#why would he be so tender with her? she hates that she let herself have feelings for him. hates that she's in love with a man who might not | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sp0o0kylights · 4 months

Text

Steve’s mother was the black sheep of her family.

Stella hated the snow, and the isolation of the small town she grew up in. Hated the bright colors, and sheer friendliness of the neighbors. How everyone was always involved in each other’s business, at all times--and how getting involved meant sharing.

Giving up your time for the greater good.

‘We’re one big family!’ Her father had told her, and hadn’t understood why she found the concept utterly revolting.

Just like she couldn’t understand why they never agreed with her ideas. Things would run so much more smoothly with more rules, better regulations. They didn’t need to rely on magic when they had spreadsheets.

Who cared if some people were upset? If some of the workers where put out of jobs, or “hurt” by her changes?

That was how evolution worked.

The strongest survived, and the business world demanded only the strongest of leaders.

She didn’t regret leaving.

Didn’t look behind her for a second, all too happy to go to college and find herself a rich man to make miserable.

Even had a child, though they were never her favorite things. Her Steven of course, would be so much different from the children she’d grown up among or the ones she helped oversee for her father's work.

He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t shriek or scream or make demands of busy adults. Steven would know his place, and he would stay in it until he had grown into a reasonable adult.

No unrealistic expectations, not from her son.

And absolutely, 100%, no magic.

(Unfortunately for Stella Harrington and her relationship with her son, magic does not obey the whims of one person.

Particularly not that kind of magic, one far older than Stella could comprehend.)

See: Steve knew where he came from. Would never say it of course, outright refused to put a name to it.

Knew better, even when he was young, than to speak it aloud.

Though his mother had long abandoned any powers given to her, Steve was still born with his. When lonely, he often found he could wander into a different kind of woods.

One absolutely covered in snow.

Steve should have been cold in those woods, but he never was, not even the first time he stumbled into them at the tender age of seven.

These trees never scared him. Not like the ones in his backyard sometimes did.

The whole place felt rather welcoming in a way his own house had never been, and as Steve had stumbled along following the faint glow of lights, he found himself feeling more relaxed.

Happy.

Even at seven, Steve was smart enough to know he needed to turn back, after a while. That his mother would be furious with him if he caused her to miss the meeting she needed to go to.

That he had a responsibility to be where she put him.

He hadn’t crested the hill yet. Hadn’t quite figured out where the glow was coming from, when he realized he needed to go home--but his trip wasn’t wasted.

A baby reindeer distracted him.

It peeked around a tree, and upon seeing him, came dashing his way.

Steve should be scared, would have been scared, but something in him told him this creature was his friend. He held out his hands and greeted it as such.

He was right.

A few more little reindeer came up over the hill, running around him, and together he played what felt like a game as he walked back in the direction he thought his house lay.

Said his goodbyes when the snow started to wane and made promises to return.

Found, sadly, that he wouldn’t get another chance too for almost a full year. He was too busy, signed up for multiple sports, handed over to tutors and taught life skills by a parade of nannies, none of whom ever stayed for long.

He dreamed of the snow.

The gentle way the woods felt.

It was what made him tell the lie that let him go back.

Steve was eight by then, and smart to how his parents and nannies worked. That some of them overlapped their stays when his parents went away.

So it was easy to tell Mary that she could go.

That it was okay, really. Carla had just called, she was on her way.

Just like it was easy to tell Carla that his parents' plans had changed. Let her know she wasn’t needed after all.

What harm would it do if he was alone for a night? His father kept telling him he was a big boy. Soon he’d be on his own anyway.

The snow found him faster this time, when he went for his walk in the woods.

Delighted, Steve kept an eye out for the reindeer, fingers skittering across tree bark as he looked around, once again tracking the soft glow that came up over the hill.

It was a long walk to that light, but Steve didn’t mind.

Not until he heard the crying.

“Hello?” Steve called, voice prim and proper as always. It was a little high--Tommy teased him endlessly about it, but he had been assured it would deepen.

The crying didn’t stop, but things got quiet for a moment, in the way that happens when someone was trying hard not to be found.

(Steve knew exactly how that felt, not wanting to be found. Wanting to cry for a moment, without someone telling you to toughen up, be a man, ‘God Steven you’re too old for all this--’)

“It’s okay!” Steve rushed out, trying to locate where the muffled sounds were coming from before they ran away. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise!”

Which is right about when he almost tripped over the other kid.

He was hunched against a tree, knees drawn into his chest with brown hair hanging into his eyes. His clothes were a odd--a little like how his teacher had made Steve dress when they’d done a play about the middle ages.

“Who’re you?” The boy asked defensively, wiping his nose with his sleeve.

“I’m Steve.” He said, before kneeling down himself. “Did you get hurt?”

“No.” The boy sniffled. After a moment he added; “M’ Eddie.”

His eyes were large, and reminded Steve of a puppy he once saw. All cute and round and shiny.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.” The boy said and it wasn’t an accusation, but it wasn’t friendly.

“I’m not from around here.” Steve told him. “At least, I don’t think I am.”

It was kind of hard to know, given Steve wasn’t sure where here was, exactly--and absolutely knew better than to ask his parents.

“Well then you should go home.” The boy sniffled again.

Steve wasn't put off by it. Tommy had been a lot meaner than this after all, when they'd first met.

Given their parents made them play together anyways, Steve felt he he could get this kid to like him too.

"I'm gonna, later. I'm looking for something right now though--you wanna come?"

Which he felt was a pretty nice offer. Might distract Eddie from whatever was bothering him.

(Steve liked distractions, when he was upset. It made it a lot easier to swallow down the bad feelings.)

“You shouldn’t hang around me.” Eddie said suddenly. His nose was as red as his eyes, and he refused to look Steve in the eye as he hunched further into himself. “I’m bad.”

“You’re not bad.” Steve told him.

He got a glare for it.

“How would you know?”

“I dunno.” Steve stopped, brows furrowing in thought. “I just--kinda do. I always have.”

Which was true. Steve was awfully good at identifying who was good and who was bad, from adults to his fellow classmates. It had gotten him in trouble before his mother had sat him down, and told him he just had a good business sense.

That he needed to keep to himself who was good and who was bad, especially the adults, because it wasn’t his place to say such things.

(‘But it’ll serve you well in the future.’ His mother told him, tucking an errant strand of hair back behind his ear. ‘Particularly for business deals.’)

“Well you’re wrong then, because I was born bad.” Eddie scoffed, arms crossing over his chest. “Everyone says so!”

It was dramatic as hell, and Steve couldn’t help the giggle that escaped him.

“I’m sorry!” He said immediately, when Eddie’s face flushed angrily. “I’m sorry it’s just--you look kinda silly.”

He mimed Eddie’s stance for a moment, including a dramatic little huff of breath. It unbalanced him, and Steve ended up dropping on his butt, which made him to laugh even louder.

“No one who does that can be bad.” He said finally, through the giggles.

“That’s--stupid. You’re stupid.” Eddie said, except he was clearly trying to hide his own laugh at Steve’s antics.

“I’m not stupid--and you’re not bad. I promise.” Steve said, before reaching out a hand, one pinkie extended. “I’ll swear on it.”

“What’re you doing?” Eddie asked him, but he didn’t sound sad now. More curious.

Curious Steve knew, was a lot better than sad.

“You wrap your pinkie finger with mine. Then it’s a pinkie swear, which is like--unbreakable!”

That’s what Carol had told him at least, and so far it had held true. Steve figured it must work doubly so, in a place like this.

Cautiously, Eddie reached out, entwining his pinkie with Steve’s. Like any minute Steve would snatch his hand back, and tell him it was all a joke.

Instead, Steve bobbed their hands up and down once, before letting go and asking; “Do you wanna go find that light with me? I wanna see what it is.”

He pointed up the hill, toward the glow that had haunted his dreams.”

“Oh that’s boring.“ Eddie told him, but he had a grin on his face that felt infectious. “It’s just the town. I’ll show you something way better!”

“Yeah?” Steve asked, and let Eddie snatch his wrist, launching to his feet and bringing Steve with him.

In doing so his hair blew, revealing that he had pointed ears.

Steve stared at them in awe as Eddie tugged him further into the trees, until they burst into a clearing filled with gingerbread houses. They ranged from teeny tiny, to large enough that Steve and Eddie could walk in them, and it wasn’t long before the two started a game of tag, broken only by laughter.

In retrospect, this was his downfall.

Because the little gingerbread houses were really cool, and Eddie was a lot of fun. It was easy to play with him--like the two of them had been made for each other.

Steve had never connected like this with a person before. Never had so much fun with someone before.

Not even with Tommy and Carol, his very best friends.

Eddie seemed to feel the same way, and not even an hour into meeting him, Steve knew he would remember this for the rest of his life.

Remember Eddie.

Steve ended up losing track of time. Stayed so long that his lie was discovered.

The person who came looking for him wasn’t his parents, but looked weirdly like his mom--if his mom were a boy.

He introduced himself as Steve’s Uncle Nick after he called the two boys to him, hands on his hips in a way Steve kind of wanted to mimic.

Steve knew it to be true, in the same way he knew how to find the forest, and if someone was good or bad. A feeling inside him he could tap into, warm and fuzzy in a way that, should he ever be pressed, he might admit to feeling like magic.

“Now how did you get here?” Uncle Nick asked him, like Steve's presence was a surprising little puzzle.

Knowing better than to lie, sensing that his Uncle would be able to tell if he did anyways, Steve told him the truth.

It got him exactly what he expected, which was an upset adult.

Unlike his mom or dad however, his Uncle didn’t yell at him, or grab Steve’s hand in a punishing grip. No nails dug into his skin, no harsh words were hissed. Uncle Nick simply pinched the tip of his nose, before giving a sigh that shook his massive frame.

“Your mom is going to be very upset.” He said finally.

Like Steve didn't know.

“I just wanted to see the lights.”

“The lights--oh.” Uncle Nick glanced over his shoulder. “Could you see them from your house?”

Steve shook his head.

“No but I could feel them.”

Like a pulse in his chest. A compass, or--a guide.

“He says he can tell who's naughty or nice.” Eddie chimed in, oddly quiet for how loud he had been. “He says I’m good.”

This was said as a challenge, and Steve eyed his new friend out of the corner of his eye. He’d never dared speak to an adult like that, and was both a little in awe of Eddie doing it, and afraid for him.

Something his Uncle seemed to sense.

“Edward, go home.” He said, firm but kind. Not like how Steve's mom was when she was mad, or his dad when he had a bad day at work.“I’ll come talk to you later. Come on Steve, let me walk you back. I best explain this in person.”

Then he took Steve’s hand in his, while Steve called out a goodbye to Eddie over his shoulder.

“You’ll come back and visit, right!?” Eddie yelled back.

Steve shouted an affirmative, even knowing it wasn’t likely he’d be allowed.

(Wished with all his heart, that he'd be allowed.)

“Eddie is really good, you know.” Steve said once he no longer could see his new friend, because it felt important to tell his Uncle that. Necessary, for some reason.

“I know.” Uncle Nick replied gently. “But let’s not worry about him right now, okay?”

“Okay.”

Then they were back in Steve’s woods, the ones that were sometimes unfriendly. In his backyard, and up to the door, and even from here Steve could hear his mother and father screaming at each other, in a tone that made his stomach curl.

“Come on kiddo. Time to face the music.” Uncle Nick told him, and Steve found he really didn’t want to let go of his Uncle’s hand.

He did though.

He was a big boy, and well trained. He didn’t flinch from his parents. Didn’t disobey when his mother demanded he tell her exactly how he got to the fun place, with all the snow--and listened further still when she demanded Uncle Nick take it out of him.

Take what Steve didn’t know--not until his Uncle lost the argument.

Reached into Steve’s chest and did something to him, something that killed that warm and fuzzy thing that had always lived inside Steve.

He cried harder than he ever had before that night. Cried and begged for Uncle Nick to put it back, that he was sorry and he wouldn’t ever use it again if they just let him keep it.

(He promised, he promised, he promised-!)

Sank to his knees and told his parents that it hurt.

They didn't listen, and they didn't put it back.

His father told him to get up off the floor, and then pulled him up when Steve found he couldn’t.

Hauled him to his room, even as his Uncle warned his mother that he couldn’t get rid of it. That he could only suppress it, the same way she suppressed hers, but those words didn’t really matter to Steve just then.

Not when he was hurting, and tired, and found himself wishing for his new friend.

(His mother told him he’d feel better in time.

Steve never did.)

xXx

The hole in Steve’s chest had never filled.

It kept him up at night. The yearning for something just out of reach, tormenting him with a feeling of being hollow.

He didn’t know how his mother could stand it.

Steve stopped fussing about it though--or rather, he stopped the first time his father had slapped him over his complaining.

“Enough, Steven! You’re perfectly fine. Now start acting like it, for fucks sake!” He’d roared, and shocked as he was, Steve had still done what he’d been taught to do.

Toughed it out. Sucked it up. Got over it.

Dumped his entire life into basketball and swimming and other parent-approved activities, even if he felt empty.

He was eight, then ten, then fourteen and soon Steve wasn’t healed, but he'd adjusted.

Got aloof to the pain as his popularity skyrocketed, and his parents left him on his own while they chased the almighty dollar.

(Secretly, Steve tried to fill the void in his heart with parties and people, alcohol and even the occasional drug, though most just left him feeling worse than before.

It was perhaps how he ended up acting as he did.

Turning from the sweet boy who was always helping others, to someone who was fast with their insults. Popularity was a sharks game, and though he refused to participate in the bullying his friends enjoyed, he made sure everyone knew who the biggest fish in the pond was.

Because the hole was always there, in the back of his mind. The thing inside him that was missing, that made him crave the snow, and the lights, and the boy with pointy ears.

He might be able to force himself to forget about all of that, if only the hole in his heart would allow him.)

xXx

Five days before his fifteenth birthday, some random guy showed up in Steve’s yard.

This wasn’t unusual--Steve invited a lot of people over.

Tommy and Carol both had a standing invitation to use his pool and Steve often used it to curry favor with the upperclassmen--but even underwater, Steve didn’t recognize the teenager leaning over to watch him swim.

Plus it was a little weird for someone to pop up on a Sunday.

Refusing to be intimidated, Steve surfaced right under the guy, head whipping up to make sure he splashed him in the face.

Laughed as the other guy sputtered.

“Can I help you man?” Steve drawled, hooking his arms on the lip of the pool.

“I’m looking for someone. Steve Harrington?” The guy told him, glaring as he wiped water off his face.

His hair just touched his shoulders, in that awkward stage of growing out that made him look like a pageboy.

Steve tucked that little observation away for later, in case he needed it.

“Congratulations, you found me.” He said, eyeing him over.

Black jeans with holes in the knees, wallet chain and a black shirt with a faded logo of some band Steve had never heard of proudly displayed. A checkered plaid shirt topped the whole outfit, with a red guitar pick dangling around his neck from a chain.

Like the guy thought he was some kind of rockstar, and not in bumfuck Indiana.

Steve raised an eyebrow.

“Though I think you’re in the wrong place. The audition for the new town jester is being held at the high school.”

He got a frown, like the guy knew he was being insulted but didn’t quite want to believe it. “I’m not here for an audition.”

“You sure? Cause you’re definitely dressed the part.”

“Okay, you are definitely not Steve.” He said, arms crossing his chest. He had a ring on each hand, catching the light as he clutched at his arms. “Steve wasn’t this much of a dick.”

Which wasn’t the first time Steve had been called out for his behavior--but it had never been by the people he was supposed to care about.

Those people, the people his parents liked?

They loved it.

“Times change.” Steve told the stranger. Kept his tone light and playful, the way that always made girls giggle at him and guy’s listen.

Well the ones he wasn’t making fun of, anyways.

“People do too.”

He rearranged himself, planting both palms flat against the concrete, bouncing once to build energy before rocketing out of the water.

Stood, and watched with interest as the new guy’s eyes raked over his naked torso, before his whole face flushed red.

How he looked away, like he suddenly couldn’t bare to look at Steve.

“You shouldn't have changed that much.” He muttered, but Steve already had his number.

"Why were you looking for me anyway?” Steve asked as he went and grabbed a towel. Wrapped it around his waist, but kept his upper body shirtless.

Idly scratched at his hip and watched as the guy acted like Steve had practically stripped naked in front of him.

Weirdly enjoyed the little spark it gave him, to watch this guy appear so affected by his bare chest.

Defensive, the stranger bit out; “We were friends. I haven’t seen him in a long time, I was just checking up on him.”

That made Steve pause.

Really look over the guy standing before him.

The fidgeting, the blushing, the way he avoided Steve’s gaze.

He opened his mouth, an odd urge to draw this out guiding him when the hole in his chest pulsed.

Like a convulsion, a miniature seizure that took Steve entirely by surprise.

It had been a long time since it had done that, long enough to throw Steve off his game.

Make him feel unsafe, unmoored.

Abandoned.

“Yeah?” He wheezed, before covering himself and the flood of wrong/want/need with a harsh cough. “Well now I know you’re definitely barking up the wrong tree. I’d never be friends with a fucking queer.”

At that, the guy’s mouth dropped open, head whipping around to stare at Steve in shock.

"Don’t deny it, I can tell. You’re practically drooling over there.” Steve smiled with all his teeth, even as he struggled to keep his breath even. “It’s disgusting.”

“You know what, fuck you. I thought you were different and you’re not.” The stranger spat, with far more venom than Steve was prepared for. “You’re the same as all the rest.”

He scoffed, before whirling on his heel, middle finger high in the air as he stormed off into the woods.

“Have fun with your sad, beige fucking life!” He yelled, voice a little choked up.

“I will!” Steve yelled back at him, oddly heated.

Rubbed his chest when he was gone, before sitting down to try and figure out what the hell just happened--and why the hell his chest hurt so much.

xXx

Steve’s life remained completely and painfully normal--until Nancy Wheeler.

Nancy and her smile, Nancy and her reminder of what it felt like to be loved.

She didn’t fill the void inside him, but what she did came close.

Felt similar.

Steve found he’d do anything for her, looking at life once again through the lens he had back when he was seven.

It was great.

Better than great--it was the best he’d ever been.

Then Barb went missing.

Shit hit the fan so fast that in retrospect, Steve still doesn’t understand it. There was Jonathan and his camera, with the background of his missing little brother. Tommy and his insults, grabbing Steve up by the collar. Nancy being weird, Nancy ducking him to hang out with the guy who took photographs of them having sex.

Steve's brain tracks it all in little snapshots. The way he realized that maybe Nancy was right--he was way more of an asshole than he thought. How he decided to clean the theater, and then apologize to Jonathan.

(Creepy shit or not, Jonathan’s brother was gone. Steve had never had a brother, but he understood how it felt when something important was taken from you.

How it made you act after.)

There was a shift inside him. Not coming from the void, but from how Steve dealt with it.

And then there was a fucking monster coming out of the ceiling.

This is how Steve learns the magic he once had wasn’t special. That it’s not the only supernatural thing that exists in the world.

Only unlike the snow and gingerbread house and boy with pointed ears and an Uncle that looked a hell of a lot like Santa Clause, this version came with evil government laboratories, the Upside Down and his girlfriend holding a gun.

It was kind of a lot, really.

Particularly because his parents weren’t home.

(They still came home of course, but it wasn’t with the same frequency as it used to be.

The business trips went from once a month, to every other week, to long stretches of away periods. Long enough that Steve spoke to them over the phone more than he did in person, and knew more about business mergers than he ever cared too.

Also his fathers love life, courtesy of his drunk mother.)

