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ieatangstforbreakfast · 6 months

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Pairing ೃ⁀➷ 𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝟒𝟐! 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 x Fem! Reader

Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.

Genre ೃ⁀➷ Forbidden love, mutual pining, angst♡

Tags ೃ⁀➷ Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.

Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ SUPEERR sorry for the late update! i went through a hellish week but I really wanted to go on with the story 😭 i wrote down the setting so the ending’s kinda set in stone, so buckle your seatbelts and prepare yourself for a ride.

Tag list ೃ⁀➷ @sakura-onesan @coffeeandtealol @luvjunie @noetophat @proudgojofucker [CAN THE OTHERS REDO THEIR NAMES I CANT FIND YALLS ACCOUNTS IM SCARED OF TAGGING THE WRONG PEOPLE IM SO SO SORRY IM NEW TO THIS]

⚠️ 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⚠️ PLOTTTTT. This chapter onward will mark the beginning of heavy themes. There will be mentions of death, manipulation, discussion of political issues, and profane language. Discretion is advised.

FIC MASTERLIST

Previous chapter || Next chapter

And when the rain stopped, you two were back to the same scene, but with your hand on his sleeve.

You and Miles walked down the same Brooklyn road, your fingers pinching the corner of his jacket while he led your bike on with his free hand. Your shoes crunched against the autumn leaves, each step like a snapping twig, marking your each step.

Even at its darkest, Brooklyn never slept along with its sisters. The bright windows, the music playing from the underground bars, and the other couples maneuvering through the night like mice on the run. Still, everything seemed lazier and slower— and you didn’t know if it was just Miles or the atmosphere in general. Miles rambled on and on about his childhood show, going on about how his seven-year-old-self thought olives would be the greatest thing to snack on after seeing Jerry pine after it so much, and how after plopping it into his mouth changed the entire course of his life.

“Ever since then, I never ate another goddamn olive for the rest of my damn life.”

You laugh at his dramatics, at the way he shakes his head, but despite the dramatic way he moved, Miles never shook the arm your hand was clinging onto— you needed it more than his story-telling.

“I mean, olives do look like grapes, so I kinda understand the confusion.”

“That’s the biggest foul, really: that olives look like grapes.”

“It is kinda one hell of a foul. Mine’s the fact that raisins also look like grapes.”

And the image pops in his mind like a bubble. “… Jesus. Why the hell does everything look like grapes?”

“Ionno.” You shrug. “Same thing can be said about your head, though.”

He feigns offense, parting his mouth into an ‘o’ while leaning back. “Stop projecting your grapefruit-lookin’ ass.” Miles shoots back, earning a sharp swat from you. “Fucker, you’re the one built like a bamboo shoot.”

"You're the one talkin taller than your own height, you lil, dehydrated, un-sunned potted plant lookin' ass."

You gawk at the full-blown insult, earning nothing but a guffaw from Miles who shook his head.

"I'm just kidding, my girl, m'just kidding." He swiftly pulls you closer, pulling you in with his hand over your shoulders. "You know I'm just playin' with you, ma, you're the prettiest in my eyes." The way he sweetly coos tugs at your heartstrings, your tiny giggles muffled while he sways you around.

"Apology accepted," You snicker. "Riley Freeman.”

“… Future child bride.”

“Future enemy of the state.”

“Thas why you daddy don’t want’chu.”

“At least I got a daddy.”

And the squabble just went on and on.

Tiny jabs of flirting disguised as well-crafted insults, and subtle touches concealed as playful punches. The two of you were crazy in the sort of way that only the two of you can drive each other insane.

Ironically, you loved these sorts of moments with him— just two people simpering down the streets in good ol' New York. But in the back of your mind, there was still that lingering guilt that endlessly knocked against your psyche, begging you to tell the truth.

But the truth wasn’t the hotel, or the life you were living. The truth was a decaying matter locked in a finely decorated cage, where everyone could smell the stench, but they instead choose to ignore it all for the sake of preserving peace.

Miles would never do that. He wouldn’t turn around and shrug his shoulders just for the sake of preserving whatever peace or comfort New York had— he would absolutely fucking riot to disturb the comfortable.

But the thing was, all you had left was that peace, and the slightest piece of your dignity scrapped up like leftovers of a meal.

“Hey, ma.” Miles snaps you out of your thoughts, earning nothing but a small hum from you.

“… Do you know anythin ‘bout about parallel universes?”

You pause for a moment, processing that question like a printer— eyes slowly traveling to meet his as if to confirm if what you heard was correct. Miles shifts a bit, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“.. What?” You airily query, brows knitted together in confusion. He laughs at the way your mouth hung like a lost toddler. “Parallel universes? Ionno, I just heard ‘bout it from my dorm mate.” His fingers reach to scratch the nape of his neck. “Something ‘bout there being another version of us in another universe n shit like that— slight changes, maybe?”

“.. I’ve heard about it from my Physics professor, but I never really delved much into it.”

“Well, I’ve been thinkin a lot ‘bout it.”

Your nose scrunches. “Why though?”

“Well,” The two of you start walking again, with the pace much slower. “It made me wonder if there’s another us in another universe.. Doin’ shit like this.” His hand gestured at the both of you, soon dropping by your side. “You n me, just walking and talking. I wonder if we also like each other in another universe.”

It sounded cheesy. Being lovers in more than one world.

But you liked the sound of it. Lovers.

“I probably hate you in every other universe.” You laugh, lightly pushing him away.

“Well, maybe there’s somethin’ special ‘bout me in this universe that made you fall for me.” He smoothly chimed, leaning a bit closer. You try to hold back a smile, but it still seeped in the corners of your lips.

“Ionno ‘bout that.”

His grin only widens. “You know you love me, ma.”

You stare a long stare.

I do.

“Shut up.” You mumble, pacing faster when Miles reaches out to hold your hand. “Maaaaaaaa.”

“What do you want, Miles?”

And he looks at you with those eyes of his. The kind that dragged you into this whole mess, the kind that made you crawling back in four days. Subtly, he leans down to your level, eyes in line with your own. Only then, so gently, he presses his lips against yours for a second.

"I wonder if that happens in every other universe too?"

You blink at the act, somewhat speechless.

“I’d be missin out on a lot if I don’t get to kiss you like this in every universe.”

You try to snap back at him, but you could no longer find anymore ammo to fire. Miles sets your brother’s bike aside, kicking the stand down just to take both of your hands— placing them over his shoulders.

"How about you? What do you think?" He suddenly asks. "Who would we be to each other in another world?"

There were a million thoughts blundering your mind, a sort of disarray you weren't used to— the thing was, you didn’t even know who the two of you were supposed to be to each other in this world. Everything seemed all blurry in the future, and you couldn’t even think of one for yourself.

But for once, you couldn’t help but think of what could be.

“In another universe, we’re just us.” You mumble, your fingers tickling at the back of his neck.

“In another universe, I’ll be doing painting commissions at random shops to save up for Christmas. I’ll be working at that café we saw. You’ll be there, and we’ll meet up and I’ll be the one to ask for your number.” Your hand runs down his sleeve just to intertwine your fingers with his.

“What do you mean you? You can’t do nothing, I’ll be the one asking for your number.”

Your gaze narrows. “It’s another world, Miles. We ain’t entirely sure if we’re going to be the same people.”

“You’ve got a point,” He piques. “But—“

“Let me finish.” You sigh, and immediately, he snaps his jaw shut. “… I don’t have to escape every night just to see you, nor do we have to meet exclusively every Friday and Saturday. We’ll see each other everyday, and you’ll go to my house— and my mom will make us food while going on and on about us dating, and my dad’s going to scold me to keep the door open just so he can keep an eye out on you.”

Suddenly, all the fantasies you’ve mentally illustrated for yourself every night to dwell upon came running out of your mouth.

“Maybe, I’ll have a few childhood scars, and I’ll paint my nails any color I like— I’ll get a new set monthly, and I’ll let you choose the color. We’ll walk to school together, and I’ll never miss any of your basketball games…. We’ll just be,”

Normal.

“Us.”

Realizing your rambling, you shift away a bit, somewhat embarrassed of all the stuff you’d blurted out. It’s like you could sense him trying to piece together what you’d just said. With a cautious hand, he wraps it around your waist before nuzzling his head into your hair.

"What's stopping us from being like that in this world too?"

You hold onto him a little tighter.

“… It’s getting colder these days, huh?”

Noticing your hesitance to break open, Miles decides to simply play along for now. “Yeah, it’s getting colder, ma, so you,” He softly pulls away, placing both of his hands over your cheeks. “You should start taking care of yourself or else you might start a whole new bubonic plague.”

“Why the fuck do you keep linking that to me?”

“Cause you’re a host of viral plague.”

“I’m not even sickly, damn it.” You say, while feeling an itch in your nose. “You’re just making shit up at thi— hACHOO!” You sneeze down to the ground, narrowly missing your sleeve. Miles takes a step back, shaking his head with a smile on his lips.

“… Maybe I should be a plague doctor for halloween, and you should be a medieval patient dying of the bubonic plague.”

He pictures you with comically large bags beneath your eyes, frail lips, and a white dress with its frock lost in the wind— and he’ll stand beside you, with the large black beak of the mask poking at your hair, with a large black cape flying behind his back.

“… Isn’t halloween this Saturday?” You think back with a frown. “I haven’t celebrated that in a long, long time.”

That was a lie. You’ve never celebrated halloween before.

“Huh?” He snaps in shock. “You don’t celebrate halloween?”

He watches you shrug. “It’s a kid’s thing.” Was what your Father always told you, in the same tone you were currently speaking.

“Awe man,” Miles mumbles. “… I thought you got the hint that we’re going trick or treating for our date.”

“Trick or treating?” That too, you also haven’t done. “I-Isn’t it dangerous? My mother said people would poison the candy and plant shit inside the chocolates.”

“What?” At that point, Miles was piecing together an image of your family with each passing story. “That almost never happens— who can afford poisoning children in this economy? Shit, might as well just use it on yourself with all the bills you have to pay.”

And there it goes again. The economy.

And it strikes you a bit. That guilt of being brought up pristinely uncomplicated. Privileged, as most would call it. Your problems were rather personal, never financial. Growing up, you’d been living lavishly in the comforts of your manor, never having to worry about tomorrow or next month or next year.

And, admittedly, it was unfair.

“… Miles, can I, um, discuss something with you?” You silently query, unconsciously matching your pace along with his. Miles only hums.

“Look. I don’t mean to get political, and I don’t want to sound privileged— but honestly speaking, I kinda am, and I can definitely recognize it.” You confess. “I wasn’t.. Raised in a home where we had to be conscious about money. My parents are well-off, in the way I’m sheltered as hell, but I’m not blind. I can see the city crumbling apart. My brother says that it’s all because people don’t wanna work anymore, and I never understood why.”

He raised his brows. “That’s… Well, I’m not gonna judge your brother from that alone,” Miles states, keeping in mind that he still wants to appeal to your family. “But honestly, that whole view is kinda whack. Listen, nena,” He takes a deep breath. “Imagine working your ass off nine to five— and you’re still getting paid the minimum wage. Rent is due, groceries are expensive, and you’re tired as hell, but it’s all not enough. You can’t even spend any of the money on yourself.”

“Well,” You pique. “… My father said that if the people would just stop buying irrelevant things and save up, they’d be able to live.”

Miles grimaces. “Do only the rich deserve happiness?”

Your head tilts. “Don’t they say that money can’t buy you happiness?”

He shook his head. “They say that because they’ve got the money.”

