.”

After a beat, Kratos sounds almost bashful if that emotion was even possible for the god, “There’s this… poem.”

“What’s it about?

“A cunning general and a war over forbidden love.”

Ironic.

“Is it based on truth?”

“Yes, but I prefer the poem.”

You giggle at the displeasure lacing his tone.

“Can you recite a line for me?”

Kratos grunts at the way your tired eyes have you looking at him through your lashes. You’re the picture of innocence and natural beauty. It stirs something inside him that’s laid dormant for years. He would say Aphrodite’s beauty paled in comparison to yours, but you’re more than that. You’re a beauty beyond comparison wrapped in a warm light.

“I wish that strife would vanish away from among gods and mortals, and gall, which makes a man grow angry for all his great mind, that gall of anger that swarms like smoke inside of a man's heart and becomes a thing sweeter to him by far than the dripping of honey.”

You twist your head to the side to look back at Kratos. The darkness in the room keeps his features hidden yet you still can’t help but smile. A truly genuine, happy smile despite the small crookedness from your drunken state.

“Wow… I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you say in one breath. Didn’t think you were one for lovely words.”

Kratos makes a low noise in his throat, contemplating for a moment if letting you in his room, in his bed, was really a good idea. When you suddenly snuggle back into his front, he doesn’t move a muscle. Your soft and warm against the hard expanse of his chest. The word “comforting” comes to the forefront of his mind but he tries his best to suppress the feeling.

Only to fail when you open your mouth again.

“The totality of emotions can either make or break a man. Let them in, Kratos.” Your voice oozes drowsiness encompassed by a softness you saved for his son Atreus. It’s an inflection filled with sweet sincerity and motherly care.

When a light snore reaches his ears, Kratos looks down at your face. You’re already sound asleep. His arms tighten a fraction before letting himself close his eyes. He told himself it was just for a night.

It’s never that simple.

For long seconds after you woke up the next morning you took in the sleeping man’s face. His features were free of stressed lines and his usual frown. Kratos looked even more handsome under the lull of sleep.

His arms were secured around you like a lifeline. It wasn’t a lover’s embrace, but the comfort of another person’s body aiding you both into a dreamless sleep. Although, it would be a lie if you said your heart didn’t flutter when you woke up to his face buried in your neck, the scruff of his beard making your skin prickle and heat.

You managed to slip out of the bed without waking the beast of a man. A feat when he held you so tight. When you made it to the door you chanced one more look back at Kratos, a heaviness settling inside you. For days you’ll blame your abrupt intimacy on you both drinking, but it would take oceans of alcohol to muddy the god’s mind.

Kratos never said anything about that night; never said that you helped him have the first truly peaceful sleep in his lifetime.

The sane part of your brain is cursing you for laying in Kratos’s bed like a loyal dog waiting for its master. Especially when he gave you no inkling that your presence was wanted. You’re so lost in your thoughts that you flinch when the door opens.

Kratos doesn’t falter at your uninvited presence as he shuts the bedroom door with a heavy sigh. You sit up on his bed as he takes off his armor with rough hands, letting the items loudly clank to the floor with little care. The blades go first, then his cuffs, and the axe.

Concern fills you at his sullen state. Emotions can only be bottled up for so long and Kratos was an expert at doing just that. You know he doesn’t want your help, but he needed it more than he’ll ever admit.

“You carry your burdens with you in mind and hand.” Your eyes trail to his Blades of Chaos on the floor. They act as physical reminders of the pain and suffering he caused not only strangers and gods, but the ones he loved the most.

“What do you know of carrying burdens?” His voice is gruff, but not fueled with malice.

“Don’t you remember that night?”

Guilt washes over Kratos’s features as remembrance dawns on him. The furrow of his brows and the twitch of his jaw is evidence enough. Sighing, you scoot to the edge of the bed, “I will not claim to understand your suffering Kratos, but I do know what it means to be lost. To follow your path while being confused as to why you must. To wonder why you get to live when they don’t.”

Kratos’s shoulders are visibly tense as you stare up at him. Standing up, an idea pops into your head that is so outlandish that you whisper it in hopes that he doesn’t completely hear it.

“For just one night give your burdens to me. Let me take care of you, Kratos. Someone needs to. Let that someone be me.”

A part of you doesn’t think but knows he will reject you. Especially when those eyes filled with shadows stare at yours unblinking and unwavering in their passivity. Who were you to ask for something so personal?

A love-sick fool, that’s who.

Every fiber of your being is pulled toward Kratos, but that doesn’t mean the feeling is mutual. Dejection washes over you at your boldness fueled by foolish hope. Right when you’re going to walk away, Kratos clears his throat.

“Okay.”

You blink at him like a small child would at the sight of a giant bear. Odin himself must have been playing a trick on you because you can’t believe that Kratos just accepted your proposition. For a solid minute, you stay standing with your chests inches apart.

Heat blooms in your cheeks as you become acutely aware of your closeness. Every deep breath he takes causes his taut stomach to brush against you. Your neck starts to feel the strain of having to crane back to make eye contact with him.