Steve didn’t exactly handle it well.

Doesn’t think any of them handled it well, really, even if Nancy blamed him for trying to pretend he was okay. But right as their relationship blew up in Steve’s face, shit started happening again.

Flickering lights and freaky monsters. A group of kids Steve found himself in charge of, who were doing their level best to commit suicide.

(“We’re helping El and Will, idiot!” Mike Wheeler protested in the back of Billy Hargrove’s Camaro when Steve brought up that this was not what being benched meant, and Steve let him have that one given the way the world was spinning.

God that asshole hit like a train.)

Another snapshot, full of fear and fury, and things were over once again.

Steve was telling Nancy it was okay. She could go with Jonathan, that he could tell it was what she wanted.

It hurt him to do it, but he wasn’t going to be like his own parents.

Realized with a weird amount of clarity, that he wanted to be the very opposite of his parents.

Late in the night, feeling every ache and pain in his body but knowing everyone was safe, Steve finally started the long trek home.

He didn’t have his car (he hoped that was still at the Byers place) and he didn’t have his keys (no clue where those went but he was praying it wasn’t in the freaky tunnels) and was well into the middle of his walk when his chest started acting weird. Really weird.

Steve ignored it.

He kept ignoring it, focused on getting back to his bed, and his bed alone.

(Maybe he had been thinking more than that. About how the last time he had truly been happy wasn’t with Nancy, but with Eddie. That he’d give anything to go play in the gingerbread houses again.

Maybe he was even thinking of how warm his Uncle had been, the way he was so gentle when he held Steve’s hand.

How he’d argued against Steve’s parents, when no one else ever did.

It was probably just the head injury.)

Unfortunately--or fortunately, depending on who you asked later--the weird feeling didn't stop.

It grew and grew, until it felt like something was breaking out of him.

Like a cough you’d long suppressed that crawled forcefully up and out of your throat, it both hurt and felt amazing, a pang echoing out through his very core--

Then suddenly there was snow on the trees and Steve was stumbling into a teenager with fluffy hair.

“Sorry.” He muttered, right before he went down on his knees.

“What the hell---” Fluffy haired guy said, spinning around and looking at Steve like he was a ghost. “Oh shit, are you okay!?”

“I’m fine.” Steve lied, even as he gave in and laid down.

Man, this snow was nice.

Comfy and soft, and cold on his face.

There was a string of curses coming from above him, and Steve made the effort to twist his head so he could watch fluffy hair kneel frantically next to him.

“ What happened!? How did you get here!?”

“S’long story man.” Steve slurred, feeling bad and looking worse. His head fucking hurt.

“Don’t suppose there’s a guy named Eddie around? He has uh,” Steve fumbled, hands trying to point to his ears. “Pointed. You know.”

He gestured to his own ear again.

(Figured he might as well ask, given all the snow.)

The Fluffy Hair pulled said hair back at that, revealing his very own pointy ear. “Dude you’re in the North Pole, all us elves have pointy ears.”

The North Pole.

The words Steve had only ever dared to think, and never said out loud.

“Cool.” He said instead, not really feeling like he was inside his own body.

“Just--stay there, okay? My name's Gareth I’m gonna go get someone.” Gareth the elf (an elf, wasn’t that a trip. Did that mean Eddie was also an elf?) said, hands hovering awkwardly in the air, before he darted off, out of Steve’s sight.

“Can you get Eddie?” The question came out in a whine, the hurt in Steve’s chest overtaken by the pain in his head.

He didn’t get an answer.

Which was okay, he thought.

He didn’t really need one.

He had the snow, and the woods that weren’t straight out of a fucking nightmare, and, he could just sleep right here…

“Steve!”

He blinked, and found he must have passed out.

“There you are. Stay with me.” A blurry face was saying. A couple more blinks brought it into focus, and Steve knew this person, even if he couldn't put a name to a face.

The hair was longer, and there were more rings on his fingers, ones Steve could both see and feel as a hand ran along the back of his head.

Worried doe eyes met Steve's own, and just through the curtain of curls, he caught the outline of a pointed ear.

“Ed--ie?” He croaked, unsure.

“Yeah Stevie, it's me. You're okay, we brought you back to my place. Gareth is getting help.”

He was trying to sound reassuring but he mostly just sounded worried.

Not that Steve cared, because he finally figured out why older Eddie was familiar.

“Oh.” He managed, the words feeling like he had to push out. “It was you. By the--pool.”

“What?”

It felt like eons ago. The weird guy, asking after him. Back when Steve had been doing anything he could to fill the void his magic had left behind, and turned into a raging shithead as a result.

“M sorry.” Steve slurred, voice cracking in its honesty. “I was--asshole. M'sorry.”

The look Eddie gave him was wild. Like he couldn’t believe Steve was here, and definitely couldn’t believe Steve was apologizing.

Which was fair. Until last year Steve wouldn’t have ever apologized, to anyone, ever.

“Yeah you were, but we can talk about it later. Right now I just need you to stay awake.” Eddie said instead. It was gentle, a lot more gentle than Steve felt he deserved.

It made him want to explain, more than anything, what had happened.

“I was tryin to fix…the hole. Inside.” Steve needed Eddie to understand. Needed it more than breathing, just then.

“I know, big boy.” Eddie soothed, and his hands were back in Steve’s hair.

It felt nice.

“S’not an excuse, promise it's not. I was hurt--hurting, and--I was mean.” Steve continued. It was getting harder to think, the world swimming in and out of focus, but this was important.

Perhaps the most important thing he’d done in a long time, sans saving the kids from the demodogs.

“It’s okay, Stevie. I didn’t get it back then but I understand better now and…”

He might have said something more. Steve thinks he was, but then Eddie was shaking him harshly, and Steve realized he might have tried to pass back out.

“Come on Stevie, sweetheart, you can’t sleep right now. You have to stay awake for me, okay? Steve?”

Steve tried to shake his head and hissed when he found out how much that hurt. Breathed in and out through the pain, before his brain connected back to what he’d been trying to say.

“Not jus’ to you.” He panted. “Wasn’t mean just to you.”

That was important too. That Eddie knew he hadn't been targeted. That Steve was a dick to pretty much anyone he came across.

“I know. I've uh, been watching you, from here."

“Yeah?”

“We have this giant globe. Like a crystal ball, but it’s set deep into the floor so you can only really see half of it. It can also connect to snow globes, and it can let you see places. Watch people.”

Eddie’s voice was soothing, the deep timber of it echoing through Steve’s chest. Belatedly he realized his head was in Eddie’s lap.

That felt nice too.

“I was real mad at you but the Bossman--uh, your Uncle, he kinda showed me you once or twice and then I started watching you myself. Sorry I know that’s weird--”

“Least you didn’t take pictures.” Steve wheezed and then tried to grin because that was very much supposed to be a joke.

(He definitely had felt more put together when he dropped the kids off in Billy's Camaro--so what the hell was happening? Had the shock worn off? Adrenaline?

Fuck maybe he should have just driven Billy’s stupid car back to his house, instead of leaving it at Max's house.

Asshole deserved to not know where his car was anyway.)

Then suddenly there was a lot of noise and light and fuck did that all make his head hurt. Hands went all over him, people barking orders, and a girl Steve was pretty sure was his age was peering at him.

“Steve?” She asked, but it sounded distant. Echoey and unclear.

“I can’t keep him awake!”

That from Eddie, who sounded much clearer, if not utterly panicked.

“It’s okay, I’ve got him.” The girl said, tight but professional in a way that typically belonged to someone used to medical emergencies. “You can let him go now.”

“Are you kidding me, Buckley you’re an apprentice medmage-!”

Steve frowned at that, but found something was drifting over him. A weight, like an invisible blanket pressed down gently, and he had a second to recognize that this too, was some kind of magic before sleep tried to take him.

He fought it for a moment as a thought occurred.

One last thing he needed to say.

“You’re still good. Eddie. You’ve always been--”

The magic took him away.

xXx

It smelled like cinnamon.

Cinnamon and sharp hints of peppermint, the kind that tickled at Steve’s nose as he slowly rose back into consciousness.

Steve winced as he sat up, head itching like ants were crawling all over it. Idly he tried to scratch at his forehead and found himself touching a thick bandage, at about the same time his body seemed to catch on that he was awake.

It reminded him that he had had a hell of a night in the form of an onslaught of aches and pains.

His fingers traced the edge of the bandage as he took in the cheerful red walls surrounding him. The room was the exact kind of kitschy his mom hated, little twirls of white here and there making the place look like the inside of a candy cane.

The center piece was the full size window, taller than Steve was and twice as wide. Fat, fluffy flakes of snow drifted lazily outside it, some sticking to the window panes as they floated on by.

It was a little like being knocked out and waking up in the Wonka factory, but given all the shit that he had been through the past twenty four hours, Steve didn’t mind it.

Snow was infinitely preferable to the weird ash that came out of the Upside Down.

As if sensing he was awake, the door opposite the window swung open. A tray came through, positively stacked with a stupid amount of pancakes and oozing with maple syrup, the type Steve could smell.

“I,” Eddie announced, head just visible above the good, “had a very embarrassing meltdown when they tried to take you away from me. So suck it up Harrington, because you’re stuck with me now.”

Steve stared at him, mildly concerned he was a hallucination.

“I brought you pancakes.” Eddie added, pausing as he approached the bed like he hadn’t actually thought through to this point.

“I see that.” Steve said, just to fill the sudden, awkward silence. “There’s…kinda a lot there, man.”

So much so it was threatening to escape the confines of the tray and drip down onto the carpet.

“You play sports things don’t you?” Eddie defended, making the executive decision to put the tray down on the bed. “Kinda thought you’d need like, a lot, especially if you're healing."

Steve snorted, but didn’t bother to hide the smile that crept onto his face.

Even if it hurt.

Dragged his gaze from the pile of pancakes now laid before him, to the man fidgeting awkwardly by his bedside.

Realized belatedly, that Eddie hadn’t changed much.

Not since Steve had last seen him, though he never in his life would have thought one of Santa’s elves would wear so much black.

(Frankly Eddie looked just like every other teenage metalhead Steve had ever met, sans the pointed ears. One of which was now pierced and had little metal hoops threaded through it.)

Eddie realized Steve was looking, and bashfully twist a strand of his hair in front of his face.

It was cute.

It made him look cute.

“You might as well sit and help me with this, it’s way too much.” Steve told him.

Which was the truth--Eddie had brought him a shit load of pancakes and Steve wasn’t exactly sure he could chew all that well right now, considering his left cheek was so puffed out it felt like a chipmunks.

Didn’t want to turn down a gift though--or rather, turn down a gift from Eddie.

Who he absolutely still needed to apologize properly too.

“I guess I should start off with a thank you.” Steve began, as Eddie dropped onto the bed. “I think you might have saved my life, though I swear I wasn’t doing that bad off before I got here.”

“Robin said the shock wore off.” Eddie told him. He didn’t wait for Steve to dig in, grabbing a pancake and rolling it up like a sausage before stabbing one end in syrup. “She also said you had a hell of a concussion, two cracked ribs and a literal boatload of scratches,”

Which sounded about right, considering.

“Still though.” Steve frowned, looking at his hands. “I mostly just fought off Billy, the demodogs never got me.”

Something he was incredibly thankful for, given the sheer amount of teeth.

“I think you’re downplaying your injuries here, handsome, you gave Robin a hell of a fright. She cursed in four languages." Eddie talked fast, just like the little boy Steve remembered him as.

It made him grin.

“Handsome, huh?” Steve teased, and regretted it the second it slipped out of his mouth.

He hadn’t meant to call attention to it. Not just yet anyway. Wanted to work his way up to his apology and then the things he had kind of realized on his walk home (and possibly before that, though he thinks he might have…repressed it.)

Given the way Eddie froze, Steve figures he’s got about two seconds to talk himself out of it, before Eddie rightfully shut him out.

“I like it. The nicknames.” He said, which is also not what he intended to come out of his mouth and God he was really blowing this, wasn’t he?

“Steve,” Eddie started, sounding a little strangled and nope, no, he was going to fix this dammit!

“I’m sorry.” He said honestly. “I know I was an ass when you came to check up on me, and I know I said some terrible things to you. I regret it. I regret it a lot, and I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”

“You weren't wrong.” Eddie cut in, twirling a ring on his finger, eyes firmly on it. “I am gay. I am flamingly gay. And I understand if after today, you don't want me here.”

Which apparently answered the question about whether or not elves gave a shit about such things.

(Or maybe they did, and it was humans who cared, and Eddie was giving him an out for it.

Steve figured he’d ask later.

After he had finished groveling.)

“I want you here.” He said, as seriously as he’d ever said anything. “I think the real question is why you would want to help me?”

It was the one thing that didn’t add up. Why Eddie had been so nice, when he’d shown up.

Sure it was one thing to be a good citizen or whatever, help out a guy who was passed out on the ground, but Eddie hadn’t just gotten help.

He’d stroked Steve’s hair. He’d kept him awake.

Hell he called Steve sweetheart.

And now he was here again, right by Steve's bedside, checking up on him.

You didn’t do that for the guy who was a downright douchebag too you, even if it had been a few years.

Eddie bit his lip, before he chanced a look back at Steve, up through his bangs. “Because you said I was good Steve. You were the first person who ever said I was good.”

Quieter he added “And because we were friends once.”

“I'd like to still be friends.”

“Even if I'm gay?”

Steve took a deep breath, and let out a truth that he’d maybe been ignoring for almost as long as he’d tried to forget about the hole in his heart.

“Cards on the table Eddie, I’m not sure I’m not gay Or whatever both is."

He'd heard the word once from Chrissy, but hadn't cared to remember it.

(Regretted that a little bit.)

He got a mighty frown in response.

“Don’t do that. Don’t--joke, like that.”

“It’s not a joke.” Steve said slowly, feeling the words as he spoke them. “I think this is part of the stuff I always just--ignored. Didn’t want to deal with it, because my--”

Steve couldn’t bring himself to say magic, and so, aborted the sentence entirely. “I couldn’t deal. So everything connected to this place, to the rest of my family, to you, I just pushed aside. Pretended it didn’t exist.”

Pretended that he was normal.

Just like his parents wanted.

Then he’d met Nancy.

Realized what he felt about her, he’d always felt about Eddie. That the way she looked at Jonathan wasn’t the way she looked at him--and even then, in the love he had for her, Steve hadn’t looked at her like that either.

Steve had been attracted to her for her yes--but initially, maybe, because she’d looked a little like someone else.

Admitted to himself that he the reason he could clock Eddie so fast back when he was fourteen, wasn't because he was that good at reading people, but because he recognized what it looked like to get caught checking out a guy.

“But I could never forget about you.” Steve added because well. “I’ve never been able to forget about you.”

He’d already said cards on the table, hadn’t he?

Might as well reveal his whole hand.

“You were the last thing I thought of, when I was trying to get home. I wasn’t thinking about my house, or my parents. I was thinking about you. I’ve never been able to come back here, not after Uncle Nick,” He cut himself off again, frustrated that he couldn’t just fucking it, but made himself take a breath.

Continue.

“--but I could, last night. I could get to you.”

Technically he’d gotten to Gareth, who Steve probably also owed a thank you too, but hey, beggars can’t be choosers.

Gareth had found Eddie anyway, in the end.

“I absolutely get if you want nothing to do with that, considering I think I’m just now accepting this about myself but. I wanted you to know. You’re important to me, Eddie. You always have been.”

It was weird--Steve should have felt laid bare. Vulnerable now that he’d laid out all these things he’d suppressed, that he thought taken away alongside his magic.

Instead he felt lighter than air.

Like the weight had finally been lifted and he could breathe deep once again.

For a long moment no one said anything and Steve figured this was it, he’d gone too far, when Eddie darted in, pressing a quick kiss to Steve’s cheek.

He pulled away just as fast. Wide eyes searched Steve’s face, as though expecting Steve to change his mind.

If anything, it just solidified it.

Steve reached out slowly, gently grabbing on of Eddie’s hands. Brought it up to his mouth and kissed the back of it, while maintaining eye contact.

Enjoyed the way Eddie’s face went bright red.

“You’re important to me too.” He managed, voice awed. “You’ve always been important to me. Stevie.”

Finally feeling like he knew where he belonged, Steve grinned back.

xXx

Bonus

“When I said let him sleep Munson, I didn’t mean with you!” Someone screeched a few hours later, jolting Steve awake.

“He was awake when I came in!” Eddie protested, shoving himself up onto his elbows when the women from yesterday--Robin, Steve thought her name was--stormed in. “We fell asleep together after Robbie, I swear!”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Hi.” Steve said with a little wave, before the two of them could screech some more. “I’m Steve.”

“I know, Dingus.” Robin told him, eyes narrowed in fury. “You’re a member of the Clause family, everyone knows who you are.”

“Oh.” Steve said, though it felt less cool and more weird that someone had finally said it out loud.

That he, Steven Harrington, had an Uncle, and that Uncle was Santa Clause.

‘Dustin is gonna freak.’

“I’m sure Mega-Idiotson here hasn’t told you, but I’m the medmage that saw you last night. Or kinda--see I’m an apprentice medmage, but my teacher was kinda out with the Boss seeing someone a town over and time was tight and we couldn’t exactly wait--”

“Breath, Buckley. In,” Eddie teased, before demonstrating a deep breath on himself, hand sweeping into his chest before he loudly exhaled. “and out.”

“Shut up, Eddie, I’m working up to something here!”

“What is it?” Steve said, feeling like if he didn’t interject Robin would take a while to get to the point.

“I might have accidentally undid whatever was on your magic?” Robin rushed out, so fast Steve nearly didn’t catch it. “Like I can tell that’s the Boss’s magic, and that he did--whatever that was, but I couldn't figure out how to heal you with it there and it was kinda already leaking out so I just--took it off?”

Steve gaped at her.

“You fixed me?” He managed after a moment, hand darting out to squeeze at one of Eddie’s.

“Um. Yes?” Robin cautioned, like she wasn’t exactly sure that’s what she did.

“Oh my god. Oh my god!” Steve laughed, then felt absolutely stupid for not checking in with himself.

Because Robin was right.

The hole was gone--and his magic was back.

How had he not noticed that his magic was back!?

“Eddie, Eddie she’s right--I have it back!”

He turned in bed, dropping Eddie’s hand so he could cup his face and kiss him instead.

“Okay, I don’t need to see this--” Robin complained, but Steve didn’t care.

Could only laugh delighted into Eddie’s mouth, before Eddie deepened the kiss.

(“Guys seriously I am still right here! Can’t you at least wait until I’m gone!?”

“No. Now get out Robin, you’re ruining my moment!”

“It’s okay, Eds. I’ll give you as many moments as you want.”

“Ew, ew, ew-!” )

This whole ass thing on A03 if you'd rather read it there!

914 notes · View notes

nejiverse · 1 year

Text

APOLOGETIC KISSES

Rin Itoshi

In which Y/n and Rin get into an argument before bed but the latter can't sleep without feeling his beloved girlfriend Fem! Reader

cw: neck kissing, (s/c) is skin colour

wc: 0.7k

Going to sleep and being angry with Rin was something Y/n really hated. She hated going to sleep right after an argument but he just annoyed her so much tonight.

"Don't talk to me Rin, you're pathetic", she spat, turning her back to him and letting the sheets swallow her.

Rin noticed how she briefly typed on her phone— no longer than fifteen seconds— and slammed it on the counter after she said those harsh words.

But talk about killing with words. She called him by his name. She never did that unless she was really pissed off, like now.