He spots the confused look on your face. Relatively, he takes your hand and further conveys. “Well, as you said, it’s a capitalist world. Only the wealthy say that because they don’t know what it’s like to be down here,” His hand points below. “In the slums, starving to damn death. Money can fix that shit. Money can fix all this, but they choose not to.”

Your mouth hung open.

“… I never thought of it that way.”

“Mhm.”

“My whole life, my parents have always chalked it up to hard work— but the city never sleeps, so it’s impossible that nobody here ain’t doing nothing.”

And it all processes through you. “Huh, it’s all.. New to me.” Naturally, your hand drags up to pluck the skin off your lips. “I never delved into that sort of issue before. My parents have always been kind of.. Sort of,”

“.. Elitist?”

“I was going to say stuck-up, but that makes so much more sense.”

“Yeah, I’m kinda seein’ it, not gonna lie.” His clicks his tongue. “Look, ion really talk ‘bout this sort of thing much, but I like discussing these sorts of things with you— ‘cuz it’s interesting seeing how open you are to these kinds of topics, even if you were raised like that.”

You turn your head to look at Miles, and your brow twitches ever so slightly at the pang of anxiety drumming at your chest.

“We’re… Really the opposites of each other, huh?”

He hums. “But in a way, we’re still kinda similar.”

“How so?” You ask, a bit dubious of the remark. You were all this, and he was all that. You doubted any sort of similarities you two had, but Miles holds your shaking hand.

“If you and I were solely made to be opposites, we’d be nemeses by now.”

And you ponder.

How long would it take before you start hating me?

How long would it take before I stop seeing that loving gaze of yours?

How long would it take before you discover the truth?

From afar, you could already spot the Gristedes building, as though it were the portal parting your world from his. You eventually take the bike back to yourself, dragging it by the handles. As the edge of the block materializes, you turn to look at the boy behind you.

“I’m gonna have to go ride back now.��

And when he draws closer, a flick of your mind takes the image of Miles’ exhausted face, assuming it’d be similar to what he’d look like once he recognizes the truth about you. You wonder if he feels it too— this strange air between the both of you, going past tension, and delving into something deeper and darker.

You’re so unsure. So afraid of how fragile this entire thing was.

“Ain’t I getting a kiss, nena?”

“You’re so needy.” You huff, opening your arms anyway. “If you get the bubonic plague, you’re gon’ be the one complaining all about it.”

“Yeah, yeah, nena, whatever you say— just gimme my kiss.”

And he penguin walks his way to you, leaning down like a kid in search of candy. Miles steps into your view, following wherever you turned— his hands making their own journey across your waistline. Your palms snake up his shoulders, heels faltering backward when he presses you up against a brick wall. Your hands fall down to grip his arms instead, head tilting ever so slightly before taking his lips.

He takes you like you were his favorite drink, digging his fingers into the side of your waist— his body melting like ice on a summer day. With his hand, he angles your chin much higher, while yours trail up his chest, parting your lips to gasp for air, only for Miles to steal it away from you.

And when you part, you’re left a heaving mess.

“Trick or treating on Saturday?” He asks again. “Please?”

“… I—“

“I’ll take a bite of every candy you’ll get just to make sure it ain’t poisoned.”

You laugh at his remark.

“Fine.”

It was strange, almost unfamiliar to you, to meet the gate of the manor at this time of night.

It had you questioning your choices, your rationality, and the soundness of your mind. Your mind wasn’t entirely sound to begin with, fortunately for you Miles liked that about you.

After bribing the security, tossing Antonne’s bike to the side, and creeping into the damn place, suddenly, you’re thrust back into the stillness of your family’s generational household.

The marble tiles, the limestone brick walls, and the grandeur steps that parted by the center were all normalcy to you— in spite of how you’d always deemed your family as ‘capable’ to Miles.

Instead of childhood photos and potted plants, you were greeted by the sight of marvelously carved statues and antique paintings. Rather than a home, it felt more like a museum to you— but in a way, it was also your fault for keeping everything too clean.

It’s unfair.

One day you’ll leave this very house and leave it under the care of Antonne who hardly bore any interest for managing things. Despite the way you’ve learned to force yourself to take interest in numerous fields of whatever-the-fuck, this manor was something you treasured along with the hotel. Your father was well aware of your passion, your skills in tidiness, and that was the reason why he appointed you as Antonne’s proxy initially, but you were greedy for more.

You were a little too greedy to want Miles and the life you’d desired for the longest time. You didn’t know what the future was like, and you’ve grown too sick of having everyone else decide your own future for you. This life of infinite spending and glamour was the only life you’d ever known, and you weren’t prepared to abandon it all. As your mother said, no one’s privileged enough to be born as wealthy as you, and you’d likely carry that sort of financial ignorant bliss to the grave.

But Miles didn’t have that.

His family didn’t have generational heirlooms worth thousands of dollars, nor did they have antique paintings bought from highly private auctions. His home only had two bedrooms, unlike your own which housed tens of them.

You and him were astronomically different in more ways than one.

One of these days, those differences might end up either empowering or deadly to one of you.

Step. Step. Step.

As you treaded up the staircase, your hand jolts away from the icy ivory-pillared railings, cussing a subtle “Fuck,” as you went on. In the dead of the night, the halls appeared eerier and darker— as though you could see your own ancestors walking past the red carpets with their frilly gowns and downcast looks of disappointment. Like you could see them shaking their heads just after seeing you there, wearing Miles’ hoodie.

A scandal capable of ruining the family name. As if Antonne wasn’t enough, you ended up falling for a boy you’d likely run away with had you ever gotten the chance.

Elopement. Dramatically cliché, and somehow it still exists in the twenty-first century— for the star-crossed lovers and the filthy rich. Or maybe you just have really bad taste in men… Or parents! Pick a struggle.

You carried your shoes along with your guilt while trudging down the corridor, knowing you’ll likely have to have someone secretive clean the mess up for you. Antonne’s room was in a separate hall, with Malachi’s closer to your own. Even then, like a mouse, you scurry in silence just so you wouldn’t get caught. When you finally reach your door, a thousand burdens escape from your shoulders, only to hear a faint click when you try to twist the handle.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

“Why won’t it fucking open?” You whisper to yourself. A few more Click Click Click Click Click’s and you manage to finally recognize that you’ve been locked out of your own damn room. You search through your clothes to find the key, only to realize that it’d been in the pockets of the hoodie you’ve left at Miles’ place. In your anxiety, you pull on the edge of your hair, cursing a million words.

I can’t wake up Malachi.

You place your hand over your mouth.

Your breaths begin to stagger, your exhaustion taking hold of you. You tug at your hair a little harder, as though your current goal was to rip your scalp out— and it hurt, it hurt like absolute hell, but nothing was up to par with the pain brought to you by your own mean mind.

But you think, and you think.

Then you lean back, take a breath, and sigh.

And the next thing you know, you’re stabbing through the lock with a knife.

Well, it was less of a stab, more like a saw to jam the bolt. It took a few several tries, but it did manage to unlock after a snap. You heave a sigh of relief, heading right in before gently closing it shut. Immediately off to rest your head against the flat of your door as a sort of celebration for your success.

“… Where have you been?”

You celebrated a little too soon, unfortunately.

Antonne stared at you from the sill of one of your opened windows, the gleam of the new dawn gleaming in pink and blue behind him, casting a long shadow that trailed past your fluffy carpet and dawned over your darkened face. Ever so slowly, he plucks the dying cigarette from his teeth, the intoxicating scent tugging at your nostrils. For once, Antonne’s taken you aback after the longest while. He looks similarly exhausted, with his unbuttoned dress shirt and disheveled hair, while also reasonably confused by your current appearance.

“I was out.” You shallowly answer, as if it weren’t too obvious. Antonne furrows his brows, only heightening the permanent arch he already endowed. At the sound of your words, he clicks his tongue and flicks the cigarette out the window.

“Was it that boy again?” He speaks a baritone lower, like something being dragged through gravel. His shoulders heightened as he rested his palms above the sill. You sense a sort of imposing façade.

“… Miles Morales?”

Your eyes flit open, ventriloquist-esque. Like a dummy brought to life to perform for the circus. At that moment, the two of you siblings began to notice the semblances mirroring your parents’ ways; the younger sister who weaponizes her own ignorance like her father, and the older brother who, like a dog, barks endlessly like their mother. Your body leans against the handle, placing all your weight down a single foot while preparing yourself for whatever Antonne’s spared to speak.

“… Fifteen years old, lives with his single mother, Rio Morales, who’s a nurse at Langone. He’s close with his uncle, Aaron Davis, and he keeps steady high marks at Visions Academy... And yet,” His gaze narrows distastefully. “Despite going to such an elite school, he continues on to live a shady life, having at least once or twice participated in vandalism, destruction of private property, and simple assault.”

Antonne eyes your reaction, but you only shrug.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

He clears his throat.

“His father, Jefferson Davis, momentarily worked for father and applied for security three years ago.“ Antonne takes a step forward, the shadow over his face growing darker. “And on the opening night of Aureum, he signed up to take a shift at the evening party.”

Antonne stood eerily, and so did you. The tension a blur, cuttable with a single slice from the knife hidden behind you.

“Did you know about that too?”

“... What are you insinuating?”

Antonne yells out your name in a bellow, but you don’t flinch. Like a deer, round and wide, your eyes were hauntingly frozen, scrutinizing the way he heaved. He struggled to search for the words to describe you— crass, cruel, wicked, bitch. And it only mulled him downer seeing you look guiltless. With his hand, he drags you by the collar.

“You’re wearing the hoodie of a boy whose father died in the tragedy you’re fucking covering up.”

ＣＬＩＣＫ.

+17479256640 sent a picture || Just now

Aaron peers at the message at his phone, swiping it upwards, thinking it must’ve been some sort of scam or bot. He chugs down the final sip of his coffee, settling by the couch with a disgruntled moan. He rests his head by the armrest, placing his mug down by the table before him. As he stretches the ache off his limbs, another chime goes off from his phone.

He lazily plucks it from his side, wincing as the bright screen flashed him.

+17479256640 || Just now

This is your nephew, right?

ＣＬＩＣＫ.

“Shh." You pull a finger over your lips, hushing him as though he were a child. Your other hand drafts away from the lock, and you toss the knife to the side. The loud, clacking way it fell made Antonne jump. And he sees you, and the way your lips curled into this amused smile.

At that smile alone, he falters, remembering so suddenly every detail about the mother you two shared. Every strand of her beautiful hair which you endowed, the darkening of her gaze when she was having fun, and the deriding way she looked at the people she deemed inferior.

I don’t need a knife to kill you, Antonne.

That look you had, a smile which he now recognized as a sneer, was what true hatred was.

“Antonne, maybe you’re forgetting that I’m not covering up just any fuck up, I’m covering up your fuck up.”

And when you took a single step forward, all of what was left of Antonne’s confidence crumbled.

“The building collapsed because you forced the workers to rush the process of the construction— and when the media got a hold of what was happening, you ran to Switzerland with Richard just to avoid the consequences, and all of who dealt with everything was me.” You dug an accusing finger into his shoulder. “I took care of everything in your place, and I sacrificed so much for it. But when you realized how I might take over your spot in the hotel, you came back after three whole years— going through every detail of me that you could find as a weakness. Well, let me tell you one thing, my dearest brother,”

You whisper over to his ear. “You can’t beat me at a game you’ve never fucking played before.”

ＣＬＩＣＫ.

“What the fuck?”

Aaron sits right back up, clutching his phone with strength he never thought he had. Swiftly, he presses the notification— greeted with a photo of Miles and some girl walking down the streets with their hands clasped together. When the text bubble reappears, another photo surfaces with the girl’s face being much clearer. A sense of familiarity strikes him, and he couldn’t quite place what it was.