“Do I need to speak in even simpler words?” Kratos’s deep voice snaps you out of your gawking. Never had a man made you feel like a mere mortal; let alone make you like the idea of being overpowered.

“I-“ You clear your throat, finally letting the air dense with an unspoken tension fill your lungs, “N-no.”

Unconsciously, you rub your hands on your trousers and take a deep breath to steady yourself. “Sit on the bed.”

Kratos follows your command without question. Carefully, you crawl behind him on the bed and prop yourself on your knees. The skin under your hands tenses when you bring them up to rest on his shoulders.

“Relax. I mean you no harm. I swear.”

Your voice is just above a whisper and laced with sincerity. You begin to knead the endless knots that harden Kratos’s shoulders. The endless burdens he carries on his back would crush any mortal. When Kratos lets out a satisfied groan you have to bite your lip to stifle out a noise of your own.

Now’s not the time to start frothing at the mouth.

Instead of letting yourself turn into a pathetic puddle of suppressed desire, you opt to continue your efforts to comfort.

“We will get to Asgard. Atreus was raised by a strong man. I know he is doing more than fine.”

“A strong man perhaps, but not a noble one.”

Your thumbs travel down to press into the rigid flesh of his shoulder blades while you scoff.

“What does it mean to be noble? You are strong, courageous, watchful, full of wisdom, and give astute instruction. Those are very noble traits.”

Kratos shakes his head, “You do not know the extent of my sins.”

You sigh at the persistence of his inadequacy. How could he not see that his obvious guilt was the biggest indicator of his good heart? Your hands move to his bulky chest to lightly rub the muscles.

“We are more than the sum of our parts, Kratos. Bad deeds cannot be undone, but what we do after is what matters most. We must be better, work harder, and do whatever it takes to keep the realms from falling into chaos.”

At your words, Kratos takes hold of your wrists, “Where did you hear that?”

“I heard that from centuries of living. From reaching the lowest I could possibly go and coming out of it stronger than I was before.”

You move so you’re next to his side and only hesitate for a fraction of a second before you bring a hand to his cheek. Kratos doesn’t resist as you turn his head with the gentle guidance of your palm. Instinctively your thumb gently rubs back and forth against his rough flesh. The gesture feels different than the last time. It’s more intimate, rawer.

“You’re a good man, father, and friend, but if you continue to let the past dictate your future you will never see that for yourself.” You bring your other hand up to rest on the middle of his chest, “Open your heart. I promise it will only serve to make you stronger, not weaker.”

The way Kratos is looking into your eyes leaves you breathless. It’s almost like he’s seeing you for the first time. Not your outward appearance, but the depths of your soul.

Unlike usual, the silence that fills the room is stifling. So much so that your skin begins to heat, a humid tension that rivals Vanaheim hanging in the air. Maybe you said too much. Maybe you’re silly for spewing your opinions to a man who didn’t ask for them. Maybe this is what it feels like to love someone that’s out of your grasp.

Dejected by your imprudence you leave him with one last thought, “The totality of emotions can either make or break a man. What will it do to you?”

When you try to climb off the bed, one of Kratos’s hands shoots out to grab your bicep.

“Where are you going, woman.”

His voice is deep and reminds you of the forcefulness of booming thunder. One that shakes you more than Thor could ever make. Swallowing thickly, you advert your eyes to the ground, “I don’t want to disturb you any further.”

“Stay.”

Without another word, you let Kratos slowly pull you down on the bed. Half of your body lays on him as he rests his chin on your head. He feels safe and solid, protecting and proud. If only he can see what you see. If only he can feel what you feel.

You let yourself indulge in being in Kratos’s arms just like before and close your eyes. In seconds your body relaxes. Exhaustion mixed with the tidal wave of emotions you’ve gone through makes the perfect sedative.

Kratos watches your breathing slow as you go lax on his chest. He can’t help but admire you in the secrecy of your sleep.

The light shining through the window casts a glowing effect on your long locks, making it seem as though a halo is over your head. Your hair reminds him of the sunsets in Sparta, golden and awe-inspiring. More than that you remind him of that comforting feeling that comes with being where one belongs.

Home.

When Kratos grunts at the absurdity of his thoughts, the noise causes your leg around his hip to tighten. He carefully traces your spine with the tips of his thick fingers. You’re so small and fragile in his hold, like a mouse cuddling in a bear’s den during a frigid winter despite the looming danger.

You’re unlike any goddess he’s met before; calm, kind of heart, strong, and free from the chains of greed that comes with a being with that kind of power. You told Kratos to open his heart and be better for the future. Only one other woman told him those exact words.

“The culmination of love is grief. And yet we love despite the inevitable; we open our hearts to it. To grieve deeply is to have loved fully. Open your heart to the world as you have opened it to me and you will find every reason to keep living in it.”

An epiphany hits Kratos so hard that it causes him to hold you tighter to his chest.

You’re something to live for.

Any and all interactions are greatly appreciated.

greek translation: agápi = love

#kratos x reader #god of war x reader #god of war ragnorak #god of war #kratos #delirious masterlist

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