Rin's face remained calm and composed as he ran a hand through his hair, leaning back against the padded headboard.

How did he always manage to mess things up?

His sharp tongue that's how. He couldn't help it though, that was just the kind of person he was— telling it like it is.

But he had to admit to himself that he was out of line this time. He was in the wrong but he wouldn't announce that out loud, he had too much pride to do that.

Just before the ravenette was about to let out a hefty sigh, his phone buzzed. It was a message from his brother.

"Apologise".

Rin eyed his girlfriend from his peripheral vision— or the back of her head at least. She had a habit of complaining to his older brother every time they got into an argument and frankly it was annoying.

He figured that was why she was texting earlier.

He didn't need Sae giving him orders, he was old enough to make his own decisions.

He placed his phone down and laid down comfortably, his eyes facing Y/n's covered back.

It all felt wrong. His hands felt so bare and empty, not being able to feel her warm and gorgeous (s/c) skin beneath his hands, while his torso felt slightly colder, not having her back right up against him.

He needed to feel her.

Rin couldn't help but shuffle closer to her and gently wrap his hands around her body that fitted perfectly against his own.

He took his right hand and put it up her top, resting it against her stomach and his other hand moved her hair away from her neck before he entangled his fingers together with her own supple ones.

He let his lids fall over his eyes and left slow kisses up her neck.

"Don't be mad", he mumbled against her neck.

He didn't expect her to hear him nor did he want her to hear him, what he said was a hope for the morning more than anything.

Little did Rin know she was awake, trying hard to suppress her breaths.

His lips in their casual silent way, told her he was sorry.

His kisses were tender. He kissed her neck with reverence; it's what she deserved after all.

Once he started to trace little shapes against her stomach, her hand twitched against his own and she let out a soft sigh, making Rin stop. He didn't want to wake her up.

Y/n internally cursed herself. She didn't want him to stop at all, quite the opposite in fact.

Slowly, she took his right hand and ran it along her stomach again, urging him to continue.

Rin concluded that she was still in a state of sleep when she did that because if she wasn't, she would've pushed him off herself.

But he was gravely mistaken by that conclusion. When he kissed her neck like that and touched her so lovingly, it made her ponder why she was mad at him and why she even bothered staying mad at him.

Whether she was awake or not didn't really change that fact that he would pepper kisses along her neck till the break of dawn.

He opted to apologise properly in the morning.

Masterlist here :)

a/n: i'm in my Rin era ya'll I have so much ideas to write about

2K notes · View notes

kissitbttr · 5 months

Text

can’t stop thinking about simon falling for harley quinn reader typa beat

it’s a slow burn for sure, definitely not love at first right because he hates her guts the first time price introduced her during debrief session. she's fucking deranged. has murdered countless of innocent people before and not to mention shoplifting?? like why would price think it'd be a good idea to have her as a temporary addition to tf141? this woman is a criminal. he hates how cheery and giddy she is, always waving her hand to greet the team, acting like she hadn’t done some very questionable things, dropping offhanded comments that makes him choke in his own spit, parading herself in short black and red outfits that barely covers her ass and chest EVEN during the mission. it annoys him to the fucking bone.

but then as time slowly goes by, he begins to warm up to her existence. he’s starting to care about her well-being, putting a mental note on what she likes and dislikes, stealing glances at her way to see if she’s comfortable ever so often. he notices how she carries a red lipstick wherever she goes. black if she’s not feeling herself. his lips often twitches into a small smile whenever she does something cute to him and always always making sure she's okay during every single mission. ‘you okay, love?’ or ‘tell me if something’s bothering you, yeah?’ is what he always says. sometimes when the team has to split up, he’d be the first one to say ‘she’s with me’ and it makes her heart warms.

he's amazed at how well she handles rifles, all while looking and acting pretty. (he finds her adorable overtime too but he'd die before admitting that to her). when he lent her his signature AAC Honey Badger, he was impressed by how smoothly she used it, but nothing beats the way she kills enemies with her pink oversized mallet.

‘i can kill them in five, boys ! just give me a sec’ is what she says in a cheerful tone with a giggle after price had notified that there’s too much guards for them to handle. before price could even protest, she already loaded up her gun and walk towards where the guards are. it was something ghost had never found so attractive before but the way she said it? the confidence? her strutting like she owns the shit? considered him rock hard at that point.

before she goes, she tells the boys to wait while she does her thing. but not before sending a wink to ghost’s direction. she has a spot for him, she makes sure he knows that.

the team watch her gracefully killing the enemies through the cameras. small splash of blood painted her face as she smiles up at the camera to give the boys a small wave. she then jumps to one of the guard and put them in a headlock, suffocating him with her thighs to crack his neck in one swift motion (oh he’d do anything to let her do that to him)

‘fucking hell… look at this lass go’ soap tsked, others agreed. especially simon. this is the first time he had found a woman looking incredibly sexy and sophisticated while blowing someone's head off. it’s almost impossible a woman like her actually exists.

so the moment he hears her being held captured by the enemies, his blood runs cold. ghost. goes fucking. BALLISTIC. like 100% feral, no one could stop this man from tearing down the whole fucking sky to save her. so he makes up a plan to save her with the team. from there, add this scene while we're on it. safe to say she was truly moved by it.

‘oh… you were actually going to save me?’ she asks giving him her puppy dog eyes,

he grumbled while nodding sheepishly, his grip around the rifle tighten. ‘yeah.. and it was a pretty damn good plan too’

‘i’m sorry... well, i can go back in again if you still want to do it..’ her voice coming out soft and tender,

he smiles softly underneath the mask. even with dried up blood decorating her nose and the corner of her lips, he still finds her beautiful,

mentally ill but beautiful.

‘no—no that’s okay. ‘m just glad you’re safe, sweetheart’

he finds being with her is easy. just as easy as breathing. his once cold heart now softened because of her. and it is reserved only for her

i’m a firm believer that ghost is into batshit crazy women he can’t fix

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader

275 notes · View notes

diejager · 4 months

Note

Can you do a chubby reader? Asking for me 👉👈

Unconditional Cw: body shame, fluff, protective Gaz, self-hate, tell me if I missed any.

You often wondered to yourself why Kyle was still with you, someone unlikable, someone unfitting of the universal standards, someone so clumsy and so self-conscious —someone so fat. You weren’t like him, an adonis walking in the human world, his beautiful brown eyes, so warm and adoring, his smooth skin in the prettiest shade of chocolate that had you salivating and his smile, oh did it make you swoon, eager to drop on your knees for a man like him to give you a second of his attention.

Yet you wouldn’t have to beg for him, to drop to te ground with pleas when he already did it, whispering lovely things to you while he kept his eyes on you, never fleeting towards anyone else as if you were his whole world —you were. He loved you; he adored you, willing to do anything for a smidgen of your time, a small, tender smile of your pretty lips, the softness of your thighs and your warm body, always keeping him safe in the cool, winter times. He made sure to voice his devotion, speaking loudly and proudly how he loved you, unbothered by the venomous and envious stares of picture-perfect women with a model-like complexion. You held a piece of his heart as much as he had yours.

You told yourself that you were just lucky to find yourself someone so accepting, and he would tell you that this was fate, that he was bound to find you and fall head over heels for you despite your imperfections and queerness. He placed you on a pedestal that he was unwilling to let you move from, the shining star in his life, the gem in his eyes. He was chivalrous, a gentleman in today’s standards, treating you so well and confessing his love whenever he could. He took you out and fought to pay for you, reasoning that he was better paid than you and that he had to since he was the one who invited you (despite your exasperated complaints about wanting to repay him without depending on him soo much).

Perhaps that’s why your appreciation bloomed so brightly in your heart in moments like these, his beautiful face screwed in an offended frown, brows pinched and lips curled down. He showed his annoyance through small ticks: gritting his teeth, playing with his hands or jerking his foot beneath the table, but they were so small, inconsequential that most people ignored it for his pretty face.

“Hey, is this seat taken?” The woman - stranger - who’d approached your table looked like a model, a slim hourglass bodice, swaying breasts and round hips. She walked with confidence, her face curled with an air of sensuality and pride, so sure of herself when she had a perfect body.

Despite Kyle’s unamused expression, his eyes dulling, she fluttered her lashes, beating her long, doe extensions, expecting him to tell her what she wanted to hear. She’d probably been given everything she’s ever wanted, using her seductive appearance to garner attention and material with lower men, lonely and tired men, but Kyle Garrick was none of them, he was soft, he was gentle and he was sympathetic, much more human than people would give him credit for, for being a SAS soldier.

“Yes, sorry,” his tone was mellow, hiding well his distaste for her blatant ignorance of you, pushing you aside to make herself the center of his attention. She liked basking in attention. “I’m on a date.”

Her expression tore between shock and offensiveness, hardly containing her scoff when she glanced at you, chubby cheeks, round eyes and softer curves than her sharpness. Her narrowed eyes and little sneer made you flush in embarrassment, the shame boiling in your guts with a destructive self-consciousness about your weight and appearance. You avoided her gaze, preferring to stare at your fumbling hands, fingers knotting together in a mix of anxiety and hate. Kyle caught that.

“Are you-”

“I bloody am,” it was blunt, coldly snapping at her. It shocked the both of you, your demure boyfriend changed for something vicious and guarding. His usually comfortable and easily-approachable character became tall and imposing, someone you wouldn’t want to anger as he completely ignored her in favour of reaching out for you, taking your hands in his soft and warm ones. “Excuse us, but we have places to go.”

Rounding the table, he walked you out, arm wrapped around your pudgy stomach, the rolls plush under his hold, kneading your hip in soothing comfort. He leaned over to place a soft kiss on your forehead, smiling at your avoiding eyes, flushed and oh, so in love with the man you dated.

“Don’t worry, darling. You’re the only one in my eyes.”

He brushed away that pretty girl for you. It made your heart throb hotly, something warm weighing on your chest. It didn’t hurt, rather, it soothed your ache and fears, washing away the dark clouds of doubt and hate that hung over you.

Perhaps you truly were fated to be together.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi

176 notes · View notes

hobisstar · 6 months

Text

still with you |yandere!jjk x reader

Summary: things are not the same… they met. Now yn fears her life around him. He acts as though nothing happened. To him shes still the love of his life.

Warnings: jungkook makes yn seem delusional, cursing, mentions of smut, kidnap, harm to others, Someone is definitely being threatby jungkook, for sure.

Something was telling yn that maybe everything that happened to between her and jungkook was just all a dream. Tom, doesnt recall Jungkook acting weird or strange. Everything just seemed off. Weird.

The song was done but the damage was still there.

Whats even worst is they have to do a duet live tonight.

This will be the first time she has seen him since their encounter in her house.

“Hey! jungkook is live” Tom said showing yn his phone. Jesus even his name made her uncomfortable.

“Oh my collab? Yes, we get to see eachother later. Army, are you attending?” Jungkook smiled and chuckled with all the fans in the comments saying yes, of course, you two are my favorite, y/nnie 8th member. Things like that.

That would’ve made you happy but it just didn’t make things better. Was he pretending that he what happened just didn’t happen?

“I hope you all will enjoy it just as much as i will”

Scared shitless was definitely what you could describe yn at the moment she didnt know how to react to seeing him.

Its been a month since then and the man she has been avoiding is going to be in the same dressing room. This definitely wasnt set up.

While getting her hair done, she got notice that Jungkook wanted a practice.

Of course he does, he needs all the reasons to see her.

Honestly, its been killing Jungkook that he didn’t take her away for himself that night. The only thing is that as two public figures, that would only spark controversy. Where did the queen of youtube and indie music go? Disappearing after a hit collab would only make her look money hunger and Jungkook could never let his wife have such bad things said about her. Ever.

The way Jungkook feels should be written in the world record for the most delusional lover.

A lot has happened in a month for him. He definitely didnt get like 4 small hidden tattoos in his sleeve. It was 8. 8 tattoos of small things that represent yn. He got the words ‘love, mine, yours, hurt, intimacy, weakened, tenderness and attached.’ He loves her. Shes his. He is hers. Hurting that he cant see her. The intimacy he feels for her can never be weakened. Jungkooks tenderness is attached to her love.

It may not make sense but I promise you, its feels like a message to him. Those are the words she makes him feel.

And if he doesnt get to show her those things any time soon, he might actually snap.

While practicing on the stage, his heart was racing. He couldnt wait to see her walk on stage so heavenly. Just then there she was. In just some tights and a baggy shirt. Hair pinned up but man even in comfort she was beautiful.

Jungkook looked like he saw the love of his life. If only yn didnt look like she feared for hers. Yn was scared to even be scared. To even show how scared she was.

“ keep it calm, yn… you got this…” she whispered to herself. “ its only one performance. After that you are good. Just avoid him for now.”

As if that would go past Him. “ Ynnie~” he sang and smiled brightly waving at her from the stage. Yn waved back while standing next to tom below the stage.

God, Jungkook hated tom. As if you didnt know that already.

he felt as though he was in the way more and more each time. Why are they so close? What cause hes her manager? So? They dont have to be close because of that.

I know what you all have been waiting on. What happened that night? Well Jungkook knew that she wouldnt just allow him to go with her or anything like that.

the way they reacted to meeting each other you would think they never seen each other. But thats not half the truth.

Jungkook, as a huge fan, of course hes been to her concerts when he was younger. Front row. Maybe this is what started this weird obsession with her?

He doesn’t remember when it started but hes glad it did. Every weverse live he does, yn’s music or simply a youtube video is playing in the background. It’s become so normal that even the army are used to it. They support it but they dont know how deep this goes.

“ tom needs to be dead…” jungkook thought to himself while he watched them.

“He will die…”

It was time for the performance and Jungkook was ready. But once again, he saw Tom standing next to stage talking to yn.

Without thinking he walked up behind him and from where Tom was standing it was a area for sound and devices and stage material was at. Falling from there would cause serious injury…

5 month injury… maybe death.

Jungkook smirked and instantly pushed Tom watching him fall into the pit. Quickly he acted as though he just got there and he called someone for help.

I saw everything..

“Im so sorry this happened to you Tom…” yn stated sitting in the chair next to the hospital bed.

“ Im fine, ynnie. Its just a few ribs and a leg. Doc said ill be good in a few weeks. How was the performance?”

Tom was such a sweet guy. No matter how much he got hurt he still didnt care about himself. Yn hates it but loves it.

“Are you kidding me? I was worried the entire time. I wanted to go with you on that ambulance- “ right when yn was about to speak about the accident more, in walks what seems to be a sad Jungkook.

Yn couldn’t believe her eyes. He has the audacity to show his face in this room, when HE is the reason Tom is hurt? Oh she was so piss she felt the steam coming out of her ears.

“Kook! Just in time! I called you so you could take her home? I would’ve done it but… physical cant.” Tom stated smiling lightly.

Whipping her head to Tom then to Jungkook.

If only he knew… he is the reason for all of this mess.

“Oh no i can call my friend to come get me-“

“No need. Im already here and its not a hassle. I dont mind taking you… home.” Looking back at Jungkook she saw him smiling.

Maybe because finally they can be alone together.

On the way down to the car lot, it felt like deja vu. Again yn is in a car lot scared but this time its with jungkook because of jungkook.

yn was thinking smarter she needed for Tom to know who pushed him. Believe her or not. She feared this would be the last time she was gonna be seen by anyone.

ynnie: T, I hope this message gets to you as as possible. Im scared… im scared that this might be the last time im ever seen in public. And i want you to know if i go missing, Jungkook is the reason why. He has this obsession over me and i think he might kidnap me… He also the reason why you are in the hospital. Read this as soon as possible..my location is on…

Pressing send she put her phone away realizing they were infront of Jungkooks car.

Wow, looks just like hers…

With precaution, she took out her pepper spray and hid it behind her purse.

Only she could save herself now..

“Wanna put your address in-“

“ im sure you dont need it, as you followed me home a few months ago…” she stated staring him. She will not hide the hate she feels for him. Jungkook simply let out a chuckle.

“Right…” he started the car and off into the night they were.

The car ride was silent. Yn was looking at her phone waiting Toms reply since she saw that hes seen it.

PING PING

In a hurry she looked at her phone and she promises she might have thrown up from what she read… it couldn’t be.

T: im so sorry

T: he told me that if i didnt give you to him i would be dead and my family would too… im sorry ynnie… im so so sorry… hes your manager now…

As if on queue… Still with you started playing on the radio. But before that she caught what the host said before that… “Yes! You heard the big news! BTS’s very own Jungkook has signed a contract with the beautiful Yn! He is now her manager and they have more songs on the way! In celebration we will play the song that started it all… Still with you!”

Looking up in pure shock and fear what she had just heard…

“ what did you do..” she mumbled feeling tears run down her face. Jungkook smiled and let out a chuckle.

“ Im starting us over. Im finally getting to have you. We made history and im so glad it wasn’t hard persuading Tom to give you over to me… he practically begged for me to take you.” He looked out the window before turning.

Yn was so lost that she didn’t even realize until now this was definitely not the way to her house.

He wasnt taking her home.

In a panic yn tried to use the pepper spraybut Jungkook quickly said “ I wouldn’t do that if I were you. We could get into a crash, my love. I dont want my lover getting hurt.” He grabbed it from her and threw it in the backseat

“ you never planned to take me home did you?” She mumbled while shaking vigorously. He hummed and nodded, “ No, I finally have you alone…

And you think i was going to just send you off? Absolutely not. Now sit back and enjoy the scenery. Youll be looking at this road a lot more on our way home…” without skipping s beat he turned up the radio and drove a little faster.

And once again Still With You… haunting her ears and soul.

If only she saw the signs then

He wouldn’t be

Still with You.

OH GOSH! If im being honest i think this part 2 might suck lol. But its out there and there is no turning back! This took me 2 days to write and hopefully its okay with you guys. Hopefully you enjoy it!

Tagging Angels: @ctrlsht

#bts x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #hobisstar writes #jungkook ff #bts #jungkook x you #yandere jungkook #yandere bts #jungkook imagine #idol!jk #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jk #jeon jungguk #bts yandere

181 notes · View notes

red-write-hand · 5 months

Text

Worship Him

pairing -> thomas shelby x f!oc (tony bentini)

warning -> mutual masterbation, mutual pining, smut that slowly morphs into fluff, mutual love/hate, dom/sub themes??, dirty talk, wet dreams

word count -> 4,530 (only took me two months-)

notes -> omg why did this take me two months?? also did NOT mean for the ending to be fluffy, the original ending was really weird and would have taken me much MUCH to actual write so enjoy fluff tommy

reblogs, comments, and likes are much appreciated! this writer *points to the writer, curled up in a pile of blankets while watching the 2013 Gatsby* is a lil tired, be nice to them :]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

This shouldn’t be happening. She shouldn’t have these feelings. She shouldn’t be spending nights, still awake in her spacious plush bed, thinking about him. None of this should be happening. She should not be thinking of him when her fingers were trying to satiate her ever growing need for him. She was sitting at her desk but she couldn’t get work done. She was lying in bed but not sleeping. She was at Bentini charity galas but no one ever could keep her attention.

Her lip was bruised and tender from her teeth sinking into them while her fingers tried to emulate the euphoria she so desperately needed. She was ashamed of herself. She was embarrassed by what she had to do. How she had to take care of herself. She didn’t want to be thinking about his pale blue eyes that seemed to know every one of her little secrets. She didn’t want to be thinking about his jaw and the way he would fix it in one place if he got antagonized. She didn’t want to be fantasizing about the way he gently played with his cigarettes. The way that he would care for the cigarette. It took all of her willpower to not swipe it out of his pale lips and take a drag herself. She wished she could study him, just keep him in one position to examine every inch of his gorgeous body. Or at least, what she thought was a gorgeous body. She really couldn’t tell half the time, he wore so many layers. She clutched at the sheets thinking about lovingly tugging off his layers, one by one. Ever so lovingly, ever so teasingly. She wanted to worship him, she wanted him to worship her. Her indecisiveness was killing her slowly from the inside out.