He zooms into the picture, fingers grasping the bottom of his chin while scourging through his memories.

His eyes trace the details of your hair, every curve and curl— your eyes, downcast and very attentive of Miles’ presence. So aware of him, it’s as though he was all that was left in the world. And he looked at you the same way. For a moment, it was like witnessing Rio and Jeff once more, with those gazes smiles.

‘Pretty. The kind of pretty who knows what she wants, and she can use her own face to get it. When you say something stupid, she’ll let you know that what you said was stupid with just her eyes alone— and it’ll shut me up, and I love it.’

Those were Miles’ exact words. For the last two months, you were all he ever really talked about. Seeing you now, Aaron couldn’t help but raise his brows at the sight of your hand intertwined with his nephew’s. He ought to be lying if he ever said that Miles was exaggerating— you were definitely a looker. And that was what unsettled him the most. He had this gut feeling he couldn’t shake, a burden gnawing at his stomach.

He soon drags his thumbs across the keyboard, typing out immediately.

Aaron Davis || Just now

who’s this?

ＣＬＩＣＫ.

“… What’s happened to you?”

It was genuine. And it wasn’t just curiosity, Antonne was seriously wondering with worry.

“What have you done to the sister I grew up with?”

The sister he grew up with?

Antonne could still remember, every aspect and smile you bore three years ago. And he remembered as though it’d all disappeared just yesterday. You were a smiley little girl— always a little too smart for her own good, and always a little too cheeky. But you were shy, and often kept to yourself. Even during those days, you often hid yourself in the shadows, crawling into the corner of every room you entered with a book in your hand.

He recognized you then. Now you were a complete stranger.

Your hand drops, and you shove your shoulder against Antonne’s. “Grew up with? You never grew up.” You trudge towards the window, closing it shut as soon as you got to the handle. “Meanwhile, I had to be an adult as soon as possible because if not me, then who? Mom’s not here, Dad’s a mess, Malachi’s ten years old, Montrell’s in London, and you ran away.” Your body sinks down to the floor. “When I’m with Miles, I feel… Sixteen, like how I should be.”

“… But if you’d just give me the job—“

“I’m not giving you shit.” You spat. “Not yet, at least, stop fucking rushing.”

Antonne stood, watching you sit by the sill, hand over your nightstand to reach out for your vape.

And the way it exits, so lividly and hatefully, like how mother would smoke after every silent dinner.

You were everything like her.

No matter how much you tried to erase yourself from your mother’s legacy, it didn’t help that you were the spitting image of her.

Even in the way you struggled, you were still your mother’s daughter.

“You.. Remind me of...” Mother. The comment slips after seeing her image overlap with your silhouette. You already knew the ending of the sentence as soon as it exited his lips. As the smoke trickles past your teeth, you look up.

“… You want me to do what she would’ve done?”

The way the moonlight pooled before you reminded him of how the glass shards glimmered around your mother after she’d wrecked her own room.

“You’re already doing what she did,” He murmurs. “Doing stupid shit for stupid ideals.”

You grab whatever you can off of the nightstand, throwing it right at Antonne who steps back from the impact of the book. As you heave, he stared hauntingly.

“You think you’re the only one trying so hard in life? I’m also doing my fucking best. You’re basing me off of a mistake I did when I was seventeen.” He took a step forward. “You weren’t the only one forced into adulthood. Instead of playing soccer and going out on first dates, dad made me run a hotel. Sure! I didn’t do half as great as you’re fucking doing, but once you fuck up, dad’s going to abandon you too.”

“I know that.” You shakily admit. “I know that no matter what I fucking do, the hotel’s going to end up in your hands, and all I’ve got is a shitty arranged marriage bound to go down the drain and a few many nights with too much wine and regrets ahead of me.” You rub your hands together for the sake of warmth, your voice growing shakier as it settles to break.

“But what I want, what I really want— I just want dad to look at me and think, ‘oh, maybe she can take hold at least a part of the conglomerate!’ instead of selling me off!”

It’s as though the Hotel was Antonne’s toy, and you’d been polishing it all these years with great care, knowing damn well he’d leave it off to rot.

But you never wanted that toy in the first place. You wanted your father to see you taking care of that toy, in hopes he’d gift you one that you could take care of for yourself.

“The reason why he’s not giving you any of it is b—“

“Because he doesn’t want the Fisks to use me after the marriage, I know.”

You run your fingers through your hair, tugging as though it were about to fall of your scalp.

“I’ve found… A way to escape it.”

ＣＬＩＣＫ.

+17479256640 || Just now

Do you recognize the girl beside him?

You replied || Just now

No.

His knee jumps along to the drumming of his chest. He thinks of Miles, wondering if he’d been kidnapped, coerced, or attacked. He knew the boy— he’s strong enough to fend for himself against many things. He’s well taught, he’s a genius and…

He’s a fucking fool for his lady. Just like his father.

God, who knew that the lone weakness of the Prowler was a sixteen-year-old with a pretty face?

Ding.

+17479256640 || Just now

Sent an attached file

ＣＬＩＣＫ.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

You and Antonne’s heads swerve at the sound of your phone’s ringing. Begrudgingly, you pushed yourself off of the floor, scrambling to get your phone. With another hit off of the pen, you answer the call.

“What is it?”

And in the background, you hear yelling— commands being thrown in chaos and panic. You look at the ID, finding out that it’s one of your father’s aides. With a hushed whisper and a jagged breath, he reports.

“The Warehouse is being raided, miss–“ A gunshot soars through the air, chillingly searing through a momentary silence. The man whimpers, his voice muffled by his hand. “Raided?” You repeat, voice coming to a hush. “Raided by who?”

And with his jaded breath, he answers.

“.. The Prowler.”

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empresskylo · 2 years

Text

𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬

━━━━━‧₊˚➛ hopper is your self-proclaimed adoptive father. he catches you with your teddy bear one night and he wants to help you out. [one scenario where he's sweet, one where he's #dark!jim]

pairing ‧₊˚➛ dark/dad!jim hopper x afab!reader

tags ‧₊˚➛18+ content, smut, unprotected sex, reader is 20, reader described as tiny, innocent!reader, daddy kink, size kink, praise kink, masturbation, dub-con, stepcest i guess but he's not even really reader's dad--more like he's been taking care of you since you were idk 17-18.

w.c.‧₊˚➛ 2256

a.n. ‧₊˚➛ jesus christ, i promise you i have lots of fluff and cute stuff coming, i just always end up finishing smut first... i'm sorry. anyways, i'm going to hell for writing this. and you're going to hell for reading it (-:

masterlist. navi.

Jim made his way over to your bedroom door to check in on you like he did every night before he went to bed. He yawned and rubbed his hand against his chest, undoing a few of the buttons so his shirt wasn’t so tight.

Your door was already ajar and he gently knocked on it and then pushed it open all the way. He instantly froze. His mouth hung open like he was about to say something to you, but his words got caught in his throat at the sight in front of him.

Your room was dark and he could only spot the silhouette of you on your bed. You had a stuffed bear between your knees and you were rocking against it. Your face was buried in your pillows to muffle your whines, not wanting Jim to hear. Your nightgown was hiked up, exposing your ass as you rutted your hips aggressively against your plushie.

Jim assumed you viewed him as a father figure since you started living with him, so there was no way you wouldn’t be grossed out of your mind if you knew he was standing there watching you… Right?

Jim’s cock twitched painfully in his tight pants. He reached a hand down to rub away some of the soreness but he jingled his belt buckle, startling you. You stopped moving and whipped your head up to see Hopper illuminated in your doorway.

“H-Hopper. I was just—“ you pulled your dress down and pushed your teddy bear to the side, completely embarrassed.

Jim cut you off, “No, it’s okay, baby. I didn’t see anything.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest as your core throbbed painfully. Your eyes trailed down Hopper’s exposed chest and to his trousers that had a growing tent inside them.

Hopper didn’t know if he should turn around and leave or if you needed him to reassure you that you shouldn’t be embarrassed. You eyed him a moment longer. “Are you… ?” You gestured to his bulge, making Hopper look down.

Shit. “Oh, fuck. No… I just… It's the body's natural reaction to…I didn't mean...”

You giggled at his rambling. “It’s okay. I uhm… Could you help me?“

Jim choked on his own spit. “Huh? With… what exactly?” He entered the room, his palms growing increasingly sweaty.

You shyly pulled your nightgown up to expose your thighs and underwear. You turned your head to the side in embarrassment, your cheeks warming. He spotted your frilly pink panties that were completely soaked. “It’s so uncomfortable,” you said quietly. You could feel your face flush with raging heat.

Jim rubbed the back of his neck. He really shouldn’t… He couldn’t…

And yet he walked to your bed and sat beside you. “Yeah.. I guess... I can help.” His voice was deeper than earlier as his eyes took your tiny features in. God, he wanted you so badly.

“Lay back, baby.” He cooed.

You slid back and laid exposed for him. His large fingers slowly traced up your thighs leaving tingles in their wake. He hiked your gown up a bit so he could get a good view of your panties. His finger curiously pressed against your core. You gasped. “Feel good?”

You immediately bucked up into his hand; you were a fucking mess. Jim chuckled. “Needy lil' thing,” he whispered to himself. His finger stroked you over the thin fabric making you stifle a whine.

He pushed your panties to the side and slid his thick finger along your slippery folds. Your hands came up to cover your eyes feeling embarrassed.

Your hips bucked up involuntarily a few more times. “This feel nice?” Hopper asked.

“Mhm.” Jim planned to get you off by circling his fingers between your thighs, then he would leave. But you pouted. “Need more.” You pulled your hands away to look at him. He gulped.

He paused, not sure what his next move would be. Something perverted possessed Jim because he began undoing his belt. If he didn't do it now, he never would. “Take your underwear off," he instructed.

You sat up and shimmied them off before tossing them on your floor. Jim mirrored your actions and pushed his pants down, then his boxers, his cock springing free. Your eyes widen. He was so big. Like mind-bogglingly big.

He patted his lap and you crawled over to him. Jim grabbed your hips and hiked your dress up so he could see your pretty pussy. You straddled him and he used one hand to stroke you again, using your slick to lube his cock up for you.

“Just like earlier,” he said, referring to you humping your teddy.

You nodded and let Jim do all the work as he lined you up with him. His hand never left your hip, your dress bunched underneath his fingers so he could see everything he was doing. And fuck, he couldn’t believe what he was doing. It was so wrong, and he felt like he was taking advantage of you. But he also felt like he couldn’t stop. He wanted to feel you.

“Okay, baby. You can sit down.”

You nodded again and began to sit. You instantly gasped feeling the head of Hopper’s cock pressed against your entrance. You heard Jim’s chest rumble as you tried to sit down and take him. You managed to get a bit of his head inside of you before crying out. “Hm. Might be too big for ya, princess.”

You pouted, desperate to ease your building tension. Jim lifted you and then sat you down so his cock was pressed against his stomach and you held it down as you sat atop it. “Alright. Go ahead. Just like you did to your teddy.”

You looked at him, your hands clenching his chest through his shirt. “Go on, baby,” he encouraged.

You took in a deep breath and slid your cunt along Jim’s shaft. You bit your lip and Jim let out a groan. “Jesus,” he mumbled. His hand involuntarily reached across your bed and squeezed your cluster of plushies that were pressing against the both of you. You insisted on gaining a collection of them, and now you were basically sitting on top of them there were so many.

You continued to slide along him, your clit gaining enough friction to make you want to cry out. Hopper saw the way you held back your cries. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You can make noises.”