She felt her head loll back onto the soft pillow while she felt her slender digits go deeper. She thought about his arms, the way he would roll up his sleeves when he needed to work. She thought about that stare that he gave her, the one that made her want to apologize for something she hadn’t even done. Not even apologize, more like drop to her knees and confess her sins. She knew her thoughts were running away but then again, she could feel that pool of heat in her stomach when she thought about that. Worshiping him. Praising him. She imagined how he would hold her face and tell her how well she was loving him. She imagined that her fingers, now starting to pump faster and faster, were his fingers. She imagined that his voice was telling how pretty she looked with her flushed face and legs obediently open. Just for him. Only for him. She felt herself come closer to that glorious feeling she needed, that release she knew she would get by thinking about him, that final thought that would send her over the edge to the warm nothingness of ecstasy. She gingerly added another finger, seeing if she could get there faster. She was imagining him chiding her. She could hear his voice in her head.

“Where did all that attitude go, eh? So you want to be a good girl now that you know that there will be consequences? Let’s see how long you can last, princess.” She arched her back slightly to feel her fingers go even deeper. She needed him so badly. She felt a string of sweet noises fall from her plump lips. She wished he was here, with a hand on her hip, holding her in place while she thrashed against his fingers. She could only imagine him relentlessly going deeper and deeper, drawing the exact noises that he would expect from all those women who came to the Garrison and chatted up his brothers. Those women who wore tight dresses with low cut bodices. Those women that always had a smile on their face even when being hit on by drunk Peaky Blinders.

She was definitely not one of those women. She was a dark queen who ran an empire. A empress who had people’s lives in the palm of her hand. She would not be the type of woman to be in her bed thinking about a man that she publicly hated. She would not be the type to fall to her knees and worship him like the god that he thought he was. She would never— then again— the way he walked into the room, practically demanding authority. She would only ever keep this to herself but she would give anything to be the woman who he pulled into his lap and played with for hours upon hours until he saw fit to let her rest. She would give anything to just be in his lap, with him deep enough in her that she could feel it if she shifted ever so slightly, keeping him sane while he sold his mind off to the world. What she wouldn’t give to be the one that he held in his arms in the earliest hour of the morning until he would have to leave her again.

She wished she was his, that he was hers. She felt the pool of heat grow even more in the pit of her stomach. She wanted him, she needed him. She needed everything that he was. His figure, his mind, his soul. She hated him. She hated everything that he was but she wanted nothing more than to be in his arms. She hated his cornflower blue eyes that picked apart her soul, piece by piece. She hated how gently he treated his cigarettes, she wanted him to gently graze his fingers down her body. She wanted him to rip her apart and kiss her back together. She wanted to be his plaything, his doll, his pretty wife who stayed home and cooked. She wanted to be equal, for him to praise her, to hold his face and make him beg for her. She was so close, so incredibly close, she wished he was truly there. That he would use his condescendingly sweet tone he used on her when they had fought over a contract. That tone that drove her up the wall and made her inner thighs wet. That tone that slapped you in the face and kissed your bruise away. She imagined being this close to the edge of the cliff and hearing his biting tone.

“Aww, is my pretty slut close to her release, eh? Maybe I should pull my fingers out and make you suck on them until they’re completely clean?” She needed him so badly. She needed that idea of him. She let out a sharp breath as her fingers were pulled out. Her eyes fluttered shut as she fantasized about him holding her jaw and hovering his fingers in front of her lips. She parted her lips slightly and her fingers entered her mouth. She imagined that her fingers were his. She swirled her tongue around her three fingers, trying to clean all of her slick off of them. She envisioned that he was stroking her hair with his free hand, with a knee between her thighs, with her hips trying to buck against him. She could imagine him holding her down as he thrust his fingers farther into her throat. She pushed her fingers like she imagined he would, with the same rhythm he would.

Once she was done, she knew she would feel ashamed. Not right now. Feeling embarrassed or ashamed was for later. That was for a later Tony with a more sound mind. She would pour over her feelings for him like a binding contract that didn’t make sense. She dreamed that he would drive into her hard if she kept squirming. If he was really here, thrusting hard into her, she would have a constant stream of noises coming out of her, only ceasing when a searing kiss came to her lips. She could only imagine a smirk playing at his lips while he played with her, bringing her to the edge over and over until she was dumb with pleasure and drunk on his love.

She imagined that while she rode out her ecstasy, he would tell her how beautiful she was and how much he loved her. She came back to reality just for a second to feel her fingers thrust faster and faster inside her. She knew it was slightly disgusting, she had gone into her own mind again and the hand that had been firmly clutching at the bedsheets for so long had gone autopilot. Now she had switched hands, her non-dominant hand was now inside her and her right hand was now gripping the duvet as hard as she could as she tried to relieve herself of the need for a man she was supposed to hate. Her back arched even more and her eyes squeezed shut. She wanted it to end. She wanted him to be hers. She wanted him. She needed him. She craved what he could give her. She knew that he may never give her an opportunity to be his. She wanted to worship him. She wanted to show him how much she loved him. She wanted to be his personal doll. His own plaything. Only his. Only—

She shot up from her sleeping position. She shuddered. How could she dream about that?! How could she dream about pleasuring herself to the thought of him? Why him?! She hated Thomas Shelby. She did hate him, right? She couldn’t stand the thought of him at all. She hated his eyes that were the color of the endless sky, the ones that she could imagine holding her own on the day of their wedding—No! She despised him! She did despise him, right? She smoothed down her hair and slid out of bed. She crumpled onto the ground and fixed her matching set of peach nightwear. It consisted of a pair of peach colored, satin short shorts and a peach bikini top.

She pulled herself into her tiled bathroom and splashed some lukewarm water at her face. She stared at her reflection in the wall length mirror. Her reflection stared back but there was something in her eyes, a want. A need. For something. For someone. Someone she knew all too well. She splashed more water on her face, some of it dribbled onto her chest. It almost felt like— No. She was not going to think about him. She was not going to think about the possibility of his hungry kisses dipping down into her sensitive chest. Her eyelids started to flutter closed which meant she was going to dream again. Dream again about a man she hated. Fantasize again about a man who she would never have. Fantasize again about the man who hated her as much as she hated him. Then again, in the back of her mind…

If this is how she felt about him, does he feel the same?

Thomas Shelby’s biggest problem right now was the tightness of the crotch of his work pants. He was filling out contracts for Shelby Company LMT which was usually just very boring and monotonous, but now? Thinking about her? He couldn’t stay still. He needed to do something about this. About her. About her taking up so much space in his head. He couldn’t get her out of his mind. She was everywhere now. He kept seeing that shade of red, that dark hair, those gray eyes, that baggy suit. He kept feeling her tantalizingly feather light hands on his shoulders, her breath late at night, her eyes boring into the back of his head. He could hear her teasing laugh, her mocking comments, the Gaelic obscenities she muttered under her breath. He hated everything about her. He hated how much he thought about her. He hated the way her body was just so infuriatingly perfect.

In those vulnerable moments, those moments where he just needed that release, he thought about her. Her perfect body in that tight, immaculately cut red dress. He shook his head, trying to shake the thoughts out of him. She was the most powerful woman in all of Ireland, she always looked so sullen when she had to do deals with him. Like she hated him. Then again, last time he checked, he hated her too. He hated everything about her. He hated the way her suits hung off her just enough to keep her power but also to keep her body a mystery. He hated the way her gray eyes practically ran laps around him every time they had to talk with their eyes. He hated the way she smoked, all daintily, like she was afraid that her slender fingers would snap the cigarette clean in half. He hated the way she handled weapons, the way she flipped bats, the way she shot guns, the way she broke alcohol bottles. He hated that she gripped weapons like she knew what she was doing, but when it came to him, her touches were lighter than air. He wanted her to touch him like she did her bat. The way her fingers wrapped around the hilt of the bat so familiarly, like she had done it a million times. He was not about to go to the extremes that he wanted her to do that to him, but he did have those nights. Those dark nights of shame where he would relieve himself for hours simply thinking about her. Those covered nights where he could pace around Arrow House thinking about what to do about her. It was always her. Time and time again, it was always her. She just would not budge from his mind.

He slid his chair back and checked for anyone looking into his office. He cautiously unbuttoned his pants and slithered a hand while he thought about all the reasons he hated her. His head lolled backwards. He really did hate her.

He hated how a smirk would always be playing at her lips after she had riled him up. He hated the way her voice caught and hitched if she was caught off guard. He hated the way she could command an entire room by just sending a cold stare around the room. His hand got quicker, despite the very confined space that were his pants, his hand was doing him a lot of good. He tilted his head back and let out a soft groan. He needed his release soon. He needed her too much. He needed his rough hands on her curves, or at least what curves she would let him touch. His pants were slowly shifting off him from the friction. His groans morphed into a string of rushed Romani. All the things he would say to her if she was his.

As time passed and the more their eyes connected, the worse it got. The more times that Tony would lie in bed and stare at the ceiling, trying to sleep but meeting an immovable wall that could only be fixed with the man that she tells herself every day that she hates. It can only be fixed after being completely fucked through. Fucked dumb enough to do whatever he wanted. She felt her thighs squish together at the thought of that happening. The thought that one day she, the queen of the Irish drug world, would be being split apart, thrust after thrust, dirty Romani phrase after phrase. She hated that she did it but it was like her body worked on autopilot. She could only watch as her slender fingers lazily danced down to her slowly dampening core. With a soft sigh, one of her fingers started to work over her warm insides, trying to emulate a feeling she had never felt before. His fingers. The way he moved his fingers. Then, her mind moved from fingers to words to a mouth. The fantasy played in her of the man, the Shelby no less, above her, while she was obediently on her knees, gripping her hand with one broad hand. It was almost like she could hear him say, “You’ve acted like a fuckin’ brat for almost three months. Now let’s see you use those pretty lips wrapped ‘round my cock, then we’ll see if you’re really being a good girl.”

Her fingers started to go faster and faster. The idea of his hoarse Birmingham accent barking out orders for her to follow to the letter. The idea that she would be his good girl, his sweet obedient girl, nothing like she was in her work life. She imagined the nights she would spend with him, his arms wrapped around her, caging her from the outside world, for him and only him to touch, for only him to play with, for him to love. Love was a strong word to use about Thomas Shelby but it was what she had realized she wanted from him. It was his love. His love and his body and his mind, but most importantly his soul. His ever living gorgeous soul. She felt her body’s pent up energy and started to thrash against her own fingers, imaging they were his. She needed him. She needed him more than ever now.

The Shelby in question was now in his office in his sprawling manor. He had locked the doors after telling the maids to not call upon him unless it was an emergency. He found himself thinking of her, the dark angel that would love nothing more than to put a bullet between his eyes, under this very desk, big gray eyes pleading for him. He wished that he could just reach out and stroke her pale cheek. He wished that he could see her eyes well up with tears as she gagged herself on him. His head, almost on his own, lolled back, imagining how well she would take him. He thought about all the small sounds only he could pick up on, the hitches in her breath, the whimpers she made, the broken cries that came from her as he took her in the most animalistic sense. It was like a drug to him, thinking about her. Thinking about all the ways he would make her feel good. All the different sounds he could coax out of her. She was dismissive of him in their business lives but oh how he fantasized about throwing her onto his plush bed and bringing her ego down, seeing what she was like stripped down both physically and emotionally. He always did like to do business with people who had nothing to hide. His hand, without his mind even realizing it, had been slowly getting himself off. He knew tomorrow he would be disgusted with himself. She hated him and he hated her.

Then again, it wasn’t tomorrow and men like him did a lot of things during the deep hours of the nights that they were not proud of, why shouldn’t he do the same? His hand continued, faster this time. His eyelids fluttered close as the pleasure started to get too much. His pants had been so uncomfortable after she left. After he had gotten a nice view of the top of her cleavage. They were not too big or too small, just perfect enough for him. He had been catching glimpses of how her thighs stretched her pants even though she had specifically tailored her outfit to be two sizes too big. Still her thighs stretched the material when she sat in front of him. Thomas Shelby did not seem the type to want to pleasure a woman endlessly but oh when he saw her thick thighs, all he wanted to do is have her thighs squeeze the sides of his head while he used his silver tongue to bring her to the brink of pure bliss, his silver tongue that he honed to get money from anyone or get out any deadly situation, his silver tongue that had brought him success in politics, his silver tongue that could talk anyone out of doing anything. He would use it to make the girl that he now realized that he loved.

A battle was being waged in the Shelby man’s heart. On one hand, he only wanted her for physical gratification. To use her body and then use the experience against her. Then again, on the other hand, he wanted to wake up next to her. He wanted to wrap his arms around her middle and kiss down her neck just to hear the giggle he knew would bubble out of her mouth. Wanted to run his fingers through her hair after he had a nightmare to ground himself in reality, that she was right there. Wanted to see her run into his arms because she associated him with safety and love. He wondered offhandedly if she felt this way for him. Maybe they could build a life together.

Yes. Yes, in fact she did feel the same. It was early the next morning and Tony hadn’t slept at all that night. Couldn’t stop thinking about the man she now had accepted that she was infatuated with. As she got ready, the more she thought about the conversations she would have with him while they would be getting ready for their respective days. She imagined it would be a lot of fending off his traveling hands. Hands that she wished would hold her face as she kissed him. Hands that held cigarettes the way she wished would hold locks of her hair. She wished she could slot herself into his strong arms late at night. Wished that she could curl up in his lap as he worked, letting him kiss the top of her head and letting him love her. Wished that she could see his smile when he saw her.

On two different sides of town, two people found themselves infatuated with each other. Infatuated with the idea of pleasure, bliss, and love. They needed each other to the extent that it was almost like their hearts beat as one. She needed his words and he needed her touch. Their fire burned of love and hatred. White hot passion and infatuation alongside scorn, spite, and animosity. They would kiss while they stabbed each other in the back. They would make wedding vows while the world burned due to matches they held. There was no line between hatred and passion for either of them. It was one feeling. That burning need for action. For something to happen.

Tension. That is the word they were searching for. As Tony tried to dress herself the next morning, all she thought was him. Everything he had ever done in front of her. She wanted more, she needed more. She needed more of him. It was unraveling her by the second. She needed him to toss her around, to use her, to do anything. She would be his doll if that meant that he would touch her the way she needed. The way that every girl in Birmingham wanted him to touch her. She wanted to be tied to his bed posts, she wanted to be bent over his desk, she wanted him to order her around. That itch in the back of her mind that just kept telling her to do something about it but she knew that he hated her right back. Her vanity was big and she stared back at a girl who just wanted the man who could make her feel something. Her breath became even as she retreated into her thoughts.

This time, they were not dirty. They weren’t her need to be his good girl, she imagined his hands on her face, ever so gently. His thumb brushing against her bottom lip. Her thoughts were soft and sweet. It was a flash of lights and colors and sounds. A car starting. Laughter. Flowers. A full field of them. Tommy in a field of flowers. Tommy in a field of flowers with her. Tommy in a field of flowers with her on his chest. Dialogue. He was talking so sweetly to her. His hand was on her face, just the way she liked it. She was wearing a shirt that did not look like hers and a skirt that she definitely did not own. It was so…perfect. Serene and nothing like what her life was like. It was her ideal world. A world where he loved her back.

Her body felt weightless, like she had finally realized something. In fact, at that moment she had. It wasn't just tension she felt, it was love. It was idiotic love. It was silly, stupid love. It was the love that only she could hold for him, the kind of love that keeps candles alive. The kind of love that keeps adding wood to a well kept up crackling fire in a fireplace. It was love.

Nothing about Thomas was right. He hadn’t slept, only thinking about Tony. How well she would take his cock. How adorable she would look under him. What kinds of sweet sounds he could pull from her bruised lips. As he pulled on her vest his thoughts flitted over to the fleeting wish for her to be the one buttoning her vest. Oh how he wanted to see her eyes, tired from the early morning, helping him get ready while still wearing his shirt that he had given her to sleep in the night before. Oh how he wished to hear her chiding him for getting blood on his vest yesterday because she would not be the one to wash it this time, you idiotic man.

He smiled against his better judgment, he smiled because behind his eyes, in his dreams, she was there. She was there in a white satin dress with a golden veil standing at the altar in front of him. She was there, in an orange sundress, by the sea with his arm wrapped around her, kissing her temple. She was there, with her slender arms wrapped around his neck, telling him that he has been working far too long and if he did not come to bed this instant she would drag his ass by his lapels into bed and no, he wouldn’t be touching her. She would be there, leaning on the counter on a lazy Sunday morning, ready for him to set her on the counter and lean his head against her chest. He now realized what he was feeling. He had been under the impression that it was blind hate and nothing else but there was something under the surface. It was calm and content. It was what he was before the war. She somehow brought out the boy that he was before the war. The boy that wanted romance and someone to settle down with. He felt something in his chest. He chuckled. He smiled. Maybe she had started to have an effect on him. Then he realized what it was. It was pure and perfect love.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

wow. that took awhile. i'll post ANOTHER fic today/tommorrow too :]

taglist: @birminghamshelbyboys @goosita @cillianthinker @hllywdwhre @hanawrites404 @no-1peakyfan @forgottenpeakywriter @nick-carried-away @cilldistilled @atomicradiogirl @aphroditeslover11 @thatwitchybitch420 @shelbybabysblog @no-fooking-fighting

#thomas shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #cillian murphy #peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby x oc #tommy shelby x oc #oc: tony bentini #thomas shelby x f!oc #tommy shelby x f!oc

136 notes · View notes

starlightandfairies · 26 days

Note

Ahhh your writing is just perfect! ❤️ I dare for another idea hehe 🫶🏼 just maybe something where you're dating but you get incredibly jealous as Katherine appears back in town and you know of their past. So you think it would be better to step back for a while but Elijah notices immediately and misses you as you not show up at any occurrence. He later finds you at the Grill, talking with the Salvatores about that topic and Elijah eavesdropped the whole conversation, finally realizing what's wrong with you and feeling bad for this to happen, as he only has eyes and feelings towards you. Then one night he invites you over to his house and tells you about his feelings and that you don't have to worry about Katherine as she's long forgotten to him and he proves that to you that night? ☺️ Ugh I love cute and fluffy Elijah !

Description: With Katherine back in town, knowing Elijah's past with Katherine brings some unwanted shades of jealousy to the reader.

Warnings: she/her pronouns, fluff, swearing

*Requests are open, please send through as many requests as you want, check my character list and requesting rules.*

Thank you for both of your lovely requests! I hope you also enjoy this one and thank you as well for your kind words!

Key: Y/N = Your Name, L/N = Last name, POV = Point of view, F/fs = favourite flowers

Word Count: 1,279

First Person's POV

Elijah and I currently sat in my favourite café, it was normally very quiet and once again today was one of those days. Elijah stared at me with admiration, he held my hand softly in his, rested small kisses on my knuckles and whispered words of devotion.

"I'm just going to run to the bathroom." Elijah nodded, resting another kiss on my hand and finally let me go off to the bathroom, I did what I needed to do and finally came back out. I stopped in my tracks, seeing a brunette talking to Elijah, he looked less than impressed, he looked pissed and I could only assume what that meant.

"Katherine." I simply stated, choosing to sit beside Elijah instead of across from him, the woman forced a smile to her lips the resting bitch look not fading from her eyes. I could feel this twinge of hurt and jealousy invading my being. Katherine took it upon herself to sit down and join us, Elijah let go of my hand and the once gentle and tender look that decorated his features was long gone.

"What was your name again...?"

"Y/n" I answered, hating the way she stared at Elijah, I knew of their past as Elijah had been quite open about his past relationships. Katherine nodded, shrugging and turned her attention to Elijah. I grabbed my things, kissed his cheek and pushed myself up to leave.

"Bonnie wanted me to do something, I'll see you later." Elijah nodded, staring at me for a moment, I walked out before anything could be said and made my way to Bonnie's house. I asked Bonnie to do a spell, something that would allow me to go under the radar and not be found by Elijah considering that I would be distancing myself from the love of my life to conceal the ugly green monster.

I had been cancelling dates, vague answers over the phone and would leave quickly with some bullshit excuse if Elijah appeared out of the blue. I could tell he could sense something was, I didn't want to mention that something was wrong and he hadn't questioned my actions.

Elijah's POV

Something was wrong with Y/n I couldm't place my finger on what it was, I couldn't understand what had happened and why she decided to almost disappear. I was missing her dearly, I missed seeing her smile, I missed her silly little jokes and her ability to make all my world seem so much better against all the issues going down. I missed her little rambles she would go on, the point is that I miss her and I don't know how to bring her back to me.

I had finally been able to catch the trail and follow her around, see if I could understand what was going on and it took me to the Grill. I stood near the bar, blending into the ground and proceeded to listen in on her conversation with the Salvatore brothers.

"I know it's silly of me but I can't help but be jealous."

"Come on, you know that the noble fossil wouldn't cheat on you." Damon remarked, a clear roll of the eyes that made Y/n whack him lightly.

"I being serious Damon! I know he has history with Katherine, when he was human he loved Tatia and then he found Katherine. What if her coming back brings back the feelings? I can't stand the idea of him leaving me for her and I don't want that to happen."

"Y/n have you tried speaking with Elijah? You know he'd hear you out and he'll be respectful of what you're going through." I let out a breath, I clenched my eyes shut, hating in myself for not reading the signs. If I knew sooner I would've done everything in my power to reassure Y/n that the only person my heart sings for is her.

"He's a 1000+ year old vampire, he has more important things than dealing with my petty feelings."

"Y/n listen here. Elijah worships the ground you walk on, he wouldn't think any less of you for worring about Katherine. We all know what Katherine is like and you have every reason to be worrying about it." Damon's response seemed to freeze her in her place.

"Thank you..."

Four nights later, I invited Y/n to come over, I will admit I was surprised when she agreed. We journed to my bedroom, she placed herself on the bed, fiddled with her hands and I took this as an opportunity to shut down the feelings of doubt and jealousy.

"Y/n the other night, I overheard you speaking to the Salvatores about what's been going on..." She buried her face in her hands, looking ashamed and worried about what I could possibly say. I sat beside her, took her hand and cupped her face in my other hand to ensure she met my eyes.

"I understand your worries completely. I understand and I want you to know, that Katherine does not matter to me. She hasn't for 500 years. All I care about is you, no one else matters to me, just you. I love you with all my heart, I love your smile and your little jokes. I love when you leave me a note with a little picture, I worship the ground you walk on and I will go to hell back to prove that I love you as much as I do. I am awfully sorry that you haven't felt as if you could speak to me and I feel awful that this happened. But please, my love... know that I would never ever dream of breaking your heart and leaving you alone. You have my word, I promise you that I won't let the devil of a woman try and break us apart because she is long forgetten."

She took a few breaths, Y/n moved closer to me, rested a kiss upon my forehead and took a moment before finding the courage to speak.

"I am sorry, I'm sorry that I didn't come to you, I'm sorry I didn't allow you to know what was going on. It was fair of me to shut you out when you haven't done anything to warrent it. Please forgive me."

"There's nothing to apologise or forgive for. My love, let me prove to you my undying and everlasting love for you." Her shy little smile brought a smile to my lips, I cupped her face in my hands, bringing her in for a kiss and listened to her hum as I brought her into my arms for an embrace, Y/n took a moment to breathe and whispers softly into my ear.

"i love you, Elijah. I love you more than you'll ever know."

"I love you more my love."

First Person's POV

Late into the night, we lay in each other's arms, Elijah and I lay naked under the blankets. My headed rest on his chest, he took my hand away lying across him and brought my hand to rest a sweet and longing kiss against my palm. The action was enough to keep my smile stuck on my lips and it was enough for me to snuggle in closer to him with my hand resting in his and his tender eyes continuing to made me feel incredibly loved and devoted to.

122 notes · View notes

simplifiedemotions · 2 months

Text

Meet Me At Night

For @sumbul <3

Dissolution started with a strangled heart and a bruised jaw.

Tender and unsorted, Hermione curled into Draco’s armchair. The only place that guarded his scent since he’d left. Indigo curtains shifted in the night breeze, and she snuggled closer, seeking the vetiver warmth. She was too tired to shut the window, too sad for anything but sleep.

The next morning, she awoke in her bed.

—

The first few times, she assumed that she’d woken up and lumbered off to bed groggily. But after a month, she concluded that someone had moved her whilst she was sleeping.

Not many people could access her Floo network.

At half-past three one morning, she forced herself to stay up, watching through half-lidded eyes as he approached her. She tried her best to be still even though a ravenous part of her wanted to reach out to him like a caged beast.

Draco stood in front of her, his vetiver scent a comfort to her tired bones. She found it difficult to keep still under the weight of his scrutiny. Even while they’d dated she’d always found his grey gaze heavy and unrelenting, and it was worse now because she didn’t know what he was thinking.

Why was he here when he was the one who’d broken her heart?

A sigh. Then she felt the press of his warm fingers trailing across her cheek. A gentle touch stolen in the darkness of night.

Before she knew it, he was bending over, and she fooled herself into thinking he’d steal a kiss. But his arm merely curled around her shoulders as he lifted her up into his arms and carried her into their—her—room. Balancing Hermione with one arm whilst he peeled back the comforter, Draco laid her down like she was the most precious cargo.

Tears burned behind her eyelids.

He left before she could think of something to say.

—

He did this every night, always coming around at the same time. A clockmaker diligently closing his shop at night.

Then one night he came through the Floo and Hermione wasn’t in his chair. She’d decided to challenge the cogs he set in place and set the pendulum in the direction she wanted.

—

She stared at him with open eyes as he looked back at her in alarm.

“How long have you known?” he asked, turning his face so he was half in shadow.

She narrowed her eyes. “How long have you been coming at night?”

“I asked you first.”

“You have no right to demand anything of me after you left.” She hated how she choked on the last word.

His face became an icy mask. “I won’t bother you again.”

She snatched her wand and cast a shield on her Floo, making it impenetrable as Draco tried to exit. He grunted, taking out his wand to disassemble the spell. When that didn’t work, he rammed his shoulder into the shield, which knocked him so far back he banged his hip on a side table and cursed.

“I assume you’ve done the same to the door,” he gritted out.

Hermione just raised her eyebrows in challenge.

“The windows are still an option,” he muttered.

“Oh, come off it, Draco. You’ve always been a coward, but this is low even for you.”

“Let me out,” he barked, and oh, she should’ve been afraid of his shaking hands and storming eyes, but it thrilled her to know she still had an effect on him. He was still the arrogant boy who’d cornered her in an alcove all those years ago and proved with his fingers and tongue that he was the only one for her.

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you,” she admitted delicately, afraid she would shatter if he rejected her again.

“Don’t,” he snarled.

“You’re so arrogant, you know that? You call me a know-it-all, but you don’t realise that you’re exactly the same. You… you assume that you know what I want. You assume that someone else could make me happy, that you’re not good enough to be with me. But what you don’t understand is that loving you was never about variables. It’s not an equation or a Potion's recipe. Why can’t it just be that I love you because you’re the only person who’s made me feel this way?”

“Damn your love, Hermione!” He was trembling, glowering at her like he wanted to hurt her. To love her. They were one and the same.

She didn’t hesitate as she strode forward. “I know you still love me. Stop making excuses because you’re afraid.”

“Stop,” he ordered. Begged.

She didn’t.

His composure crumbled and he looked at her with an electric intensity that made her shiver. His gaze shifted to her healed jaw, agonised. “They hurt you because of me.”

“Draco,” she said calmly, close enough to take in his shuddered breath. “It wasn’t your fault.”

He shook his head. “I promised myself you would never be hurt in my presence again after what happened to you in the manor. And it was my fault again—”

“I was only hurt because I got in the way,” she said fiercely. The men who had attacked him in broad daylight had to go through Hermione first. And they did. But it wasn’t his fault.

He didn’t make it two steps before she reached him. The soft intake of breath was all the permission she needed as she stood up on her toes and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, kissing him, imprinting her want, her love, so deeply into his bones he’d never get rid of her.

He neither deepened the kiss nor did he pull away, but Hermione knew she had him when their eyes locked and she saw the devouring want swallowing his irises.

“You slept in my chair every night,” he mused, palming her cheek.

Hermione leaned into his touch, inhaling deeply. “I missed your scent.”

He buried his face in her neck and lifted her by the backs of her thighs. “You’re not the only one, Granger,” he said, resigned, carrying her towards her—their—room.

—

The next morning, she didn’t question why she wasn’t in Draco’s armchair. She only burrowed deeper in the arms of her clockmaker, the gears of her heart whirring in a pleasant rhythm at his affixing touch.

#dramione #dhr #dhr fanfiction #draco malfoy #hermione granger #my writing

93 notes · View notes

themultifandomgal · 8 months

Note

Possibly one with Dr Halstead please where he realises his gf is pregnant before she does because he knows and recognises the symptoms very early on and he waits for her to realise and tell him and when she does, he's like "I know baby, I realised ages ago"

Or or, maybe he suggests he thinks she's pregnant and she's like "no I'm not, don't be silly" and he gets her a test and acts smug when it's positive

Idk, whatever you think

Will Halstead- Known For A While

I loved it this much I will be doing one for Will and one for Connor. Both imagines will be very similar though.

Trigger warning- emetophobia (talks about feeling sick and being sick)

Will and YN have been married for only 3 months after dating for 4 years. Of course the topic of pregnancy and babies had come up and they both knew they would like a baby at some point but they haven't been actively trying.

Recently YNs breasts have been tender but she is due for her period and it's not unusual for her breasts to grow and be sore, she also has a day before her period where she feels nauseous and a bit faint.

This morning YN wakes up feeling sick. Groaning she sits up and rubs the sleep from her eyes 'that seafood medley I had last night must not have agreed with me at all' YN thinks to herself

"Baby" Wills gruff voice pulls YN out of her thoughts "what are you doing awake?"

"Think the sea food was off. I'm gonna go grab some water, you want me to make you a coffee?"

"No, I'll get up with you" slowly YN gets out of bed and makes her way downstairs to the kitchen, but the urge to throw up overcomes her and she rushes off to the bathroom. Within seconds Will is by her side rubbing her back

"Shit. You think I got food poisoning?"

"Not sure. Why don't we get you back into bed see how you feel later" YN throws up once again but now she feels better

"I actually feel a lot better"

"Really?"

"Yeah. Maybe I just needed to get it out of my system"

"Huh. Well I still think you should have a bed day and rest. I'll bring up some water"

Throughout the day YN stays in bed while Will waits on her hand and foot.

That was a month ago and YN's missed her period and thrown up a lot, she's also started crazing weird foods so after talking to her friend Natalie, YN has decided she should take a pregnancy test. After reading the instructions and peeing on the stick YN waits 5 minutes before looking.

2 lines

Positive!

YN excitedly runs back to the store to find a bag to put the test in. She also decides on getting some cute baby socks and a hate. While in the store YN bumps into Jay and Hailey, her brother and sister in law. YN quickly puts what she has in her hands behind her back

"Whatcha got there?" Hailey asks smiling

"Nothing" Jay moves around her to quick for her to know what he's doing. He gasps seeing what she has in her hands

"Are you pregnant?"

"Yes, but Will doesn't know yet, so when he tells you can you please act surprised?"

"Of course. Congratulations" Jay pulls YN into a hug before letting her go pay for the items.

Back at home YN puts the pregnancy test in to the small gift bag with the socks and hat. She then makes dinner for them both for when Will gets home from work.

"Hey baby I'm home"

"Hey" YN rushes over to her husband smiling wrapping her arms around his neck then placing a kiss to his lips

"Woah what's got you so happy"

"I made us dinner. Come see" YN drags Will to their dining room

"YN this is...."

"Want a drink?" YN asks

"Yeah, just a soda"

"No beer again? You feeling ok?" YN asks chuckling

"Yeah yeah, just not feeling like drinking"

"Ok soda it is" YN leaves the dinning room to grab them both a drink, but also picking up the bag. Placing the bag behind her back she carries 2 sodas into the dinning room with one hand. Will take one off her

"What's behind your back?"

"I got you a present"

"A present?" Will smiles "what for?"

"Just because I love you" YN shrugs. She hands Will the bag. He opens it up and laughs taking out the baby hat and then the pregnancy test. YN frowns not understanding why her husband is laughing

"Babe this isn't a prank or something. I'm actually pregnant"

"No I know. It's just I've known for a while. Probably a month or so"

"What? And you didn't think to tell me?"

"Wanted to see how long it would take you. I saw the early signs most people probably would chalk down to period or bugs, bit like you"

"Oh.... are you happy?"

"God course I'm happy baby" Will gets up and moves over to YN hugging her from behind "we're going to have a baby"

"We're going to have a baby" YN repeats smiling.

#one chicago imagine #one chicago #chicago med #chicago med imagine #will halstead x reader #will halstead imagine #will halstead x you #will halstead x yn #will halstead #will halstead x wife

247 notes · View notes

ezziefae · 3 months

Text

Part 3 THE PRISONER’S THRONE PROLOGUE (SPOILERS)

the link for the prologue is in part 1!

I HOPE I WASN’T THE ONLY ONE WHO THOUGHT THAT OAK WAS GONNA PULL OUT A PREGNANCY TEST FROM THE BAG. I swear, as soon as i read the part about a Walgreens bag i knew that something was about to be revealed about Jude. In this part Oak says that he hopes he isn’t the reason that jude is not having kids, and even if he isn’t, he feels like he’s in the mix. (Shocked) Oak really wants them to have children, and so far it looks like cardan would be a great father. When this book comes out we will find out what decisions Jude and Cardan have made about that. If they don’t have kids, i’m fine with that, and if they do have kids i’m also fine with that.

Oh yea cardan is very suspicious of Oak, and he has good reasons. And the part about jurdan forgiving Hyacinthe for almost murdering Cardan? I’m surprised he wasn’t executed yet.

Jude blames herself for not executing Lady more when she had the chance, now imagine how she feels about wren now that she had Oak imprisoned? Jude will have absolutely NO MERCY on anyone that crosses her path in this book. She thinks she made huge mistake letting lady nore live and she won’t make that mistake again. Jude will definitely come to the citadel to kill Wren, holy crap.

Cardan bringing up the snake AGAIN, like man your wife is TRAUMATIZED. and it’s shows.

the snake could’ve been a huge impact to her decision making in the end of TQON. She exiled Madoc, made lady nore swear fealty to wren, and abolished wrens tittle of queen (letting her go free without punishment) Maybe getting Cardan back made her feel the need to be merciful to others.

(SCREAMING) You’re honor, I love them. Cardan is literally the best book love interest, you cannot change my mind on that.

we were FOOLED, the first quote was a snippet that was revealed by hotkeybooks on tik tok, and i thought it was directed at OAK. But the fact that it was actually for JUDE makes it even better.

BUT GUYS!! LIKE ARE YOU SERIOUS??? THEYRE SO ADORABLE I CANTT!!

The “That you’re terrifying? I adore it” part AHH

it’s the sweet tender loving moment between them that make me go insane. i’m gonna go cry now

So madoc has been in contact with the former falcon? as in he’s been speaking to Hyacinthe? Could that mean that madoc ordered him to murder the high king? Oak mentions that if he were truly responsible that he would cut hyacinthe’s throat himself. So Oak doesn’t know why he attempted to murder Cardan..HMMMM. There’s so much we don’t know

So this is what made Oak set off to his journey. And now we know why Oak feels that Cardan might hates him. We know that for now.

Reminder that The Prisoner’s Throne comes out next month!! start re-reading the folk of the air/the stolen heir !!

#SUPER EXCITED AND HAPPY #I LOVE JURDAN #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #holly black #the folk of the air #the stolen heir #the cruel prince #oak greenbriar #elfhame #the prisoners throne #jurdan #suren oak #tfota #the wicked king #queen wren #queen suren #oakwren

86 notes · View notes

doverstar · 3 months

Text

A paltry 3 people have asked me to expand on my opinion that Clara (who I like) is bad for the Doctor, so here I go below.

Strap in, this will be long. I disliked Clara back when her tenure was happening live, but upon rewatching the show now, with my husband, I completely changed my mind and grew to really appreciate her and cried when she died. I like Clara. But I came to this conclusion you’re about to read during that rewatch. In a nutshell, Clara and the Doctor’s relationship is unhealthy. Stop wait let me explain-

*hands you the nutshell* First. The show itself acknowledges that this Doctor/companion relationship is something unprecedented and ugly and bad for both of them towards the end. Why? Is it Clara? YES AND NO children. Clara as a companion, personality-wise, is not any different or special than many Classic Who companions, and Jenna Coleman is ridiculously likeable as Clara. I know Clara is The Impossible Girl (because Moffat can’t write 100% ordinary people), and I know she has met all of the Doctors up to Twelve at least once, but take away her decision to throw herself into his timeline – take away the fact that the Master literally orchestrated events so that Clara and the Doctor would travel together because their personalities would create something dangerous and unhealthy in the end – and Clara herself really is just a twenty-something who wants to travel and acts like she’s the coolest person in the room. So Clara herself on the surface wasn’t the catalyst for the relationship becoming unhealthy. At least not the way she was written in the beginning. At first, it’s the Doctor making big Red Flag decisions. And I say that with so much love towards Matt Smith’s Doctor, who is dearly missed in these trying times. The Doctor meets the first version of Clara (from his perspective) as a barmaid/nanny in 20th century London. She’s exceptional (and unnecessarily flirty because Moffat can’t write women who don’t lust after the protagonist) and the Doctor invites her to travel with him. This is huge because the Doctor has just spent who-knows-how-long mourning the Ponds, who he was not ready to lose and who he had grown increasingly afraid of losing before he lost them. He sits on a cloud and has sworn off of travelling or helping anyone because he is that sick of losing people. He’s hurting and he doesn’t want to go through something like that again. The Ponds were just the latest in a very long line of lost people—remember, directly before Amy and Rory, the Doctor had to say goodbye to Donna, Martha, Wilf, Mickey, Jackie, Jack Harkness, Sarah Jane Smith oh my goodness, and Rose Tyler. And then he loses the Ponds. It’s agony. And it just keeps happening to him over and over again, and the Eleventh Doctor is especially vulnerable because he’s so tender-hearted and raw from Tennant’s losses, and this is the first time he’s lost companions with this face. The Eleventh Doctor is literally described by Moffat as the incarnation of the Doctor who chooses to forget. He’s consistently not addressing things like Gallifrey, the Time War, Rose, Donna, Martha, etc. When he’s reminded of them, the only thing he really reacts with is a strained admission of guilt (Let’s Kill Hitler and The Doctor’s Wife, anyone?). Eleven does not focus on what he has lost and worked really, really, selfishly-at-times hard to preserve the safety of the Ponds in particular. And then he loses them and throws a Doctor pity party on a cloud in a top hat.