You looked at him with puffy lips and rubbed along his shaft. You let out a small moan, his cock feeling so much better than the soft stuffed animal against you. You kept rutting your hips against him, picking up speed. You leaned into his chest and let mewls escape your lips. “Daddy, oh, god,” you cried.

“That’s right, princess. Keep going till you feel all better.”

You nodded and continued sliding against him. Jim’s fingers dug into your hips, then under your nightgown and along your soft tummy. Jim grunted each time you bumped his head with your clit. His large rough hands grazed your breasts, making you jump a little at the sensation. “Oh, fuck!” Jim cried as you shifted on top of him.

You began going faster, as fast as you had been going against your plushie. Your whines were constant now as his hard cock glided against your clit in a mind-numbing manner. You huffed as you felt yourself edging closer. “I’m…” you cried, unable to finish your sentence. You began shaking on top of Hopper’s cock, his hand squeezing tightly around your breast in response. Hopper groaned as he began coming onto his stomach, his cock twitching beneath you. You leaned your head against his chest while you lazily humped against him a few more times.

You both were panting and you collapsed into Hopper’s arms. He cradled you and placed small kisses on your forehead. “Feel better, princess?”

You nodded your head against him, “Mhm.”

Hopper peered in through your door, ready to say goodnight when he spotted his innocent little girl rutting your hips against the plushie he had gotten you. You muffled your cries, not wanting to get caught.

Hopper slid into your room and gently shut your door behind him. You still didn’t notice him and you kept gliding your soaking pussy against your bear, desperate for friction.

Hopper palmed his hardening cock in his hands, trying to calm himself as he watched you.

He walked towards your bed, “Princess.”

You jumped and flung your bear to the side of your bed, pulling your nightgown down. “I-I..” you stuttered.

“Were you trying to get off, baby?” He cooed as he stepped in front of you. You shook your head, your face heating. "Were you thinking of daddy?" You gulped. “What a naughty thing to do. Only big girls do that.”

You pouted. “I am a big girl.”

Hopper’s eyes darkened. “Oh, you are now?” You nodded. Hopper undid his belt and grabbed your hips and pulled you towards him. You cried in surprise as Hopper’s large hands began tugging your pink panties down your thighs. “Okay, then you’ll have to prove it to me.” You struggled against him, but he was far stronger. He yanked your nightgown off leaving your budding breasts exposed. You tried to cover your chest but Jim was faster. He forced your arms above your head and your back against the bed. Hopper laid on top of you, his cock begging to be set free. “Be a good girl now.”

He released your hands and reached down to fumble his pants and boxers off. Soon you felt Hop’s hard cock against your bare thigh. You whined. “I think you’re warmed up enough,” he mumbled before settling himself between your legs and forcing his cock against your entrance. You cried, knowing his cock was too big.

“Hey. You wanna act like a big girl? You’re gonna get treated like a big girl.” Hopper began pushing his dick inside of you and you immediately pressed your hands against his chest and cried out in pain. You weren’t ready for someone that size. Your nails clawed into his chest as he slowly pushed himself further. Jim swore under his breath, your pussy squeezing against him uncomfortably tight. “God damn, ” he moaned.

Tears began to well in your eyes. You whined for him to stop, that it was hurting, but he ignored you. In what felt like agonizingly long minutes, Jim had managed to bury himself completely inside you. You felt like your insides were going to split open. Jim pulled back to look at your tear-stained face as your chest rose and fell in sobs. “Hard parts’ over,” he teased. “Just relax, princess. I’m gonna take care of ya.”

You nodded, a cry muffled behind your lips. “That’s my girl.” Jim slowly pulled out, taking his sweet time so you could adjust. Then he pushed back in, making you yell and dig your nails deeper into his chest. Jim groaned, your walls pushing against him in resistance. He knew he wasn’t going to last long.

He began at a very slow speed, thrusting in and out as softly as he could. Your cries became less vocal, and his cock entered more easily over time.

After several painful minutes, Jim had a regular rhythm as he rutted against you, your pussy squelching with each pump. Your whines were still laced with pain but they were also laced with pleasure now. You yelped when he hit you just right so his body brushed against your clit as he bottomed out. Jim grinned. Your legs draped loosely around him as he used your body. He picked up speed, even though he knew he shouldn’t have, and you cried again. The pinching pain was intertwined with waves of pleasure. You were tormented between not enjoying it, and not wanting him to stop.

“God, you feel so fucking good, baby.” Your walls fluttered at his praise. Your hips bucked up against him, your clit getting stimulated whenever you did. “Just like that, princess.”

Soon you were a sobbing mess as you slammed your hips up to meet Hopper’s, sharp painful gasps and moans leaving your lips.

Jim placed kisses along your neck and picked up speed again. He kept rutting into you until you were full-blown crying in pain and also moaning and groaning each time he hit your sweet spot. Your tight walls became too much for him and he began to spill himself inside of you. You yelled, his cock twitching as your walls fluttered. “Fuck,” was all he could muster. The warm liquid quickly overfilled you and made you mewl beneath him. His seed made it so he slipped in and out of you with ease. You felt the pressure that had been building finally break and your legs shook around him. Your head flew back as Jim lazily pumped himself inside of you, not caring about his come entering your unprotected cunt.

Your hips gave a few more lazy thrusts against Jim until he stopped and collapsed on top of you.

He pulled out and it stung. He looked down beneath your bodies and chuckled. “We made quite the mess.” His eyes trailed up to your abused face, littered with tear stains. He kissed your cheek. “Let’s get you cleaned up, baby. Then you can snuggle up into me.” You meekly nodded, not caring about being a ‘big girl’ anymore. You just wanted Hopper to baby you.

#jim hopper #jim hopper smut #hopper #hopper smut #jim hopper oneshot #jim hopper fanfic #stranger things #stranger things smut #smut #hopper st4 #chief jim hopper #chief hopper #jim hopper x reader #insert fic #hopper x reader #stranger things hopper

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redlegumes · 5 months

Text

Dec 3rd: Stolen Pine

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles

Summary: Spontaneous tree theft and decorating, paired with some pining.

⍋↟⍋♡⍋↟⍋

They'd hauled in the tree. Eddie kept talking about how the evergreen part was the important bit and continued to explain Christmas's stolen nuances from paganism. Steve nodded and did his best to follow along. That was what he did lately, follow Eddie. Whether it started with a need to assure himself the guy was okay after their Upside Down torments, or if he'd honestly found Eddie intriguing from the get go, Steve couldn't say.

It didn't really matter anyway. He was positive that his feelings weren't going away as he nodded along with Eddie's excited ramblings. He hadn't even hesitated to join Eddie that night without product in his hair, glasses on.

…

Steve's vision had started to degrade. He'd noticed after his first run in with a Demogorgon. Pretty soon he legally needed corrective lenses to drive. Vanity prevented him from letting anyone other than Robin know. She'd assured him, ‘a boy is allowed to have his secrets. Just not from his platonic soulmate.’ Kinda the same reasoning behind why she knew how utterly hopeless he'd become around Eddie. The type of lovesick that had him helping Eddie with his non-christ related, Christmas tree caper.

continues after the cut

Eddie already knew about Steve's vision after helping Steve through an awful migraine where he just couldn't stand to have the contacts in. Steve'd been so nervous but Eddie just teased him about commiting to an ’Indiana Jones’ look and they kinda just moved on.

Steve hadn't expected Eddie at all that night when he knocked on his door. He'd come late to ask for help stealing a tree off some wooded, government owned property. He took one look at Eddie's ridiculous smile and dancing deep eyes and threw on a parka to help.

…

Now they were attempting to get the damn thing in a stand in the white-walled, impersonal living room of the house the ‘’Department of Energy’ had provided Wayne Munson with. They managed with no small amount of grunting and sappy fingers. More than once Steve reminded himself not to stare too hard at Eddie through the pine branches. He even liked Eddie's frustrated faces, the downward curve of his lips, the wrinkling of his forehead. Jesus, I'm pathetic.

When they finished he and Eddie stood back admiring their fresh cut theft.

“Wayne's at work for another two hours. Think we can get it done ourselves before he's back?”

“Do you have decorations?”

Eddie sheepishly twisted where he stood. “I picked up some lights, and yeah, there's a box of ornaments.”

Steve stilled, bowled over by the waves of ‘adorable’ pouring off of Eddie. “Uh yeah, I think we can manage.”

—

The box was one of the few items in a very small storage room Al Munson's name was on outside of town. Eddie had been contacted once as ‘next of kin' to make payments on the thing, and that's when he went to see it himself. Inside were his dad's ‘tools of the trade,’’ some suspicious looking luggage and duffels he recognized from a hair brained scheme or two. What a lame cache, he'd thought at the time. That was before he reached the cardboard boxes in the back. They were his mother's. Winter decorations and clothes that were never brought back out when the seasons changed after her death.

It was one of those boxes he'd picked up and brought to the new place, dragging it out now for Steve. Steve stopped unraveling lights to examine the ornaments. “These look like heirlooms,” he said, carefully picking up a blue, blown glass sphere and turning it in his strong hands.

Eddie loved the care and attention Steve directed at the one piece. The way a tendril of hair fell over his forehead; the consideration on his face. Steve was already in his ‘Clark Kent look’ when Eddie'd shown up to his place that night. Which made sense, it was late, but Eddie loved the glasses on Steve. He liked the superman analogy too. Steve was basically Eddie's superman anyway.

“They were my mother's,” Eddie said, touching the edge of a carved angel's wing inside.

Steve's mouth made a small ‘o’ shape and he carefully set the ornament back into the nestled layers of tissue paper. “They're beautiful Eds.”

They decorated together, and it was easy. Eddie was warmed just being near Steve but they seemed to naturally work well together, joking and spacing the lights and decorations just right. Steve got Eddie's radio out and they listened to crackly Christmas tunes as they went along.

They finished about thirty minutes or so before Wayne's anticipated return. The men stood back to admire their handy work. Steve took his glasses off.

“Prettier that way,” Eddie asked, breathier than he wanted to sound.

Steve chuckled. “Good both ways, but yeah. One of the only perks I guess? The lights all expand and blend a bit.”

Eddie stared at Steve taking in the tree. If the lights were as fuzzy as he'd said, Steve wouldn't notice Eddie's stare. Truth be told, Eddie always wanted to stare at Steve. The lights reflected in Steve's light brown eyes… Christ, he is so pretty. Eddie's fingers itched to twine themselves with Steve's. He was dying with every little kindness Steve showed him; dying to bite the bullet and confess. He wanted to know if his crush was one sided, but if things took a different turn... Telling Steve could ruin what they had, and then who would help him steal a Christmas tree at two am?

He could live with this for now, watching Steve lit by the glow of Christmas lights they hung together.

“Thanks Stevie.”

“Anytime Eds.”

2023 RedLegumes Steddiemas 1 2 3 4 5 6 10 SteddieHolidayDrabbles 1 2 3 4 6 8 9 10

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #ao3 fanfic #i write things #stranger things #christmas tree #xmas #winter solstice #crimes #decorating the christmas tree #idiots in love #mutual pining #steddieholidaydrabbles

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undercoverpena · 10 months

Note

I have to ask (only if you're willing to talk about it), how do you cope with hate...? I got the feeling from your last answer and tags that this was not the first time. Do you have any tips on how to self-regulate? How do you stay so kind-hearted & compassionate?

The reason why i'm asking is that I'm relatively new here and dread the day I receive hate mail.