Enter Nanny Clara, and she reminds him of what he’s missing and how things should be and helps him get his mojo back. Great, good. But she also reminds him of this one chick in the Dalek Asylum who begged the Doctor for help and was already dead. And the Doctor not only loves a mystery, but hates losing (losing people in particular). So he invites this Clara to come away with him and begin his never-ending adventure all over again, because she seems perfect for the job. And then she dies. Just like Oswin the crazy Dalek. Just like Amy and Rory, and the DoctorDonna, and Rose Tyler on the list of fatalities during the incident at Canary Wharf. Like Adric. But the Doctor doesn’t give up and pout in the 20th century this time. Instead, he gets determined to figure out what is connecting Nanny Clara and Dalek Clara, and determined to find a version of this mystery girl who can travel with him and not die this time. Third time’s the charm.

He finds Clara Oswald in the present, saves her life, freaks her out with his desperation to befriend her, and then she finally comes away with him. It’s played incredibly sweet specifically because it’s the Doctor trying to entice a companion and working for it, because he’s already seen she’s the one—twice—and is determined to keep her. This is an inversion of what usually happens, which is that the companion has to prove themselves worthy of the position to the Doctor during a meet-cute adventure. Classy. Fun. But we see from that point forward that the Doctor is kind of…weirdly obsessed with Clara. And not just because she’s appeared as three different-but-the-same people in his life lately, but because he’s the man who forgets and he lost people and never deals with that, and now he has this girl who he’s been unable to save twice before and he wants to make sure that doesn’t happen again. What’s worse, Clara becomes “the ultimate companion”, saving the Doctor throughout all his lifetimes by jumping into his timeline so she’s technically companion to all of him at one point. This is bad because not only is it not fair (as the gamers call it, it’s OP, yes I’m hip with the kids) it solidifies to the Doctor that she is the culmination of all his past failures in companion tenures.

She’s not the ultimate companion; she’s the ultimate do-over.

He’s obsessed with keeping Clara safe. He’s obsessed with keeping her with him. It’s not because Clara is this gorgeous, super-special, Not Like Other Girl(s). It’s not because he’s madly in love with her (though Moffat wants repeatedly to be able to imply that without properly saying it because he can’t write a female who is not in lust with the protagonist, hey let go of my soapbox I’m using that-). It’s not even because he lost two Claras previously and he feels really bad about that. It's because he’s projecting every single failure to keep a companion onto this one girl. The Doctor is trying so hard not to be controlled by the circumstances around him. He is trying so hard to keep this one, just this one, with him this time that he kind of turns into a withdrawal maniac when she’s in danger or choosing to do anything other than travel with him. The Master (Missy) orchestrated events so that Clara and the Doctor would be able to travel together because it was obvious the two of them would destroy each other in the end. The Doctor was such a person (Eleven) at such a time in his long life that could not stand the idea of losing one more friend and would do anything to keep history from repeating itself. He has to have Clara. He can’t quit Clara. She’s all of them. She’s everyone. And poor Clara—Clara is great, but being with the Doctor brings out only the worst in her. The woman is obsessed with herself. She was better off before he came around! Keeping pace with the Doctor, traveling the universe with him, feeling like she had something with him no one else could touch—all of that inflated her sense of importance; she has to be special. She has to be in control. She’s bossy and confident and as long as the Doctor is around, she’s the most incredible human being in her species and he is lucky to have her. That’s how he makes her feel—because it’s obvious he can’t let her go. (“Traveling with you made me feel really special.”) And worse, Clara can’t let him go—but not even specifically the Doctor. The Doctor, to Clara, is only as valuable as he makes her feel. It’s very sad because the two of them are kind of convinced they’re best friends and that’s why they’re together, but that’s not it. They’re not best friends. They’re toxic.

(Best friends do not trick other best friends, lie to them, threaten their way of life and only home to get their boyfriends back and then say “I’m sorry but I’d do it again”. Best friends do not notice that their best friend is there for them in spite of that line of action and then still disregard their best friend’s safety and needs in order to get what they themselves want above all else. Death in Heaven, I hate you.) And! Clara was so rattled by Eleven changing into Twelve. The sweet young man who flirted with her and made her feel so romantically important was gone, now there’s this grisly old fella who is rude to her and makes disparaging personal remarks about her physical appearance, and who doesn’t like hugs. But they’re not done. Because now the relationship has changed even further—we went from “he likes me and he should because I am Important” and “she’s staying with me and she should because I am gonna keep her safe and it won’t be like last time(s) and that’s why she’s special, that’s why she’s Impossible” to “I’m with him because he needs me and because I am Important like he is” and “she’s staying with me and she should because I am gonna keep her safe and she’s still special and she’s still Impossible and I can’t lose her no matter what”.

Clara is controlling and the Doctor is controlling. Missy would have you believe the Doctor won’t be controlled, but that’s just another form of control. The Doctor can’t stop travelling with Clara. Twelve will not let her rest, Twelve will not let her die. Clara will not stay home, Clara will not put anyone or anything else before herself, before traveling and saving the day and feeling special. In fact, it’s gotten to the point where the Doctor treats Clara with such reverence, she actually believes she’s 100% his equal and should be him. That was not a typo. I did not say she should be like him. I said she thinks she should be him. It gets worse and worse as time goes on. Clara thinks she can be the Doctor. She can travel anywhere, she can do whatever she wants, and she will always win. Because she’s important. Because she’s special. She doesn’t realize that she can’t, and that that’s not who the Doctor is anyway. And the Doctor watches Clara get eaten up by this addiction to travel, addiction to heroics. Clara loses Danny and that’s her last tether to normal life. It’s sad because Danny was twice the man anybody expected him to be and he was almost there, almost good enough for Clara to stay and be safe with. But the Doctor and time and space are a tough act to follow, and when Danny died, Clara felt she was owed better. She wasn’t angry because Danny was young and she loved him and she wanted better for him. She was angry because as a time traveling hero, she deserved to have her boyfriend alive and not hit by an ordinary car in the middle of an ordinary day on Earth. (But she wouldn’t have stayed with him anyway, and she wasted so much time with him treating him like he wasn’t special enough and then it was too late. If the Doctor had not been part of the equation, treating her like she hung the stars and making her believe it, they could have been happy. She could have been okay.)

More adventures, more close calls. At this point everything likeable about Clara in the past has faded away because she is just not the same person anymore. She’s ruined. And it’s her fault, and it’s the Doctor’s fault. Clara isn’t addicted to travel or heroics. Now she’s addicted to feeling important. She’s addicted to being special. And she needs to feel that so badly that she decides she is the Doctor and can do what he does and ignores the danger and ignores the rules and the risks and what it might do to the Doctor to lose her, and she faces the stupid raven. This girl legit dies a painful, scary death because she thought she could do whatever she wanted, control every situation, and it couldn’t possibly turn out badly because she’s Clara Oswald, the Impossible Girl. Did the Doctor ever give her any idea that that wasn’t true? Didn’t he worship the ground she marched on? She dies for it. And the Doctor, bless his poisoned hearts, cannot handle it. No way, it is not happening again. Not Clara! He’s avoided her death every other time. It’s not even about Clara anymore—Clara is actually a pretty rotten friend to the Doctor at this point; he’s nothing to her, not really, just a means to an end (and you can tell because when push comes to shove, she will choose herself and time and space over him, and over any sense at all, but if anyone asks, that’s her best friend and do you know why? because it’s very special to be the Doctor’s best friend). It’s not about her, it’s about them. About Adric, and River, and Rose, and Donna, and Tegan and Susan and Ace and Vicki. It’s about Ian and Barbara and Wilfred Mott. Not this time, universe! Not this time, Clara! "I have a duty of care." "Which you take very seriously, I know." Twelve goes through the most contrived, horrendous, comically-lengthened torture Moffat can think of (Heaven Sent) and comes out on the other side only to bring Clara back from the dead. Think of that. The woman is actually very long dead at this point and the Doctor braves literal Gallifrey to pull her out of the moment before the end. He breaks every single rule he has ever, ever had. And he does it violently, are you telling me for real that Clara is the best companion for him? She drives him to do right, to be the greatest he can be? She helps, she brings him back to who he’s always tried to be? No she doesn’t. She drives him to total depraved madman status because they can’t quit each other, and no, not the cutesy quippy Madman With A Box type of madman.

What makes Clara so different from all the other people the Doctor had to lose and who remained lost? Nothing at all. Nothing except that the Doctor decided this one isn’t going anywhere. Because she is every companion to him. This poor woman has a sack full of the Doctor’s past-companion baggage tied to her back but to her it feels light, because he treats it outwardly like a pedestal. So he “brings her back” and she figures out what he’s done and what he went through to do it, and they both learn that their relationship is actually so toxic that together, they would destroy the universe just to have what they want. Because that’s what they bring out in each other. The Doctor has to keep Clara safe, and Clara has to be special. They’re so unhealthy it affects everything around them, to the point where the Time Lords literally have a name for their destructive dynamic in their prophecies called the Hybrid (go lie down, Moffat). And the Master knew that because Time Lord…stuff…and deliberately ensured that Clara and the Doctor get together.

Luckily the Doctor is still, somewhere, miraculously, himself—so he recognizes at last that this is going too far and it’s bad, it’s all bad. The only solution, because he still can’t just return Clara to her fate, is to wipe her memory (hello Donna) of him so that they aren’t together but she also doesn’t have to die. So that he still doesn’t have to deal with losing people. And then the very worst part, writing-wise, happens. Clara complains and decides she must be allowed her memories, she’s entitled to them (too special to lose her memories!) but goodie for her, she doesn’t lose them. The Doctor, instead, loses his memories of her. Now, this is ultimately a good thing for him because of the horse I beat to death over there, don’t make eye contact, but—how sad is it that he still has to lose? That he still can’t keep someone, even after all that carnage? The healing process is beginning and he’ll be a better man than ever after this, but take a moment to mourn because that really sucks for him.

Okay here’s the worst part—Clara lives. And not only does Clara live, Clara lives forever. Clara is immortal. Clara gets her own Tardis. Clara gets her own immortal companion! (Ashildr.) Who learned something? Anyone? Not Clara! Who grew as a person around here? No one? Not Clara! Poor Clara Oswald, who started out nicely enough and likeable enough, at least on level with Classic Who companions, is ruined in the end. She gets exactly what she wants. She’s the Ultimate Companion! She’s met all the Doctors. He even fancied her at one point, well, how could he not? She didn’t die, she didn’t learn anything, she didn’t even really grow, she just got worse. Danny died and the Doctor lost, but Clara got to keep her memories, lose her mortality, and gain her own infinite time travelling machine. She became the Doctor. Yippee. Neither of them were made better by the other’s company. Rose Tyler said more than once, at least in three different ways, that the Doctor’s influence, that the opportunity to travel in time and space and help, brings out the extraordinary qualities ordinary people already have. He taps into their potential to be better, even better than him sometimes. The human factor, I call it. And they inspire him to be better, which is important for someone who is essentially immortal and can essentially go anywhere and do anything he likes. Wilfred said it, too, that Donna was better with the Doctor. But the codependency, the noxious way the Doctor and Clara interacted with each other—their whole relationship—it’s devoid of that improving quality. It wasn’t at first, at least not on Clara’s side, but that’s what it turned out to be. At least Moffat acknowledges that in Hell Bent, but he does it more in a way that is trying to communicate to you that that’s how deep and special the Doctor and Clara’s relationship is, isn’t it so important, isn’t it the best companion/Doctor relationship ever? Isn’t she hot, isn’t he whipped? Have you ever seen such devotion? Gag me. He doesn’t say it like it’s a bad thing. He’s just trying to win the 60-year-long companion race. And Clara and the Doctor both suffer for it.

I still like Clara. I blame the writing entirely for how things turned out, because I genuinely, really enjoyed her this last rewatch, and I wish that she’d met a better end. I wish she’d stayed with Danny and figured out what Danny was trying to tell her all along—that normal life is precious and worth it, and worth giving up the big sparkly universe for if you find someone else to live for besides yourself. I wish she’d sacrificed herself to save the Doctor in the present, not just throughout his past, because she proved that at one point she was capable of that. I wish she’d come to terms with the fact that she couldn’t control everything, couldn’t have what she wanted every time, and then chose to learn from that and use what she could control for the benefit of others (including the Doctor). I wish she’d gotten out the way Martha had gotten out. And I really, really wish the Doctor hadn’t had to prolong the pain he was always going to feel when someone else had to say goodbye. Anyway, that’s the essay a trifling three lovely people asked me for. Not really an essay, just word vomit. If you read it all, please let me know what you think! I could be wrong.

67 notes · View notes

saey707 · 11 months

Note

YO I HAVE BEEN COUNTING DOWN THE DAYS TO BE ABLE TO SEND A REQUEST

I notice you enjoy writing for the beloved ninjas... Do you have any headcanons of Shen, Zed, or Akali? (´･ω･`)

✿ Prompt: Akali, Shen, and Zed as your lover ✿

♡ champion focuses: akali, shen, zed ♡ tw: none! ♡ Gender-neutral reader

Author's Note: Anon, hello! Your request is in my hands! <3 I didn't include (Y/N) in this one and it will just be generalized ideas of what kind of lovers each nin would be if they had a relationship with reader! ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈ ♡) I hope you enjoy~

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼ ✿ ✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Index ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

Shen (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

Akali (૭ ｡•̀ ᵕ •́｡ )૭

Zed ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻)

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼ ✿ ✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Shen ♡

Of the three, Shen takes the longest time to warm up to the idea of letting someone into his heart. Because he has been hurt and betrayed by so many people he held dear to him, it is difficult for him to accept the love of another.

But, of the three, Shen would be the most protective. He'll do everything possible to assure your safety, especially with Khada Jhin and Zed on the loose...

When Shen begins to warm up to the sudden affection and warmth you provide him in your relationship, he'll definitely sink into it. How long has it been since someone has taken care of him? Told him that they adore him and love him? The years of deficiency from something so vital are going to have him longing for more of your touch and love!

Despite how busy work keeps him, Shen will try his best to always make time for you. He can't stand the idea of you getting hurt, or worse, killed by an azakana! It is why he would vow to purge all of them and send them back to the spirit realm where they belong.

On his off days, when things are particularly slow for the Kinkou, Shen will spend his time taking you to local taverns to eat! If there is one thing to know about Shen, food is his love language. He knows all the best spots, and will take you to them!

Shen is a big boy. He absolutely loves how small you are in his arms, and how you can't even wrap your own around him.

Shen would give the best massages. Though, he would be hesitant to accept them from you, should you wish to reciprocate.

He'll happily include you in his hobbies... That is if you are interested in meditation, gardening, and learning how to make different kinds of soups.

Shen will teach you how to fight. As much as you probably will come to hate it, given how antiquated his teachings are, he wants you to be able to defend yourself when he is away on advanced missions- In other words, tasks he doesn't want to go on anymore because he fears for your wellbeing every day he is away from home.

His favorite spot to kiss you is on the back of your neck, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

It may be difficult for Shen to say "I love you", but just being aware of his love language is enough to remind you that he really does care and cherish you deeply past the hardened exterior of his heart.

Akali ♡

Akali has always considered herself a lone wolf, especially because her upbringings taught her that if she wants things done properly, she has to do it herself. But when it comes to you... She doesn't mind the company.

Of the three, Akali is the most difficult to coming around to having a tender relationship. It's difficult for her to show strong emotions. But eventually she will come around, it's only a matter of time until she begins to express her feelings, than channeling and repressing them. So long as you are patient and are willing to listen to her, everything she feels so deeply for will begin to pour out.

Your relationship started off more... Physical, than it did emotional. Frankly, Akali feared that she would grow attached to you with the amount of nights she spent with you. But she wouldn't take back any of those nights for a second- Even the late night talks and aftercare you always provided her.

When it comes to your relationship with her, Akali is the most likely of the three to be the most possessive! Even though she doesn't outwardly show it sometimes, she doesn't want to share you with anyone else, and if anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, consider them dead. But you know she's possessive, especially when she clings to your arm when she feels threatened.

On date nights, the first thing Akali does is take you to get ramen! It doesn't take her long to devour 3 bowls, while you are still stuck on your first one... However, some nights she'll share a bowl with you! And when you both get the same ramen noodle, she'll gladly connect your lips to hers with a gentle kiss~

As much as she hates leaving to fulfill missions and assignments, Akali knows she'll always have a place to go back to and feel her most vulnerable: Your home.

And when she does return home, you're always sure to prepare a warm bath for her and a nice cup of tea, followed by a good cuddle session. Such a routine is enough to give something that Akali can look forward to, and believe her, she looks forward to it.

She isn't the best with giving back, and generally doesn't know what kinds of gifts people like.

But when she does come up with something to give back to you it definitely is a pleasant surprise!

Matching tattoos in Weh'le is something you can look forward to when you're some years into your relationship with Akali!

As much as Akali wants to believe she is a stoic warrior with a blade, she feels so many deep feelings for you. Feelings that she's never felt for anyone else before.

Zed ♡

As much as Zed is made out to be the great antagonist of Ionia, he really would be the hardest to love and the most tender when it comes to showing his affection, out of the three.

He knows love is not a weakness and that it can be a reason for people to keep fighting. Master Kusho taught him otherwise: He taught Zed to repress his emotions and, essentially, to become a robot. "Only then could he be a real leader," his old Master said.

But Kusho was wrong about him. Zed can't stop himself from having strong feelings.

Zed is a two-for-one package! He doesn't mind performing duties around the monastery such as cooking and cleaning, but that doesn't mean he will fall short of providing for you and protecting you from potential threats. And believe him: The Yanlei always has threats...

He loves cooking and even excels at it! His favorite foods to make are Nagano soba and soup dumplings. And because he enjoys making these dishes he tends to make them a lot... Hope you aren't too picky about variety!

There is never an off day for Zed, but there is always enough time for you: Although not ideal, he'll let you sit with him (or on him~) while he tends to his armor and weaponry.

Nights are spent cuddling up to one another. This is the only time Zed will really let his guard down and feel his most vulnerable with you. His favorite thing to do is nudge his head against the crevice of your neck, allowing your fingers to tangle through his hair until he falls asleep.

He doesn't like leaving you alone, even though he knows full and well you can protect yourself.

When he is about to depart for a mission, he always feels like he isn't doing enough to assure you he'll be back and that he'll find a way to bring you something back (despite the incessant showering of affection).

While you can't be entirely romantic with a busy leader like Zed, that doesn't stop you from knowing deep down he loves you and cherishes you unlike any other being on earth.

You know Zed feels with his entire heart and he will hide it just enough to not let his guard down.

Zed won't ever stop reminding you how strongly he loves you. He won't ever let you feel otherwise. You give him strength. You give him a reason to fight. You make him feel like he is capable of giving and receiving love, even though he's a ninja.

#saeybaewrites #headcanons #request #lol #league of legends x reader #shen lol #zed lol #akali lol #shen league of legends #zed league of legends #akali league of legends #x reader #shen x reader #zed x reader #akali x reader #lol x reader #shen lol x reader #zed lol x reader #akali lol x reader

154 notes · View notes

blueberrypancakesworld · 5 months

Text

John Stone - Yandere - You will be mine - Part.4

warning : blood, murder, kissing, some minor smutish things, use of a knife, torture, mind games, stockholm syndrome, kidnapping

Summary : His angel hurt and without wings he had her with him and it seems she understood him, his love she would become his...after one last test of a trial if she really was. But the end the end he knew would end in blood one way or another.

Info : So the last Part of this four part series honestly I never would have guessed that you all like it so much and a BIG Thank you for all the support guess you Costas Mandylor fans love him almost a little too much ;) Me too so as always have fun reading. Part.1, Part.2, Part.3

(gif by @angels-holocaust )

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

°He had her, his angel, he finally had the light of the world, hope and his wife. Had her with him in his house and would never let her go again - why should he? She loved him, had stretched out her arms for him, had kissed him, had longed for his approval like a good woman. And he would give it to her, he would give her everything in one last act.

°An act that would be her test, as he had proved in the war she would have to prove to herself that he had chosen the right one. That behind her angelic presence was not a wretched cow but his angel. About a week had passed since her injury and he knew that during this time everyone would be looking for her or not. Because nobody was looking for a young girl in any town who suddenly appeared out of nowhere and disappeared again. Nobody was looking for her and that was an advantage, he realized.

°But in time he had seen that she had changed, even if he still saw the fear in her eyes when he had a knife in his hand, used his chainsaw or left her, it was fear that commanded her. But his reassuring words when he took her in his arms, pulled her onto his lap or pulled her close to him in bed, he could feel her slowly snuggling up to him.

°As she slowly got used to him, she began to love him and even though he knew she would sooner or later, she had no choice. With her leg still hurting from time to time she took the pills and initially needed a crutch, he loved to see her like this. When she had to admit to herself that he was the only thing she had left. That she was nothing without him she had to accept it and with each passing day he knew she loved him more and more.

°She watched him when he set new traps outside, but she didn't hate him, on the contrary. When he gave her a wink or a smile, he saw his angel again. How she waved back to him with a reserved smile and her cheeks turned slightly pink when he chopped wood for the fireplace outside. She had even baked him some cookies one day when he came back and his worry turned into a warm smile. ,,My angel, I knew you could do it," he had said to her as he had tasted one of the cookies, his hands gently wrapped around her waist and pulled her close.

°Seeing the praise brought a soft smile to her lips, he knew she was trying to make it up to him. He ran his hand up her side and gently over her cheek, his thumb tracing her lips before leaning down to engage her in a rewarding kiss. He could feel how she wanted to pull away at first, almost as if she was ashamed, not knowing what to do. My angel, I have truly torn out all your wings, he thought and ran his hand over her back, pressing her against him, leaving her no chance to curse. He had her pinned between the kitchen counter and himself while he pushed his leg between hers. Felt the little jolt go through her body as she inevitably pressed her middle against his leg.

°She was so infinitely inexperienced and tender with him as if she was afraid of herself, her own body for what it was capable of. ,,Shhh I'm here...just let it happen and focus on me, understand?" he asked, murmuring to her, kissing her ear gently to continue kissing his way down her body as he held her in place with a grip that was perhaps too tight for this gentle gesture. Like a warning, a chain wrapped invisibly around her neck, the extension of her collar he could pull to tell her that anything wrong would only mean more pain.

°But his love was his, she allowed it, begging and pleading in a stammering voice for more like a good girl. Ashamed of her love for him and yet she knew he wanted to see more. He wanted to see her trembling fingers wandering over his body, watching her cling helplessly to him as he penetrated her for the first time. Her moans and silent screams traveled through the bedroom as he wiped away the tears on her cheeks. Engaging her in a kiss and seeing her shame when he mentioned the cross she was looking at. He loved to see how he played her against herself. Her fingers scratching his back, praising him and asking for more when it was okay. Her way this...purity. She was perfect. Perfect for him and for what was to come.

°She trusted him, had entrusted him with her purity and virginity, she would trust him with anything, simply anything. Herself, her life, her soul, everything. "And I will take everything, simply everything, and make you into a new angel" he thought as he watched her sleeping form, saw how she held onto him lightly, felt the warmth that emanated from her as he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. He felt her calm heartbeat and still saw the many colorful spots and markings in the faint moonlight coming in through the windows. He gently ran his fingers over her, felt her move slightly, felt the pain and yet. But she was his. At last.

°Until he knew it was time to take the final test because as much as he was the loving husband, the soldier was that other side of him that let him know he had to kill again. He had to cleanse the world of the wrong ones who deserved it. He said goodbye to his beloved knowing she would be waiting for him, he had bought her extra wool and knitting needles to pass the time knitting. He could hardly wait to see what she would make for him in the future. ,,I know you'll crochet pretty things," he said and gave her a kiss on the head before giving her one last look and disappearing from the house. He got into his car and headed for the bar where he knew he would see his next victim.

°It took until the evening, but when he had the bitch next to him in the car on the way back, he knew he was ready to go. She wasn't like his beloved, she was unclean, she just threw herself at him and didn't have any decency. She was disgusting in his eyes. She had to die. And when the front door opened, ignoring the words of the others, he listened into the house. From the lack of noise, he concluded that she must have fallen asleep.

°She's so good to me he thought about his beloved as he told the other to go downstairs and she just made a comment and did as he said. ,,Bitch," he muttered as he went into the living room and his intuition was right when he saw her asleep in the armchair in front of the TV. In her eyes, a scarf in his favorite colors shot out. ,,Darling? I have a surprise for you, would you please put on the blindfold?" he asked her and pulled the black piece of fabric out of his pocket. He saw how she was still slightly confused from sleep for a moment and welcomed him before she took the cloth and did as he said.

°Even though she seemed confused, she trusted him enough not to ask any questions. Before he took her by the hand and told her to wait outside the door to the cellar. ,,I'll be right back," he said and gave her a kiss before disappearing into the cellar. Took care of his victim took his photo knowing it was the image of confusion and desperation. Overwhelmed, he strapped her to the metal table, ignoring her cries, pleas and curses, and stuffed a piece of cloth into her mouth. ,,You will keep quiet, do you understand me?" he hissed warningly and saw the uncertain nod of his victim, knowing that she would either break it anyway or do everything she could not to do so. So that he wouldn't kill her.

°Going back upstairs, he saw his angel still standing where he had left her and carefully took her hand. ,,You know, I have a surprise for you. I thought I'd reward you differently today, just you and me...together," he said and helped her down the stairs step by step before leading her ahead of him into the room. He saw his victim trying to say something to make her realize that she was either next or should help her. But she fell silent as he pulled out the knife and made a gesture that was understandable. ,,Here, I have something for you... I'll instruct you and you'll do it," he murmured to his angel and placed the knife in her hand.

°Her fingers gripped the handle and he could almost see her questioning face. But when he stood behind her and let his hands wander over her body, he felt the confusion disappear. She didn't quite know whether she should cut a cake with the knife in her hand, whether he wanted more from her or what was in front of her. But John kissed his way down her neck, praising her for her behavior, and continued to run his hands over her body, knowing that the victim was watching them. Knowing that his beloved had no idea what was happening she pressed herself against him only for him to gently move her forward. ,,Just let me lead you, sweetie," he murmured to her and urged her to keep moving forward until she arrived in front of the victim. The tip of the knife was just in front of the victim's chest.

°It took one thrust, just one, and she would finally share what he was feeling. ,,Jo-John are we alone?" she dared to ask, uncertainty in her voice as she heard the suppressed weeping of the woman in front of her. But when his hand gently closed around her neck from behind and the other went to her hands, her shaky inhalation seemed to make any worries disappear. She just melted away in his hands and he knew that he had hung strings on his angel's wings.

°,,Now grasp the grip tighter darling...and do it" he demanded and slipped away from her. My angel stretch out your wings and do what I tell you it went through his head as he saw an uncertain twitch go through her body. She wanted to do it, she wanted to please him and he appreciated that she knew what lay ahead of her. Still blindfolded, she couldn't see the woman and to his surprise, she reached out a hand, shakily feeling for the other. He could feel the fear running through the victim and yet his favorite seemed to realize something.

,,Did...did you...kiss him?" she asked the victim, grabbing the piece of cloth and pulling it out of her mouth. However, her pleas and demands for help were met with silence. Instead, she lifted the knife and carefully placed it on the skin. ,,Did you kiss him?" she asked again and heard the shaky ,,Ye-Yes". One word, a confirmation, and John watched eagerly to see what his angel was up to and what good this information would do her. He was about to step back to her and instruct her to kill the bitch himself when his angel took off his blindfold. Resisting his command, he didn't really want her to see the dark chaos, the blood and the bitch.

°,,How-how...could you? John...was my first...you ruined it...you ruined everything!" she snapped and with one unerring thrust she had sunk the knife into the older woman's chest. She left it in there for a moment, looking at the horror of what she had done, before gripping the handle again and pulling it out. ,,Darling-" John began but was interrupted by the scream that came from the victim again and again as she continued to stab the victim. ,,He's mine and I'm his and you piece of shit are...dead," she said to the older woman and yanked her forward slightly by the hair only to slit her throat with that phrase, the last choked sounds leaving the older one's lips before she let go of the bitch and the victim slumped down, held only by the chains.

°With the bloody knife in her hand and the silence around her, she turned back to John and saw his proud gaze as he looked down at her, smiled closer and gently grasped her bloody hand. He felt her tremble and saw her look shocked at herself, her actions and what she had done. ,,I-I...John I'm sorry I-" his angel stammered as she dropped the knife and it clattered to the floor, the blood that had splattered on her clothes was no longer warm but wet and cold, it was unpleasant and yet for John it was a sight the soldier enjoyed, a sight of law and order, of purity and his heart.

°He gently placed his hand on her cheek and stroked it soothingly, just holding her for a moment. Took in her sweet smell mixed with the metallic scent of blood still coming from the bitch's wounds. A dark grunt escaped as he pulled her firmly and yet gently at the same time. She saw how she needed him, her helpless gaze searching for his guidance, for more recognition of him and his whole self. ,,You did it, you truly are my good girl...I'm proud of you," he murmured before seeing her smile in all her confusion, seeing her pure smile as he kissed her, running his hands over her body, feeling his own arousal and praising her that this sacrifice, this bloodshed was the beginning of everything. It was the beginning of their hunt together...their love together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@librababe99 , @klarise , @c0stass , @alizzzy18 , @slut4hoffman , @magmabayvi , @thewolveswithin , @faultlessheart , @megustadilf , @xmissghoulx , @roman-hoffman , @costashoffman , @mysunfishpeedinmyroom , @agunislover , @oceansrose2002

#john stone #john stone x reader #daddy's girl 2018 #daddys girl 2018 #costas mandylor

48 notes · View notes

checkitoutmikey · 1 year

Text

Star snaps

The boys told you not to wander alone. But you just wouldn’t listen, huh?

Pairing: poly!lost boys x fem!reader

Warnings: blood, gore, near death experience, death, if you love Star you don’t wanna read this, no beta

You didn‘t know what was happening at first.

You were just walking down the beach with only the sound of crashing waves keeping you company. The boys left you a while ago to find a dinner so you had some time for yourself before they come back. Sure, it would be better to stay at Boardwalk, smarter too, but you just weren’t in the mood for carnival music and cloying scent of greesy food. David would give you an earful if he found out. Him and Dwayne always tell how dangerous this place is and to not leave Boardwalk by youself. It seems you were about to prove them right.

At first your brain couldn’t really comprehend why you are suddenly laying on the cold sand, staring at night sky. Then you realized someone was sitting on top of you, crushing you. The wavy brown hair and tinkling of glass beads clued you in.

„Star?“ you choked out in daze.

Her sharp fangs ripping into your throat sent a chill down your spine. She couldn’t be feeding on you, right? She hated the idea of becaming a vampire so why was she drinking your blood? You could hear the sound with discerning clarity. Gulp, gulp, gulp.

You pushed your hands against her shoulders to try and get her off but that only seemed to enrage her. She pressed herself closer to your body. Her palm pushed at your chest so hard you heard something crack. That’s when the true fear sat in.

„Star. Come on, calm down,“ you whispered. Trying to stay cool under the assault of deep seated pain that blossom in you.

She growled viciously and sank het teeth even deeper into your tender neck. With every passing second you could feel the panic rising as you heartbeat became louder and louder in your ears. Flight or fight instinct was a bitch when you knew neither would help in your current situation.

„Please. Star, you don’t wanna do this. Star!“

Dizziness started to set in. Was this it? Would you die like this? What about the boys? Would they be angry? At you? Star? Who would they really blame for this whole mess? You shouldn’t be by yourself, that was on you. And Star couldn’t help her urges. Would they forgive her? Would-

***

David couldn’t remember the last time he panicked. Truly panicked. That primal unhinged emotion that made your heart race and brain shut down.

He just arrived at the Boardwalk with his pack in tow just to find you absent. They left you in front of the ice cream place but you weren’t there. He was about to order his boys to spread out and check your usual spots when he got a whiff of something sweet. Blood. Your blood.

Marko was the first one to snap out of his daze and bolted the way your scent was coming from with the rest of his brothers following close. Dwayne had to grab him, pull him back against his chest to keep him from pouncing on Star and making the whole thing worse. It would help no one to have two viscious vampires fighting so close to you. Paul stayed a bit behind. He whimpered at the sight of your mangled body, it made him sick.

David didn’t even properly register the scene infront of him before he grabbed Star by her hair. He took care not to move her too much, that would just damage you more.

„Star. Let go. Slowly,“ he growled, pushing her head a bit closer to your neck to unhook her fangs gently. The woman snarled in response. She tried to push back but he was like an immovable wall. „Star,“ he repeated and the threat was clear in his voice.

„Fuck! Just let her go Star!“ Marko trashed in Dwayne’s hold. Glowing yellow eyes staring murderously at the half vampire. He would kill her. If David wouldn’t do it, Marko will gladly tear her apart himself.

The seconds tciked by and David knew their time was running out. You were pale and unresponsive. Heartbeat alarmingly slow. While holding Star with one hand he sneaked the other around her jaw and broke it which earned him a pained scream from the women. Paul was there in a flash. He kept her hands away from you just in case she tried to fight for her meal. David moved her head upwards to pull her fangs from your flesh as gently as possible. As soon as she was off of you, he threw her down the beach. In that moment Dwayne released Marko and all hell broke loose. Marko went after Star like rage filled beast that was left out of it’s cage. „Don’t kill her,“ was all Dwayne had to offer before moving closer to you.

Dwayne dropped to his knees next to you but, much like Paul, was too afraid to even touch you. Paul was just standing close by, frantic and teary eyed. He was hugging himself like some scared child. „Are we really doing this?“ he asked but the answer was pretty clear. David gently cupped your face with his hands. By this point you were barely breathing. No way you could speak, much less give consent but that didn’t matter. Even if you didn’t want them to turn you, they would. David would choose pissed off vampire you before dead you any night.

„Marko! Get that bitch over here!“ David didn’t even look over to make sure Marko was doing as he was told and instead he hastily sliced his wrist to feed you his blood. What was presented to him seconds later could barely be described as a person but none of them seemed to care. Star deserved this. She refused to change, she refused to feed safely and now she had to pay for her mistakes. Marko didn’t show her mercy. In his mind she deserved none. By now her face was just a pulp of flesh with blood caked on top of it with matted hair sticking to it in clumps. There was a time when they would welcome her to the family but that sentiment died the moment she laid her claws on you.

Dwayne took over David’s position and gently placed your head on his lap to make it easier for you to swallow the blood. He smoothed down your hair, running his fingers through it to help you calm down as much as he was trying to comfort himself.

Paul was full on sobbing now but kept himself away from the scene. The smell of your blood, the gore, the smell of death drawing closer was getting for him. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this scared. The pure need to help but not knowing how was eating him from the inside. But David would fix this. He had to.

Marko moved closer to his taller brother. He wanted to support him but was too enraged to do anything useful. All that was running through his had were images of tearing the bitch apart. Hurting her some more but he knew she was need for your change. Fitting punishment for her transgression. She will die so you could live. It was fair.

David simply broke Star’s arms so she wouldn’t do anymore damage and pushed her throat close to your mouth. „Come on, love. Drink up. Be one of us.“

#how do you people come up with titles?#ginger snaps? really En?#tlb #the lost boys #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #the lost boys paul #the lost boys marko #the lost boys x reader #Enaris brain goes brrrrrr

364 notes · View notes

pasukiyo · 2 years

Note

Hello hope you had an good day, i would like to ask fro an Steddie "reader Request

I got this idea, there reader went in the rain to Steve. Crying and cold, dripping from the rain as he let her in and get her something warm. She tells him about the break up from here ex, more how he dumped her earlier, telling her how he lost is fellings and ignoring her would do the best. Wich didnt as Steve know she was days on the eage not knowing waht she did wrong. Eddie when went next to her hugging her, joking how he and steve would be better for you. As both had an small crush on here and Steve just want to puch the guy like eddie.Reader say yes to the request from eddie. Later you woud end cnuddeling wich maybe leads to more?

You can change something if its easier, ot the plot. So happy writing and take your time, as good things need their time. :)

𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞.

— steve harrington x f!reader x eddie munson

warnings; angst, smut, unprotected sex

a/n; I ACTUALLY FEEL KIND OF PROUD OF THIS ONE which is rare because i usually feel like my writing is shit lol but! when you sent in this request, i was actually writing something similar so sorry that this wasn’t exactly what you requested! i was in the middle of writing this when you sent it in so i tried to implement some elements of your request in it :)

word count; 4.7k

“oh my god, can we all just agree that you look good in everything you wear?”

she pouted as she eyed herself in steve’s bathroom mirror, soothing the wrinkles on her dress down. steve leaned against the door frame, a hand on his hip as he looked her up and down, eddie standing beside him to join in on admiring her. “that’s what i’m saying. fuck, you can show up in, i don’t know, a towel and he’ll still be the luckiest guy in the joint,” eddie added, and steve cocked an eyebrow at this, sparing a glance over to his friend. “yeah, bet he’d love that,” steve rolled his eyes, turning back to face her when she turned towards them, a small smile creeping upon her lips. “the point we’re trying to make here is, you look good.”

“too damn good,” the corner of eddie’s lips curved up into a smirk as he ambled towards her, his hands resting against her hips. she jolted at his touch, flushing and ducking her head to look anywhere but his eyes. “he’s a lucky guy.”

her heart suddenly began to beat and she tore herself away from him in order to ease the feelings she’d since suppressed for her two friends, choosing to instead gaze at herself in the mirror once again. “i just.. haven’t been on a date in so long. what if he doesn’t even show up?” her voice wavered, her nerves getting the best of her. she could feel a palm rest upon her shoulder, and in the mirror, she could see steve looming like a shadow behind her, his breath warm as it fanned over her ear. “he’d be insane to turn down such an amazing girl like you,” he whispered, her breath hitching at his closeness.

“yeah.. and if he does, he has the two of us to worry about,” eddie beamed, his arm wrapping around her shoulders to give her a brief, tender squeeze. “we got your back, remember?” her heart stuttered in her chest, and she tore her gaze away from them again to instead stare at herself in the mirror.

she absolutely hated when they said things like that— it sounded nice coming from them, too nice. she would always find herself hoping that there really could be something there whenever they spoiled her with compliments, but after so many years of waiting and yearning only for nothing to come out of it, she had no choice but to give it up. she couldn’t waste her days away waiting for one of them— or even both of them— to take a chance on her when she wasn’t ready to take the chance herself, she had to find a way to move on.

which was why she accepted when one of the football players asked her out, despite her having little to no interest in him. the fact that someone was interested in her and actually took a chance on her was more flattering to her than the boy himself.