Much love to you, I adore the way you write and lift others❣️

- Fellow cancerian who doesn't want to grow too hard a shell

hello fellow 🦀 thank you for the compliment on my writing and lifting others (honestly, I just feel too much and I have to thrust it on people haha)

and honestly I don’t mind answering, I don’t really have like a hard and fast answer so I apologise for the ramble under the cut:

it depends on what is said. which I know is wildly unhelpful, but it’s the truth. the one today was like…. silly? to me anyway. it wasn’t necessary, it was just—oh let’s kick someone. and like, I’m not just saying this, but I laughed and I honestly was like, jesus you feeling okay anon, like damn.

but, I’m nothing but honest (where I can be) and there have been some that have fucking hurt. like I’ve cried my eyes out—which is a lot for saying this is fun, and a hobby.

in my corner though, I have great people. one of my friends is like my rock, and she allows me to send her the more crazy ones. and we sorta have this process of talking about it first before I make a decision about deleting/responding. for me, it helps drafting my feelings or talking them out, just so I can get rid of that ‘initial’ reaction. because sometimes I just wanna shout and tear someone a new one, but that means letting them get a rise outta me? y’know.

so once I’ve done that, we normally fall on the deleting side, because it’s important to me to create a space that I feel safe in, that I’m proud of, and that others know they can come into and also feel okay. you having a bad day and seeing that I’ve been kicked down isn’t going to do anything except us both feel poopy. so unless I can be sassy, let it roll off my back, I try now not to respond.

to return back to chirpy, annoyingly nice Jo 😏 I spend time with people i love: fandom, irl and who I live with. I may go on a walk with my dog. I may put my headphones on and blast music (celine dion power ballads hit different), and lastly, I’ll churn it into something writing wise.

writing is what helps me regulate all of my emotions. I feel so much, always have done, always will. but writing helps.

unfortunately, there’s always a chance I’ll get hate. because like irl, we don’t gel with everyone. which is why I wish people would just unfollow, block and move on, but i can't control that nor can i guarantee the former will happen. so I just try to create a space I’m happy to be in, like this overtly pink blog with all you lovely lot who follow me as I throw you in fandom after fandom.

lastly, my friend said this earlier and I’m going to quote her (she’s going to love this) “you literally get what you see with you” and she’s right. it’s not me staying so kind and compassionate, that’s just who I am (which sounds big headed, like omg I’m amazing) but I just care. and on the days where being “me” feels hard, that’s when I stay off here. because it means I need some me time to get back to a good place.

I am not sure if this was helpful, 🦀 anon (this is what I’m calling you, hope that’s okay). but my dm is always open, and so is my inbox.

pls try not to let fear stop you from sharing with the world, don’t give the prospective haters any chance to steal your shine 🩷

#asked and answered #🦀 anon #Jo gives terrible advice #resource: anons

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lothcatthree · 6 months

Text

Fic Writer 20 Questions

thank you for tagging me @forloveofcodywan (i've been wanting to do this one for a while)

under the cut so i don't plague your dash

1.) How many works do you have on ao3?

16 (i used to have >30 but i orphaned half of them bc i wrote them when i was 14 and nobody needs to see that)

2.) What’s your ao3 word count?

162,724

3.) What fandoms do you write for?

star wars all day babey. i dabbled in steve x bucky from 2017-2018 ish, but star wars has had my brain in a vice grip since 2015 (i was another victim to the sequels causing a sw renaissance).

4.) What are your top five fics by kudos?

the right feeling - from my finnpoe days :') this is part 1 of a soulmate au series. this one has 4.7k words.

i think i was blind before i met you - steve x bucky (damn we're going way back, this is 7 years old) modern au with barista steve and college student disaster bucky. 15k words.

please stay for awhile now - finnpoe, again for the win. this is part 2 of the soulmate au series. 5.6k words.

we should just kiss like real people do - finnpoe. this is the fourth and final part of the soulmate au series. hurt/comfort, recovery, all the good stuff. 8.2k words. (i suppose we all needed the soulmate finnpoe fluff in 2016, judging by these stats).

but through it all, i will need you anyways - current codywan WIP!! fix-it fic with just an insane amount of disgustingly tooth-rotting fluff. no clone death, just good feelings. this has been ENTIRELY self-indulgent and i started it when i got initial codywan brain rot. 64k words and counting!

5.) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

oh my god yes, i love comments and it puts the biggest smile on my face knowing that people took time out of their day to write something nice for my little ramblings :')

6.) What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

jesus, literally none of them. i have to do happy endings, i'm too fragile. closest would be i hate you, fuck you, please never stop looking at me which is wolfwren PWP, except they still kinda hate each other at the end. (this barely counts because i am writing a follow-up that explores more of their feelings for each other and has a happy ending)

7.) What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

ALL OF THEM. idk what to tell you. probably the cheesiest ending is the dinluke modern soulmate au i just wrote - how did i ever live without you?

8.) Do you get hate on fics?

no, thank god. i keep things pretty vanilla and i tag very thoroughly to do my best to avoid any hurt feelings. (also i've just simply been lucky to never experience that)

9.) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

oh fuck yeah. 2/3 of my fics are explicit. mostly m/m, one f/f and two m/m/m. we have fun over here.

10.) Do you write cross overs? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

no, this would break my brain. next question.

11.) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

no, unless it has been and they're very good about hiding it (doubt it, tho. i'd be a weird choice to steal from)

12.) Have you ever had a fic translated?

no, but i would love it!

13.) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

no, but i have been thinking more and more that i would love to do this!!

14.) What’s your all time favourite ship?

this is so hard. . i think codywan has been the one ship that has just slapped my across the face and gave me stockholm syndrome. I think about them.... All the Time. second closest would be finnpoe, judging on how many stories i wrote about them. and they just fit so well together and i adore their characters and they had so much chemistry and. (i'll stop now)

15.) What’s a WIP you’d like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

my brain will simply not allow me to leave a WIP uncompleted. by god, it's going to happen even if i am chaining myself to my laptop and typing through tears.

16.) What are your writing strengths?

i have received many compliments about my dialogue and smut scenes flowing very naturally :) i try to make them play like a movie and have it immersive enough that a character doesn't do/say something unnatural to make the reader stop and say wait what?

16.) What are your writing weaknesses?

oh god, PLOT and ANGST. can't do it for the life of me. i work best in oneshots so i can brain vomit and move on. i have a hard time planning out fics and i deeply envy writers that can create beautiful long fics in a timely fashion. i deeply lack the patience for something like that.

as for angst, yes i can technically do it, but it pains every cell in my body. just let the sad old gay men be happy.

17.) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

closest i have ever gotten is mando'a, but it's been very fun to learn!

18.) First fandom you wrote for?

oh boy. one direction (the aforementioned orphaned works).

19.) Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

i am cursed with "i immediately hate everything i write as soon as i release it" syndrome. recently, though, i was particularly proud of safe. warm. mine. because it was very outside of my comfort zone due to the involvement of three people and it was the first a/b/o i have written!

no pressure tags for @veelawings @apricusapollo @shy-wookiee. these are all the mutuals that write (that i know of) and haven't already been tagged (i think)! but please, anyone who i missed or who sees this and wants to chime in and tag me, please do!!!

#this prompted me to see when i made my ao3 account and it was september of 2013.....#when did i get.... Old #my writing #finnpoe #stucky #dinluke #codywan #bobadinluke #wolfwren #fic writing #ask game

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multifandomqueen01 · 2 years

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Eddie Munson Headcanons

Warning: Just some deep, sad(ish) thoughts and some straight up NSFW. (Excuse the rambling, this man is all I can think about) Please note that I don't claim these as my own headcanons.

************************************

-He tries to seem unphased by what people think of him, as we see during the cafeteria scene, but when he's alone that's when the insecurities creep in.

-Canonically we don't know why his parents aren't present in his life, but I feel like their absence has taken a toll on his self worth. He often wonders why he wasn't good enough, and this is where his need for praise and flattery comes from.

-His poor grades aren't due to lack of intelligence, but most likely undiagnosed ADHD. He struggles to focus on tasks, sit still, and tends to be very forgetful. The system has failed him since day one, which leads me to my next point.

-His sense of rebellion is more than just being a metalhead in the 80s. He knows how corrupt the system can be and how it exists to benefit a certain type of person, which he is not. I'm sure this is why he isn't surprised when he learns about the upside down and everything that the government has hidden.

-Eddie doesn't have a specific type, when it comes to appearance or social status. Although if you're going to date him, you need to understand that DND and his band will take up large chunks of his time. That being said, he'll love if you tag along.

-You don't have to be into drugs or heavy metal, but if you are that's just a bonus, and you'll have alot of fun together.

-He definitely has a tattoo gun of his own and will give you free range to tattoo him. When he realizes that he's in love with you, he'll tattoo your initials on himself without hesitation.

NSFW

-He's a switch, with more submissive tendencies. This man is a total simp and will do anything to make you happy, in and out of the bedroom. That being said, when he's had a rough day he'll be ready to put his handcuffs to work. Tying you up and using you to take out his frustrations.

-I'm OBSESSED with the idea of pussy drunk Eddie, and have seen so many posts about it. There is something about this whiney man that awakens a whole other side of me.

"Oh, Baby. Please, don't stop! Jesus Christ."

-Making out with you will turn him into a desperate mess. Lots of dry humping, and he would definitely be the type to cum in his pants. He'd be a little embarrassed at first and you'd have to assure him that you find it hot.

-Sex with him would never be a dull moment. He's the kind to have you laughing and moaning his name in the same breath.

-He's extremely verbal. The king of dirty talk and will praise you like it's his job.

"That's it, Sweetheart. Just like that."

"Oh my god, you're so fucking beautiful."

-He'll love if the action is reciprocated, wanting to know that he's doing a good job. Calling him a "Good Boy" will have him wrapped around your finger.

-He loves the idea of claiming and marking you as his own. Leaving hickeys where people can see them, and cumming inside you (slight breeding kink), with permission of course.

-He's shamlessly loud during the act, hoping that others will hear.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson imagine #stranger things 4 #stranger things

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hoffmannwrites · 1 year

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On My List

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 + 1 Masterlist

Author’s Note: I'm gonna just post part 2 now because the response has been overwhelming and also I need to ride this train until it runs outta steam, yfm?

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Description: 5 Times Steve and Eddie kiss as friends, and one time they don't.

Warnings/Tags: Everyone lives, Nobody dies, 5+1, Kissing, Fluff, Idiots to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, some pretty brief mentions for drinking, smoking, being inebriated (the gang is drunk here but nothing too bad, just in a fun way), uhhh they're gay your honor, no beta we die like Barb, vague medical issue, fainting, let me know if I missed anything?

Every Breath You Take

Two

The second time Eddie and Steve kiss it’s not really a kiss at all. Robin and Steve are working a shift at Family Video - well, trying to work at least, because Eddie’s there which means everyone’s just sort of dicking around. Steve is processing some returns while Robin and Eddie argue about some sort of incomprehensible music shit. They’re both such fucking nerds about it that it makes Steve’s head hurt hearing them discuss the rhythm vs the beat and the symbolism of the song's accompanying music videos. Steve doesn’t understand why they have to analyze everything, why they can’t just like shit.

He’s not really paying attention until he registers the panic in Robin’s voice as she suddenly pushes off the counter and says Eddie’s voice just a little too frantically. Eddie has slumped slightly forward over the counter, eyes rolled a little too far back, and not responding to her calls for him. Steve immediately jumps into action, thinking about seeing Max in an eerily similar situation, about the fits Will had when he came back. Steve grabs Eddie and lays him gently in the ground, immediately crouching over him to do CPR, not bothering to check for a pulse or breathing. Just starting compressions, counting the way he learned how while hanging out at the hospital waiting for Max and Eddie to wake up. He couldn’t just sit there, and the hospital offered free training courses in shit like this, so he went. And he’s so glad he did as he starts doing rescue breaths on Eddie, ignoring Robin’s “ohmygodohmygodohmy-“ as she struggles to remember Hopper’s number when she finally stops freaking out enough to grab the phone. It doesn’t matter though, because by the time Steve is halfway through his second set of 30, Eddie’s eyes are fluttering open and he’s breathing heavily, but just fine on his own.

“Oh thank fuc-“ Robin starts as she drops to the ground on the other side of Eddie. “Are you okay? What happened? You just-“ Robin starts rambling, panicking that this meant the worst wasn’t over.

“Robs. Give him a minute. Go grab a water bottle,” Steve softly commands, his instinct to protect and help and heal outweighing his ability to do anything else. She does as he asks, and Steve starts to help Eddie move to a sitting position. “Easy does it, man. You can keep laying on the floor for a little if you need.”

“No, no. I’m okay. Sorry. I just, uh, had a minute. It happens sometimes. Happened a lot more when I was little. Stress, ya know? Was real bad right around the time I started living with Wayne. Had a really bad couple of weeks after Bonham died, too. But since, ya know- everything, it’s been happening again.” Eddie explains, rubbing the middle of his chest where Steve had previously been pressing. Steve just nods as Robin hands him the water bottle, watching, waiting for everyone’s adrenaline to slow.

“Jesus, dude. I think you almost cracked a rib. Way to put those muscles to use,” Eddie jokes, in between sips. Steve cracks a smile, but his eyes are still filled with worry. “Thank you for trying to save my ass, but in the future, I’m just fainting. No CPR required. Just make sure I don’t hit my head on the way down,” Eddie explains.

“Sorry,” now it’s Steve’s turn to ramble. “I just went into panic mode and I didn’t even check for a pulse or-“

“Don’t sweat it.” Eddie cuts him off. “I appreciate you wanting to save my life. Again.” He adds that last part a little quieter, knocking shoulders with Harrington. As Steve helps him to his feet, he adds even quieter “You sure you didn’t just wanna plant one on me again, Big Boy?” And Robin is too busy fussing over Eddie and asking questions about his fainting and yelling at him for not warning anybody that they’re both too busy to notice the blush that creeps up Steve’s neck and the way he flexes his hands like touching Eddie hurt.

A/N: Not so fun fact! John Bonham, drummer for Led Zeppelin died in 1980 after a heavy drinking binge. This would have been absolutely devastating to a young Eddie Munson, as it was for everyone else with ears and a soul at the time.

Also, Steve does the Pride and Prejudice hand flex every time he touches Eddie. Convince me otherwise. I dare you.

#Steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #Steve x eddie #Steve Harrington x Eddie munson #stranger things #fluff #hoffmannwrites #5 + 1 #5 + 1 fic #everyone lives/nobody dies #they're gay your honor #idiots to lovers #friends to lovers #stranger things au #stranger things fanfiction #Steve Harrington saves the day #kinda #on my list

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thegardengrows-infrozenrain · 2 months

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love how tumblr tried to kill tagspam by limiting you to 30 tags with 140 chars each and also if you tag a specific way then only the first four tags will show your post in searches or whatever and also only original posts will show and not reblogs anymore (and that is ANY reblog, not just reblogs with nothing on them)

but then you still see porn bots scattershotting every trending fandom tag (plus some extras) and the only thing it's done is make rambling in the tags (and more importantly, trigger tagging posts!!!!!) needlessly difficult and also wrecked visibility if you reblog something and add to a post and then tag it with the same tags

also they broke tagging again so now the automatically added end character for each tag will eat the last few letters of a tag and also you can't actually hit the 140 character limit anymore??? you have to come like three under it or you can't add the fucking tag and it still gives you that obnoxiously condescending "Ooops!!! Tags can only be 140 characters or less!!!!" warning.

also hitting 30 tags shouldn't give me a shitfuck ass fucking "You did it. You reached 30 tags" message. just say "tag limit reached" or something c'mon you're a fuckin website and the only thing this makes me wanna do is strangle your entire fucking database center (as in the physical building. get my hands around that bricky bitch.) because i'm a fuckin tumblr user not a five year old and this whole like impersonal friendliness added to error messages and shit these days makes me so pissed.

enough with the "teeheeheehee!!! oopsie daisies!!!!!🌺🌺🌺✨✨✨ ouw code monkies cant handwe mowe dan 30 tagsie-wagsies!!!! oooh noooo 😭😭😭😞😞😞😔😔😔😕😕🙁🙁🙁☹️☹️☹️😥😥😥😨😨😨😰😰😰🫠🫠🫠wooks wike youw gonna hafta wemove some tags!!!! ❌❌❌☹️☹️☹️🥺🥺😢 but make suwe dey'we onwy 140 chawactews! da code monkies eat ur tagsies and dey get tummie aches if dey'we too wong!!!!!! ^^ uwu nya rawr >w< xDDD" type shit. just fucking tell me "character limit reached" or something is it that difficult to just give users information directly anymore??????

also fuck the errors when your internet disconnects and it's like "this is a dashboard haiku. no posts here. who knows why?" "your dashboard is empty. soon it will be lush once more" on the app. that and the stupid fucking astronaut in the fuckin alegria/corporate memphis artstyle on youtube. fuck you. i don't need you to try to be funny and make me laugh because my internet connection is slightly spotty or to be given a fuckin illustration. just say "your connection isn't working". come on, say it with me. "your" "connection" "is not" "working". was that so hard? i get it's because it's ALSO a fallback in case the servers are down for some reason but jesus christ.

at least fucking facebook and instagram just give you "failed to load. check your connection" errors when they go down and most people know if you see them while your internet is up it means the website's having trouble and to wait a while. people aren't fuckin stupid and they don't need to be hand-held when a fuckin website goes down to the point you need to be vague and qUiRkY about it.

like if this shit doesn't stop i will find a way to physically choke a server rack. you fuckin wait. i'll make a goddamn computer experience asphyxiation. i'm gonna take your fuckin machines and i'm gonna fuckin feed them orbeez until they experience whatever the computer equivalent to an intestinal blockage is.

worthless piece of shit fucking website fr

#tumblr problem #tumblr happenings #plus whatever the fuck else. i hate tagging this shit.#ryan's rants #<- i think? little blurry atm as we aren't in a good mood rn #<- not that there's a reason for it? sometimes you just wake up sad #venting i guess #ranting #this post got a little off topic tbh #in my defense i got started talking and couldn't stop til i got all my fuckin ideas out #adhd shit fr

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theautisticschizo · 24 hours

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Hello and welcome to my Blog!💗🦭🌈

Here is my Introduction! :

Name : Lucas

Pronouns : He/Him and It/Its (do NOT use she/her or they/them

Age : 24 turning 25 in October

Relationship status : Married to my Soulmate (Together for almost 8 years and Married for almost 5 years)

My identity : I'm grey aroace aka only have attraction and love for my Husband. I'm trans masc and used to be on Testosterone but had to stop due to circumstances. Trying to resume it

My disabilities : Paranoid Schizophrenic, Late Dx Level 2 / Moderate support needs Autistic person. PTSD. POTS and Heart Arrhythmia

My Special Interests : Mikaela hyakuya from Owari No Seraph/ Seraph of the End and his romantic and soulmate relationship with Yuichiro Hyakuya aka the ship "Mikayuu". Harbor Seals. Perfumes, especially high end brands.

I'm fully verbal with occasional Verbal Shutdowns. Thats why I sometimes use an AAC app for verbal communication.

DNI :

If you're going to flirt with me or try to recruit me into Poly stuff or anything like that. I am STRICTLY Monogamous and Married. Stuff like that makes me uncomfortable and is disrespectful to my Marriage!

If you're Homophobic, Transphobic or Queerphobic in general

If you're Racist and support Genocide like in Gaza, Congo etc

If you're sexist, misogynistic or misandrist

If you're a republican or conservative or a trump supporter

If you support Biden and his actions

If you're a Pedophile or a MAP. And if you're into DDLG/B, ABDL, Diaper Lover or anything that sexualizes Age regression or Littles

If you're Ableist and/or a Aspie Supremacist

If you don't believe in Support Needs Labels or Levels

If you're Sanist

If you use your Religion to be anything listed above, esp if you're Christian! God loves all his children, esp use queer and trans ones and anything that is outside of a Cis White Heterosexual Men. If you dont accept that, you're not following God / Jesus. Thats my stance

If you like to do "Schizoposting" jokes or anything Ableist against Schizo-spec or Psychotic people

If you attack people for being Self Dx. You can have your own opinion about it but do NOT attack others for their opinion

If you're LSN/Lvl 1 and shit on M-HSN/lvl 2-3 because we're not the same as you or aren't capable of doing the same as you

If you make jokes like "I'm in your walls" or "I know where you live", "I'm watching you through your cameras" etc.

BYI :

Please use Tone Tags! I will try and remember to use them too!

I have really bad memory due to Schizophrenia, so I apologize if I forget important stuff

People have told me I can come across as rude. I DON'T TRY TO BE!! If I come across as Rude, please know I'm not trying to be! Unless I use Insults at you or you do something bad (like stated in my DNI)

Please know that I'm bad in interactions! I try my best but I can be weird or "too much" sometimes

Schizophrenia is also a thought disorder, so sometimes I could do weird Rambles or Word Salads

I'm paranoid 24/7, so I might ask questions that dont make sense or sound accusatory. I apologize for that!

Linktree :

Thanks for Reading!! I will edit this if I want to add more stuff :D

#moderate support needs #actually autistic #seraph of the end #owari no seraph #mikaela hyakuya #mikayuu #actually schizophrenic #actually psychotic #schizophrenia #intro post #introduction #pinned intro #introductory post #blog intro #msn autistic #medium support needs #level 2 autism #level 2 autistic

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lollybliz · 1 year

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I posted 10,204 times in 2022

80 posts created (1%)

10,124 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@maddymayhearts

@calicotomcat

@extreme-technicality

@astralwashboard

@arctic-hands

I tagged 3,047 of my posts in 2022

#laugh rule - 123 posts

#tears of the kingdom - 108 posts

#lemony scented - 72 posts

#bliz spams - 50 posts

#bliz rambles - 50 posts

#lu spoilers - 18 posts

#asks - 18 posts

#linked universe - 16 posts

#genshin 2.7 stream spoilers - 14 posts

#xiaother - 14 posts

Longest Tag: 132 characters

#and this pig just ✨️✨️✨️coincidentally✨️✨️✨️wanders around in the middle of the afternoon on schooldays in the teen and juv sections

My Top Posts in 2022:

Screaming and ripping and tearing and crying and howling and shredding and scratching and barking and

I get it. I do. And the loss of any safe piracy hosts is always to be grieved because that's access being denied to countless people who never would have had access otherwise. But book piracy specifically is The Only Piracy That Actually Hurts Someone. Please just uSE YOUR LOCAL FUCKING LIBRARY JESUS CHRIST. we're RIGHT HERE. we're FREE. and we don't MAKE THE PUBLISHERS SO MAD THEY CANCEL CONTRACTS WITH THE AUTHORS LEAVING THEM WITH ZERO INCOME. when you pirate books, various publishing companies have ways of keeping an eye on the ratio between purchased and pirated copies of a specific book in question. A lot of the time, if that number goes too high, instead of I don't know ~cracking down on piracy sites~ or ~putting the books on sale~ they blame the author and cut the contract. Meaning the author stops getting paid entirely. And that's the BETTER outcome. That ✨️clever tiktok trick✨️ for renting reading and returning books on amazon? Oho my friend someone still pays for that book! Guess who! THATS RIGHT THE AUTHOR.