“..yeah. thanks guys,” she managed a smile, pivoting around on her heel to brave a glance at them. “you’re the best.”

a small silence ensued, one very brief, but one that held meaning, unbeknownst to them. but something was there, and they were much too blind to see.

steve was the first to break the silence, his hands clasping her shoulders to guide her out of the bathroom. “now, you’re going to get out there and have a great time, yeah?” he cocked an eyebrow, and she nodded, her lips curved up into a small smile. “yeah. of course.”

“and if you need anything, you call us, yeah?” eddie added, hands on his hips and his head tilted down. she laughed, “yes, mom, i’ll be sure to call you if i need you.” eddie pouted as he grabbed his van keys, twirling them around his forefinger as she gathered her things, and they followed close behind her heels as she left steve’s bedroom. “hey, we’re just looking out for you!” steve grumbled, giving her a soft fist to the shoulder. “you know i don’t trust those football guys.”

“yeah, probably because you were one, stevie boy,” eddie chuckled as they made their way out of steve’s house and towards eddie’s van. “i was only on the basketball and swim team,” steve replied.

“what’s the difference?”

“guys, come on,” she whined, tugging at the handle of the van door. “i don’t wanna keep him waiting.”

their eyes practically rolled in unison as eddie trudged his way over to the driver’s side door, steve to the passenger side. eddie finally unlocked the van’s doors and she slid herself to the back, resting her elbows against the center console as the two boys slid in as well. her heart thudded against her chest as eddie pushed the key into the ignition, his van’s engine roaring to life.

she didn’t know how to feel— should she feel excited? should she be nervous? or should she be sad that they were letting her go so easily? for as long as she could remember, she’s pined for both of her best friends, only for nothing to come from it. perhaps, this was her attempt to let them go.

as if that was even possible.

the drive to the diner that she and her date agreed to meet at was silent for the most part, with the exception of eddie’s music blasting through the stereo, and steve’s complaints that it was too loud.

“stop being such a little princess, harrington,” eddie said, rolling his eyes, turning the music up louder in spite. she giggled behind her hand— and completely missed the way eddie smiled as he stole glances of her through his rearview mirror, and the way steve’s cheeks flushed at the sound of her laugh, his teeth burrowing into the side of his cheek to suppress his soft grin.

before she even knew it, eddie was pulling the van into the diner’s parking lot, the silence deafening as the vehicle slowed to a stop in front of the building.

“so…” she dared to break it, her palms sweaty as they clasped together. “i guess i should go ahead and go in.”

steve and eddie shared a look before they forced a smile back her way, doing their best to be as encouraging as they could.

“have fun.. just not too much,” steve exclaimed as she hopped out of the van, resting her elbows on the passenger side window, leaning down to beam down at them. “and be careful! it’s supposed to rain later so don’t catch a cold,” eddie pointed a finger at her, and she flushed at his concern.

“don’t worry, mom,” she rolled her eyes at him before turning to steve, “and mom.” steve’s eyebrows furrowed, “mom?” eddie flashed his pearly whites and slammed a palm to his chest, right over his heart, jutting his bottom lip out in a pout. “our little baby is all grown up.”

she giggled behind her hand as steve slapped eddie on the arm, and she sighed— was going on this date even the right choice in the first place when the two men she really wanted were right there?

“i guess i’ll get going,” she smiled, pushing away from the vehicle, exchanging goodbyes as she backpedaled away towards the diner’s entrance.

she almost couldn’t bring herself to turn away.

even as she slipped into the diner and grabbed a table for two, and even as eddie eventually pulled away from the diner— her eyes followed his van until it eventually disappeared behind the tall, slender trees lining the road.

she shifted in her seat as the waitress bounded up to her with a bright smile, her notepad and pen in hand. “hey there! we waiting on anyone tonight?” the young woman inquired, and she gave the waitress a soft smile as she nodded. “yeah, he should be here any minute now,” she replied, glancing over to the clock on the wall ahead of her. “ooh, ‘he?’” the waitress reiterated, playfully giving her shoulder a nudge. “first date?” she felt her nerves ease and her muscles relax due to the small talk, her palms feeling less slick in her lap. she nodded, “yeah.. just a boy from school.”

“well, isn’t he a lucky guy?” the woman giggled, clicking open her pen as she readied it over the notepad. “can i get you anything to drink while we wait for the boy from school?”

with a smile and eased nerves, she ordered her drink, a wave of newfound confidence surging through her veins. maybe something good would come out of this date after all, and who knows? maybe finally, her feelings for steve and eddie would be put to bay, making way for something new to set sail.

but that was two hours ago.

just as eddie had said earlier, rain pounded against the diner’s windows, the shape of the crescent moon in the sky above still evident although blurry, as if it smiled mockingly down at her. she watched as customers came and went until she was nearly the only one still there, her heart sinking to the pit of her stomach when she’d catch their small, pitiful glimpses towards her.

for two hours, she sat in the diner, nursing her drink and making small talk with the waitress, who undoubtedly pitied her, even offering her a meal on the house.

two hours had been more than enough for her to accept that her date wasn’t coming, and to seemingly come to terms that her worst fear had really come true:

maybe she really was that unloveable.

“no, it’s fine,” she forced a small smile as she rose from her seat in the nearly empty diner, slapping a twenty dollar tip on the table. “do you mind if i use the phone?” she asked, to which the young woman nodded without hesitation. she followed the waitress to the wall where it was, her fingers curling around the length of the phone as her opposite forefinger turned the dial, steve’s number practically muscle memory now.

“hello?”

her breath hitched in her throat at the sound of his voice, her vision glossing over with the familiar salty sting of tears, and she desperately tried to blink them away. the lump in her throat felt heavy, her words at the tip of her tongue but falling short.

“hello? anyone there?”

“is it one of those prank calls?” she could hear eddie’s voice in the distance, and she sniffled, her teeth pinching her bottom lip.

“hey, i can hear you, whoever you are. what do you w—“

“…steve?”

steve knew that voice all too well, and he knew it well enough to know that something was wrong, judging solely by the sound of her voice. “is everything alright? how did the date go? you don’t sound so good, did you catch a cold?”

she scratched at the corner of her eye, desperately trying to rid them of her tears. “can you just.. can you just come get me? i’m at the diner.”

the line went dead, and she sniffled again, hanging the phone back up on its mount, burrowing the tips of her fingers into her elbows. she began to make her way towards the exit, the waitress stopping her by placing a hand on her shoulder and she turned, the young woman’s concerned expression making her flush. “do you have a ride, honey? it’s pouring out there.”

she turned back to the window, the wind whipping the rain into the glass, and she could only imagine how chilly it was out there. but she couldn’t bear to be inside of this place any longer.

“yeah. thank you,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. she pulled away from the waitress and pushed her way outside, the chill instantly littering her skin with goosebumps. she sucked a shaky breath through her teeth as she made her way to the corner of the diner, still in the light, but unable to be seen from inside the diner.

steve and eddie arrived in no time, her clothes dripping from the rain, her hair in the same state. steve practically leaped out of the van, tugging his jacket off of his shoulders as he jogged over to where she stood, wrapping it around her shoulders and tugging her into his chest. “god, you’re freezing,” he said, rubbing his palms up and down the length of her arms. “let’s get you in the car.”

her lips stayed pressed together, narrowing her eyelids as rain pelted her face whilst steve guided her towards the van, her irises cowered to the wet cement below to avoid catching a glimpse of eddie’s face. steve helped her into the back of the van, climbing in beside her rather than taking his usual spot in the passenger’s seat. eddie turned in his seat towards her, but still, she didn’t dare look up at him. embarrassment crept up to her cheeks, the skin of her arms hot where steve had been rubbing his palms.

“what happened, honey?” eddie questioned, reaching back to place a hand on her knee, her flesh hot in his touch’s wake. they were both silent, patiently waiting for her response as her bottom lip wobbled, her shoulders caving in, her fingernails clawing at her skin. she shook her head, “he didn’t even show up.”

eddie’s jaw tensed and he fell back in his seat, his head leaning back against the headrest. steve’s palms came to a halt at her elbows, pressing his tongue into the inside of his cheek, narrowing his eyes outside the van window. “god, i just knew that asshole wasn’t up to any good,” he practically growled beneath his breath, and she shifted, rubbing her legs together for more warmth. “can we just.. go back to steve’s house or something?” she asked, and eddie stole another glance back at her through the rear view mirror. he blinked, “yeah. yeah.”

the car ride was silent, save for the music softly emitting from the stereo and the rain pounding its fist against the windows, and in no time, eddie pulled into the driveway of steve’s house. “c’mon, let’s get you into warmer clothes, yeah?” steve murmured beside her ear, tightening his jacket around her shoulders before guiding her out of the van, hurrying her to the front door. eddie followed close behind as steve slipped the key into the lock of the door, pushing it open and guiding her inside with a hand to the small of her back.

they led her up the stairs and to steve’s room, and eddie replaced steve’s jacket with a warm blanket instead as steve disappeared into his closet, fishing out some of his clothes. “do you wanna talk about it?” eddie questioned as he eased her down onto the edge of the bed, sinking down to his knees in front of her to ease her feet out of her shoes. she’d been silent up until this point, too silent.

she was bound to break at some point.

droplets of tears made their escape from her sockets, and she gripped onto either of her elbows, eddie’s eyes widening as he reached up to wipe them away from her cheeks. “shhh, no, no, don’t cry.”

steve emerged from his closet, one of his t-shirts and sweatpants draped over his arm as she dug the heels of her palms into her eyes, pressing down hard until she saw stars. “god, i just feel so stupid,” she murmured as steve sat down beside her, wrapping an arm around her and giving her shoulder a squeeze. “hey, don’t say that. you aren’t stupid,” steve cooed, his breath warm against her ear. “he’s the stupid one, he doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”

“yeah, i mean, you’re the most amazing girl i know, any guy would be lucky to have you,” eddie continued, and it only made her feel worse.

if that were true, then why didn’t they want her themselves?

“it’s not even him i’m upset about,” she admitted, locking her fingers on her lap. “i couldn’t have cared less about him, to be honest.” steve and eddie shared a puzzled look at this but remained silent, urging her to continue. “it’s more what he did. i mean god, it happens every time. i’m tired of feeling so unwanted.”

her name slipped from steve’s lips, but she ignored him. “am i really that unloveable?”

the silence was deafening now, and she wanted nothing more than to wither away, to be nothing. she turned away from them, unsure if she’d be able to even look either of them in the eyes anymore. she hated feeling so pathetic, feeling so vulnerable in front of them, especially when she loved them so much. she couldn’t help but feel that they thought the same of her, that she was just some weak, sensitive little girl having a little meltdown over something they couldn’t quite care less about.

if only she knew how wrong she was.

“well, harrington, i think that’s the dumbest thing i’ve ever heard like, in my life,” eddie finally broke the silence, and her body tensed at his words, uncertain of his meaning. “you? unloveable?” he scoffed, and she could feel a hand cup her cheek, her face being turned until she was face to face with steve. “if that were true, then what do you call what i feel for you?” he murmured, the pad of his thumb soothing over her heat seared skin. she tensed beneath his touch, unsure if she had even heard him right. eddie scowled, “goddammit, harrington, that was supposed to be my line.”

she blinked. she pondered asking either one of them to pinch her, unsure if she was even awake right now. “what?”

eddie’s fingers brushed through her hair, swiping the loose, damp strands back behind her ear, his lips curved into a soft smile. “you heard me,” he said, glancing over to steve. “us.”

her eyebrows knit together, her heart just about leaping right out of her chest as she looked between the two boys. “but..” she began, “..why would you.. if you liked me then.. why wouldn’t you have told me sooner?”

steve’s tongue swiped between the plush of his lips, his thumb caressing her bottom one. “well, you know, just the basic romance novel stuff. didn’t wanna ruin the friendship we already had with you.”

tears welled in her eyes once again, and she glanced away, unknowingly leaning into steve’s touch. “god, if you had told me that sooner, i wouldn’t have sat in that goddamn diner for two hours,” she chuckled, her voice wet but no longer with sadness. “do you know how long i’ve been waiting for you guys to say that?”

eddie rose to his feet and weaved his way between her legs, cradling her face in either of his palms. “you weren’t the only one who's been waiting, sweetheart,” he smiled, leaning closer and closer, until..

her head was suddenly pulled to the side, her lips captured in a kiss, but not in eddie’s. she smiled against steve’s lips as she reciprocated the kiss, eddie pouting as he watched his friend take the first kiss from her instead. when steve finally pulled away, he smirked over to eddie, giving him a shrug. “sorry, couldn’t resist.” she giggled as she turned to eddie, stealing his lips with a kiss before he could make a snarky comment back at steve. his palms cupped either side of her face once again, her hands reaching for his elbows, tugging him closer.

eddie pulled away, big, glistening brown eyes surging into hers, and she melted in the chocolate surrounding his pupils. “are you.. are you sure?” he panted as she dipped her fingers underneath the collar of either of their shirts, tugging them along with her as she crawled to the middle of steve’s mattress. “more than sure,” she replied, tugging steve on top of her body, his lips falling down against hers. his hands soothed up and down the sides of her body, his palms damp from her wet clothes. he broke away only to rid her of them, leaving her in only her undergarments as he tossed her clothes somewhere on the other side of the room.

“shit, look at her, munson,” steve growled, his hands kneading her breasts over the lace of her bra, her back arching up off the plush of the mattress, her chest chasing his touch. “prettier than i ever could have imagined.”

steve’s lips sucked at the crook of her neck as eddie worked at his own clothes, and she watched as he stripped, tossing his t-shirt and ripped jeans to the floor along with her discarded clothes. steve reached beneath her to unhook the clasps of her bra, practically tearing the lace off of her as eddie crawled his way over to her head, a hand slithering behind her neck to guide her lips to his. “such perfect tits,” she could hear steve moan, his lips kissing either nipple before taking one in his mouth, kneading the opposite breast with his hand. she mewled into eddie’s mouth, her fingernails gripping at the sheets and her toes curling as steve’s tongue worshipped her erect nipples.

eddie’s teeth sunk down into the plush of her bottom lip, dragging it along with him as he pulled away, abruptly letting go before he could cause any pain. her mind was mush, her vision hazy as she stared up at eddie, steve’s kisses trailing down the valley of her breasts, making their way down to her panties, half soaked from the rain, half soaked from her arousal. “what’s the situation down there, harrington?” eddie asked, peering over her shoulder as steve peeled her panties from her hips, down her thighs until they hooked off her ankle, finally tearing them away and letting them fall to the floor.

steve smiled, “she’s dripping.”

she moaned as steve’s middle and forefinger traced a line up and down between her slick folds, the tips of his fingers drenched with her arousal. she managed to glance down at him as he brought the fingers to his lips, her nectar coating his tongue and he hummed, “she tastes heavenly.”

she could only catch a glimpse of steve’s face disappearing between her folds before she threw her head back, screwing her eyelids tightly shut as his tongue licked a stripe up her slit, the tip of it swirling around her aching clit before working back down. slowly, he worked the muscle past the barrier and through to her sponges walls, her back once again arching up off of the bed, into eddie’s touch. “oh, stevie, fuck!”

“you feel harrington’s tongue inside of you, baby?” eddie cooed, caressing her cheekbone with his thumb as he fisted his cock with the other, hovering above her, the pink tip of his cock ghosting over her lips. “think you can take my cock in your mouth, honey?” she peeled her eyelids open to see the head of eddie’s length in front of her, and she gasped, her lips falling agape, eager to be around his shaft. he chuckled, his fingertips scratching her scalp affectionately as he guided his cock to her lips, letting her plant soft and eager kisses to the tip. “you’re just a little cock slut, aren’t ya, sweetheart?” he purred as he eased his cock into her warm mouth, moaning when she hollowed her cheeks. “shit, fuck, yeah, just like that.”

it was all so much at once, steve’s tongue coaxing her orgasm out of her, eddie’s cock nestled deep inside the warmth of her mouth. it wasn’t long until her thighs were twitching, her heels digging in between steve’s shoulder blades. he hummed into her cunt, the vibrations sending her over the moon. she cried around eddie’s cock as she spilled on steve’s tongue, and he happily lapped up every last drop of her nectar, making sure none of it went to waste.

“so beautiful when you come, baby,” steve murmured just above her clit, giving it a sweet kiss before he sat up, peeling his shirt off of his torso, shedding the rest of his clothes along with it. eddie, on the other hand, began to thrust into her mouth, and she could feel his tip reaching the back of her throat, tears welling in her ears from how deep he was. “fuck, she takes cock like a champ,” eddie groaned as steve fisted his cock, pumping himself a few times before lining himself up with her entrance, still wet from her orgasm, new arousal coating her folds. “gonna fill you all up with cock, baby,” steve growled as he watched the head of his length disappear inside of her, her eyes widening from the stretch, tears streaming down her cheeks as she cried around eddie’s cock again. “fuck! you’re so tight,” steve hissed, easing the rest of his length inside of her until she was full all the way up to the brim.

steve’s hands gripped her hips as he pulled his cock nearly all the way out before snapping his hips brutally back into her, and she yelped around eddie’s length, tapping his thigh. he pulled out of her mouth so that she could catch her breath, watching the rise and fall as she whimpered at steve’s brutal thrusts, her body bouncing up and down the mattress. “please, steve, right there, don’t stop,” she cried as eddie’s tip grazed over her lips, fisting the base of his cock. “feels so fucking good. so fucking big.”

eddie guided himself back into her mouth, his climax was so fucking close that he didn’t dare let it go to waste. pleasured surged through her veins, and she felt featherlight, as if she were floating atop a cloud— or maybe just dreaming.

but not even her dreams could come up with this kind of pleasure, in fact, they had underestimated just how good her best friends would feel, their cocks filling her up until they took up all of her senses. all she could think of was steve and eddie and how much she’s wanted them and how happy she felt now that she finally had them.

her walls clenched around steve and he groaned, throwing his head back as he snapped his hips rougher into her, his hands gripping her hips so hard she was certain they’d bruise. “shit, you’re squeezing me so tight, baby,” he hissed between his teeth, and she clenched again, feeling herself nearing the edge once more. “gonna come? gonna come all over my cock, hm?” she nodded frantically, eddie’s cock twitching as he came, his seed painting her mouth, throwing his head back as his lips fell agape, moans and whimpers slipping through them.

“come for me baby. let me feel you gush around me,” steve commanded, and she wasted no time in coating his cock white with her cum, and he thrusted faster and faster and harder, nearing his own end. eddie fell against the mattress beside her as steve pulled himself out, giving his length a few hard tugs before his cum shot out in thick, white strings on her belly, and she watched the rise and fall of his chest as he came down from his high, carding his fingers through his sweat slicked hair.

eddie tugged her into his chest as steve climbed off of the bed and stalked towards his closet once again, fishing out a towel before making his way back over to where she laid, gently cleaning her up. eddie guided her beneath the sheets before climbing in with her, his fingertips massaging her scalp as steve climbed in on the other side of her, his arms circling around her waist as she nestled herself back against the warmth of his chest.

“can’t believe this is real,” eddie whispered against the crown of her head, and she shook her head. “me neither,” steve agreed, his fingertips tracing patterns into her hip. a silence ensued, and her eyelids began to droop, one of her hands squeezing around one of steve’s where it rested on her belly, the other squeezing eddie’s where it lazed in her hair.

“we’re still gonna teach that asshole a lesson for standing you up,” eddie whispered, and steve hummed in agreement. she smiled before she let herself slip away into the realms of unconsciousness, basking in the warmth of her two boys.

#steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #steddie x reader #steddie x you #steddie x y/n #stranger things imagine

459 notes · View notes