I g e t the need for free books. Everything is expensive right now and $20 for a book that will take you a day to read feels obscene. Go to your local library. Don't gimme that 'but they don't have the book I want' shit--have you Asked? Because beloved guess what? When we genuinely don't have a book you want to read we reach out to sister branches in the area until we find a copy for you! It's called an interlibrary loan and it's completely normal! Sometimes there's a shipping fee if it had to come across state borders. Did you know you can also suggest books we add to our catalogue? And I remind you getting a library card is free. And we have half dozen online resources that are also made free by your having a library card. You Do need a piece of mail with 'your' address on it but besties. Y'all. Do you think we have the kind of time to check if you're giving us Your address or your Grandparent's address? No. Just give us the address of some family member in the area, it doesn't really matter much, you can change or update it whenever. Don't tell anyone I suggested that though lol.

On a very selfish level, our counties don't like giving us our yearly budget. The old cis white capitalist men, shockingly, don't seem to like the beacon of socialism that is public libraries. A lot of the time the excuse they use to literally just not pay us is 'the youth of today don't use libraries anymore, they're more interested in *insert 'them video games' schpiel*'

If you came to the library they wouldn't have that excuse anymore. We're not the cardigan wearing shushers in the movies I swear. We've got Mario kart wii in our teen room.

I'm sorry you lost your book piracy website, genuinely I am. You should have been using the library all along though. Pirating books Does hurt the author. And libraries nowadays have massive digital catalogues so even if you aren't physically close to one there is enormous f r e e benefit to getting a library card. Please god go to your local library

29 notes - Posted November 5, 2022

Liking a mutual's vaguely concerning personal post is like I see you I hear you i am bringing you a cup of tea and a weighted blanket I am holding you i am holding you i am holding you

39 notes - Posted October 11, 2022

If I had to see this so do you

102 notes - Posted November 10, 2022

No you don't understand your honor I love him

137 notes - Posted May 17, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Sorry not sorry for the person im going to be for the next year

I have SO MANY QUESTIONS

See the full post

313 notes - Posted September 13, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #look at my evidence of being online too much boy #im the voice in your tumblrs boy #bliz rambles

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dreamifics · 3 years

Text

Love and Monsters

Steve Harrington x Reader!Henderson

Oneshot

Y/N Henderson's life was not like any other normal teenager's life, on a very young age her only friends was her brother, Dustin and his friends.. She was not popular in highschool, but she was not a nobody neither.. Y/N was just invisible, lost in the sea of students.. She was almost through highschool though, one day her life was turned upside down, literally and figuratively.. It's been months since the 'thing' happend, but she was still shaken up.

Y/N was laying in bed, My Generation blasting from her stereo.. She was home alone, her mother was out with some friends, her brother was hanging out with 'King Steve'.. Ever since Steve helped them about Dart, she grew closer to Steve but their short lived friendship ended when Dustin left for camp and Steve worked on their family business while she was stuck preparing herself for college.. Y/N misses Steve, his unfunny jokes and oh god--his laugh..

A loud knock startled her, she shot up from her bed, memories of what happend was flashing back to her.. Despite what she tells her friend, she was not okay.. She almost died twice and that opened up trauma's and issues within herself..

Another loud knock startled her, Y/N shakes her head and just ran to the door.. Reaching their front door, her icy hands made contact with the cold steel knob..

It revealed a disheveled Dustin and Steve, she could tell that there were excitement dripping all over them.. Steve was still wearing his sailor work uniform, he looked cute to Y/N but she once threw that thought in the back of her mind..

"What's up?" She questioned the two.

Dustin just smiled and pushed pass her, while Steve was reluctant to go in.. Steve avoided Y/N for almost the whole summer because of the daunting realization that he was catching feelings for her and that scared him.. Y/N was the kind of girl that likes to watch nerdy movies, spend hours playing games with a bunch of kids and save the world two times.. However, Steve was scared, he was still stuck in the unjustified rules of highschool and popularity. . He still wanted to be 'King Steve', but he also wanted to be Y/N's..

"Nice outfit, sailor boy.." Y/N winked and laughs at Steve, he just shakes his head and went inside their house..

Steve made his way to Dustin's room with Y/N right behind him, but before reaching Dustin's room, he passed Y/N's room.. He unconsciously stopped as he looks around, observing every corner of her room.

There were posters plastered all over her walls, books were all around her room in her bed, shelves and even floors.. In the other side she had a small collection of music that made Steve smile.. Because they had the exact same taste, she is the perfect girl.

"If you want to go in, you're free to wander around my room, anytime.."

Steve turned around to face Y/N, he misses her.. How Y/N sarcastic remarks leave her sweet lips or how she rolls her eyes whenever she see something stupid.

"I might just take you up on that.."

"Hm-mm.. You didn't even talk to me when Dustin left, you broke my heart, Steviee.." She jokes, but it sounded a little bitter.

Y/N did get hurt, Steve stopped talking to her when Dustin left, it seems like Steve didn't really like her as much as she thinks he did. Y/N was bored and got stuck just studying and sometimes hanging out with the party.. It was fun but she was looking forward to hanging out with Steve.

"I'm sorry about that, I didn't want to see my old friends hanging out with someone like yo---" Steve stopped his sentence, he didn't mean that.. His mind was a mess, he said those things because he didn't want Y/N finding out his stupid feelings

"Right..Yeah, I get it.."

"Y/N that's not what I me--"

"Cause King Steve shouldn't be hanging out with people like me?Gotcha.."

Steve didn't even had the time to reply, he was met with Y/N's slamming door.. He didn't mean that.. Steve loved hanging out with Y/N, he want to give her something special.. Steve wanted something more from Y/N.. He knew exactly what and he didn't need a reason why but Steve wanted to give Y/N something more..

Y/N was hurt, she didn't know why but Steve words brought devastation to her.. She felt disappointed and upset, Y/N was expecting something special.. She didn't know what or why but she was expecting something more from Steve.

Y/N was dropping off Dustin to the mall where Steve was working, her lips were in a unsual frown.. Y/N wasn't usally like this, she was having a bad week, Steve just hurt her feelings and she was taking it much harder, it was very unsual.. The two Henderson was making their way to the Scoops Ahoy shop, Dustin was rambling about a message he picked up while contacting his girlfriend.

"Are you listening?" Her brother asked as they reach the store.

"Yepp, you should go in now.."

"Y/N, this could be a good thing!"

"I know..If you need my help, you can find me in the food court.."

"Y/N.."

"Yeah, Dus?"

"Are you okay?"

Y/N's mind went blank, she hated lying to her brother but she didn't want to worry anyone. She laughs and messed Dustin's hair.

"Of course.. Now go, you know where to find me.." With that she left..

Y/N was not okay, the last time she slept was a month ago.. Nightmares kept crawling back to her, she was growing more paranoid by the day.. She was not okay, but she couldn't tell anyone that.. Everyone else is okay, even Wil who had it more rough than her. And to top that up, she was broken hearted by Steve's rejection of their friendship.. Y/N just massaged the bridge of her nose, when will she be fine?

Dustin and Steve was in the corner of the mall with binoculars in their eyes, Steve saw Y/N.. Sitting alone in the corner, a walkman in her ears and a book in hand.. Y/N was mouthing the word as her eyes read every word on that book and Steve couldn't help but feel all giddy and guilty inside.

"You see anything?" Dustin snapped Steve back to their current task.

"Uh, I guess I don't totally know what I'm looking for.'' Steve answered honestly, Y/N distracted him again.

"Evil Russians."

"Yeah, exactly. I don't know what an evil Russian looks like."

"All blond, not smiling."

"Mm-hmm?" Steve's eyes didn't looked for any Russians, his eyes drifted to Y/N spot but she was gone.. Where did she go? He couldn't help but worry, was she talking to someone else?

"Also, look for earpieces, camo, duffel bags, that sort of thing." Dustin added.

"Right, okay, duffel bags." Steve darts his eyes away from Y/N seat but it only fell on a girl he asked out earlier.

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me." Steve mutters.

"What?" Dustin questioned.

"Anna Jacobi's talking with that meathead Mark Lewinsky."

"If you're not gonna focus, just gimme the binoculars."

Dustin got annoyed by his distracted partner, he should have brought his sister along.. But he knew that Y/N was not okay, she seemed distant and lost in her own mind.. Always spacing out and Dustin can hear her cries from his room, it killed him to see her loving and hyper sister transform into a walking corpse.

"Aw, Jesus Christ, whatever happened to standards?"

"I mean, Lewinsky never even came off the bench." Steve rambled on, annoying Dustin.

"Dude, you are the worst spy in history, you know that?"

The two fought for the binoculars, but they just looked stupid.. Dustin initially gave up and gave the binoculars to Steve.

"I don't get why you're looking at girls. You have the perfect one in front of you."

"Seriously, if you say Robin again..." Steve closes his eyes waiting for Robin's name to come up but it never did.

"No, Y/N.. My sister.."

Steve's heart clenched at the mention of her name, he wants Y/N too.. What can he do? Y/N hates his ass now, he was a jerk and he didn't deserve Y/N.

"No, man, she's not my type." Steve answered while he diverts his eyes away from Dustin.

"I saw you staring at her closed door for about 5 minutes."

Steve eyes grew wide at the realization that Dustin was watching the whole time.. Dustin just shakes his head, if he was asked he'd say that her sister felt the same way..

"She's not even... in the ballpark of what my type is, all right?"

"What's your type again? Not awesome?"

"Thank you."

"Hm."

"For you information, your sister is too sarcastic, she's too nerdy for me.."

"Also, she's too...boyish.."

Beautiful, that's what he wanted to say..

"Dude, that's my sister you're talking about, and besides she's not like that.. She's nerdy but so what? Y/N's also not boyish, she's just secured with her masculinity.."

Dustin's word echoed throughout Steve's system, he already knew that.. But somehow hearing it from another person's perspective made him like you more.

"Y/N's just not my type.." He lied..

Y/N was everything he ever wanted in a girl.

"Thanks for the clarification, Harrington." A voice surprised the two.

Y/N was standing behind them, her arms crossed.. Steve's eyes widen in surprise, did she hear everything? He didn't mean that, what did he mean?

"I didn't mean t--"

"Dustin, if you told me you'll stalk people in malls, I should've brought you to a psychiatrist.." Y/N ignored Steve and just focused on her brother.. Y/N would be lying if she haven't felt more hurt by the words Steve dropped.. She had been listening since the talk about girls came up, Y/N spotted the two doing eccentric things and she decided to eavesdrop.

"No, it's called spying.." Dustin rolled his eyes at her sister remarks while Steve was still frozen..

"What's the difference?" Y/N asked, her eyes still focused on he brother..

"It's just different, okay? Were looking for the--" Dustin stopped and looks around to see if anybody was near..

"Russians?" Y/N continued in a loud tone.

"Shh!" Both Steve and her brother shushed her. Y/N was surpised, she glares at the two and moved closer to them.

"Fine, can I tag along? I'm bored and it'll be nice to be a national hero."

The two looked at each other, Steve was nervous.. Y/N obviously didn't want him around, but this could be a chance for him to apologize to Y/N.

"Sure, you can help us look for russians with dufflebags and camo." Dustin pulled her sister to his side.

"That's kinda racis--"

"No, it's not!" Dustin cuts her sister off making Y/N laugh..

"Whatever you say Dus.."

And that's how she ended up inside a theater with two kids and two drugged teenagere.. Y/N's breathing was heavy, they were captured by Russians just moments ago.. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins, she thought this town was finally normal again, but turns out she was wrong.. Very very wrong..

They needed to get out of this hellish mall, Y/N need to find out if there's still russians lurking out, looking for them.

"The two of you need to stay here and take care of them." Y/N instructs to her brother, she pointed at a floopy Steve and Robin.

"Wait--Where are you going?!" Dustin stopped her by pulling her arm.

"I'm going to see if those fuckers are still looking for us.."

"No, we'll come with you.."

"Dustin, you need to stay here and keep a low profile.."

"Y/N don't be a hero.."

"Hey, Dipshit!I'm not trying to be a hero, what I'm doing is protecting you guys because our two friends are drugged and beaten while we brought a little kid into our mess!And I will do everything to keep you all safe, even if that means I get hurt or killed!"

Dustin knew that there's no talking Y/N out of this, her sister was right.. Taking a deep breath, he just nods and hugs her sister..

"Just please, stay safe.." Dustin was in the verge of tears but Y/N held him tight in her arms.. Dustin pulled back, Y/N gave her brother a comforting smile, she rubbed his cheeks and pat his head.

"I'll be okay, I'm a Henderson for god's sake.."

Dustin laughs as tears stroll in his face, she kissed his forehead and walked away, trying not to attract attention.. Taking a deep breath she left the theater, she'll do whatever it takes to keep her brother and her friends.. Y/N's mind flew to Steve, she was pissed off but she was not sure anymore.. The way he saved them and got beat up for them, she couldn't find a reason to be mad at him, all she can think about is his childlish look and how hot he is in his sailor uniform. Y/N just shakes those thoughts away and tried to focus on her task..

Russians..

Steve and Robin were throwing up in a seperate cubicles, they were getting the drugs out of their system.. Retching and puking can be heard all through out the theater bathroom, Steve groans and flushes the toilet.

"The ceiling stopped spinning for me. Is it still spinning for you?" Robin's voice can be heard from the other cubicle.

"Holy shit. No. You think we puked it all up?" Steve rested his back to the mini wall inside the cubicle..

"Maybe. Ask me something.."

"Interrogate me." Robin said in a mocking russian accent.

"Okay. Interrogate you. Sure. Um... When was the last time you, uh, peed your pants?"

"Today."

"What?"

"When the Russian doctor took out the bone saw."

"Oh... All right, my turn."

"Okay. Hit me."

"Have you... ever been in love?"

"Yep. Nancy Wheeler. First semester, senior year." Steve imitates a gunshot.

"Are you still in love with Nancy?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I found someone else, she's a little bit better for me.It's crazy. Ever since Dustin got home, he's been saying, 'You know, you gotta find your Suzie. You gotta find your Suzie.' "

"Wait, who's Suzie?"

"It's some girl from camp, I guess his girlfriend. To be honest with you, I'm not 100% sure she's even real."

" But that's not- that's not really the point. That doesn't matter. The point is, this girl, you know, the one that I like, it's somebody that I... didn't even talk to in school. And I don't even know why."

"Maybe 'cause Tommy H. would've made fun of me or... I wouldn't be... prom king. It's stupid. I mean, Dustin's right, it's all just a bunch of bullshit anyways. Because, when I think about it, I should've been hanging out with this girl the whole time."

"First of all, she hates me now because of a stupid thing I said but when we hanged out, we were bonding and shit.. She was perfect for me, she's nerdy, hangs out with kids too much.. She likes the same things I like, her brother is my bestfriend.. Sometimes I wonder if she's real, because she's too perfect."

"Wait--You like Y/N?"

"Yeah, ever since last year.. I like her so damn much, I can't even believe that I said to her that I shouldn't be hanging out with someone like her."

"YOU SAID THAT?" Robin's voice boomed out all over the bathroom, Steve just sighs and slids out of the cubicle..

"Unfortunately, yes.."

Steve slid in to Robins cubicle, she was glaring at him.

"If you ask me, Y/N doesn't deserve someone like me.. She--She's too nice to be caught up in my miserable life.. And besides she would never like me.."

"I think you're still high.."

"No, I'm not.."

"Do you remember what I said about Click's class? About me being jealous and, like, obsessed?"

"Yeah?"

"It isn't because I had a crush on you. It's because... she wouldn't stop staring at you.."

"Mrs. Click?" Robin chuckles and just shakes her head.

"Y/N Henderson, I wanted her to look at me. But... she couldn't pull her eyes away from you and your stupid hair. And I didn't understand, because you would get bagel crumbs all over the floor. And you asked dumb questions. And you were a douchebag. And- And you didn't even like her then and... I would go home... and just scream into my pillow."

"But Y/N's a girl.."

"Steve.."

"Oh.."

"Yeah, now listen..Don't give me the 'she doesn't deserve me' and 'she doesn't like me back' crap.. Y/N was inlove with you since highschool, now you will tell her all about your mushy mushy feelings and you'll two will get married, have kids and you'll have me to thank for. "

"But what about you?"

"Please, I moved on.."

"Really?"

"Hell yeah, with my pretty face?I could find someone in a jiffy!"

The two were laughing when Dustin and Ericka burst into the bathroom.. Annoyance and frustration written all over their face..

"Okay.What the hell?!" Dustin asked very annoyed.

"Dude, we're normal again.."

"That's not the problem now, we need to find Y/N and go with the rest of the party."

"Y/N's not with you?"

"Do you see her?" Erica asked with the normal sass in her voice. Robin rolls her eyes at Erica who just glares at her.

"Where did she go?" Steve ignored Erica's sarcastic question

"She said she'll check the perimeter, but she hasn't come back since." Dustin answered, she was worried for her sister.. In their situation, who wouldn't?

"Shit." Steve and Robin both utter at the same time.

Y/N was changed into a much more inauspicious clothes, it was just some pants and a shirt tucked into it.. She fixed her disheveled hair and wiped her sweat.. She needed to blend in, her eyes wander around the mall.. There were Russians walking around, bviously looking for someone and that someone was them.. All the exits are heavily guarded by guards, there's no way out..

Taking a deep breath she walked back to the theater, praying that her brother and friends was safely still there but before she could even reached the theater, a russian man spotted her..

"I got eyes on one of the target!" The russian said into his earpiece, making Y/N run to the higher level of the mall, her heart racing and she was starting to feel tired.

Y/N just ran until she lost the russian, her breathing was getting shorter by the second.. Y/N's leg was starting to hurt but she ignored it and looked down to see if she can spot her brother..

And there they are, getting chased by guards.. Worries pumped into her brain as they run.. She needed to help them, if not they could get killed.

"Hey stupid spies!I'm right up here, morons!" Y/N screamed at the top of her lungs as she waves her hands around..

Steve and Dustin was horrified as they hide into the counters, Y/N was risking her life for theirs..

The guards that was chasing them made eye contact and targeted Y/N but before they could do anything a car honk.. The russians looked at each other, confused and dazed.. Eleven can be seen controlling the car, she throws it at the bad men and all they could hear were groans..

Y/N felt a surge of relief, she made her way to her brother.. Dustin, Robin, Erica and Steve pop out from behind the counter, steam hissing.. Y/N saw her brother and they all rushed up to hug her..

A tight hug welcomed Y/N, but this hug wasn't just from Dustin.. It was also from Robin, Erica and Steve.. Suddenly they all look up to see the rest of the party.. The hug was cut off by Dustin running to hug Mike and Eleven.

"Lucas?" Erica saw her brother and it made Lucas confuse..

"What are you doing here?"

Y/N who was just taking in deep breaths smiled to herself.. They were safe, but she knew this was not over.. Steve stayed in Y/N side, Robin's word replayed in his mind.. This is his chance to say his undying love to Y/N.

"Y/N?"

"Hmm?" Y/N saw Steve besides her, she was growing tired but Y/N needed to keep thriving for everyone.. Y/N saw that Steve was hesitant, he was nervous and it made her felt nervous too.

"I--I uhh.." Steve mumbles, his tongue was backing out.. Y/N had such a powerful effect on him, to the way she says his name, and everytime Y/N calls him, his heart skips a beat.. It sounds corny, but it was true..

"What?Do you need a speak and spell?" Y/N joked, it didn't help a struggling Steve.. He started to grew more anxious, he needed to get this off his chest.. This could be the last time they all see each other alive, there's no telling what could happen to them.

Y/N was just staring at him

"I have something to confess---"

Steve was cut off by El who was in pain and grunting in the floor.. They all ran to her aid and helped her with the pain she was going through.. Steve slightly curses at himself, maybe this was not a great time for a love confession.. He needed to focus on surviving this hellish adventure.. Again

It finally ended.. Y/N was relieved, it was over.. They were safe, Y/N and Dustin were sitting in the back of an ambulance, a blanket around them as they hug each other..

"If this shit happens again, we're moving.." Y/N jokes.. Dustin chuckled, maybe they should.. However, the adventures were growing more fun and dangerous..

"Nah, we love being heroes.."

Y/N laughs as she held her brother tighter, she fixed his hair and wipe some dirt off his face.. Even if he's old now, he'll always be Y/N's baby brother.. She smiled at the memory of Suzie and Dustin singing in the middle of mayhem and chaos.

"Stooop, I'm all grown up now!" He stood up and made his way to his friends..

"Don't get too far, lover boy!" Y/N shouted causing Dustin's cheek to blush..

Y/N sighs at the sight of her brother walking away from her, this is the last time she'll save the world, she was tired of monsters.. Y/N was just enjoying the cold air of the night when someone cleared their throat.

"Hello to you Harrington.." Y/N smiled at Steve, he was just standing infront of her.. Y/N can't help but feel giddy when Steve's in his sailor outfit.. It saddens her that Steve was still stuck in his highschool mindset..

"I have something to tell you.." Steve mumbles incoherently, but Y/N understood it.. Steve was always nervous when Y/N's around, he remember the first time he saw Y/N..

Steve saw Dustin on the street asking for help, and he didn't believe at him first but he was soon convinced by how Dustin was nervous and scared.. They pulled up at the Henderson's residence, that's where he first saw--no that's not the right word..

That's where he first acknowledged Y/N..

She was sitting on the porch steps on her pajama's, there were dirt on her face and her hairs a mess.. Y/N's face lighten up when he saw Dustin getting out of the car..

"Hey Dus------What is he doing here?" Y/N's face dropped when he saw Steve also getting out of the car.

"He's our back up.." Her brother answered short and continue walking into the entrance of the basement.

"I'm back up..'' Steve said cocky at Y/N, she just scoffs and followed Dustin..

"For a guy with a black eye, you're awfully confident.."

"That's what seeing a pretty girl like you does to me.." Steve didn't know what he ate that time but he had this whole new confidence when he started talking to Y/N.. However, Y/N didn't seem impressed to his corny jokes and pick up lines, she was always scoffing and rolling her eyes..

"Yeah, you said that too when we were inside..That" Y/N's voice pulled him back to the present.. Y/N gestured at the burning mall infront of them.

"Yeah.." Steve cleared his throat, he opens his mouth, but the words won't come out he's chokin', how, everybody's jokin' now, the clocks run out, times up, over, blaow .

"Are you gonna say something?" Y/N was starting to get nervous, did she do something to make Steve act strange? He was shaking, the sweat on his forehead is flowing like the Niagara Falls.. That's not attractive yet for some reason she found it hot..

"Oh--Yeah--Uhh.." He failed to say words again, why can't he just go straight to the point?

Robin who was with the rest of the party was staring at a stuttering and nervous Steve.. The rest started to notice even Jonathan and Nancy who was in each others arms..

"When is he gonna tell my sister that he likes her?" Dustin ponder as he stares at the two..

"I don't know, he's taking forever just uttering one sentence.." Lucas pitched in making the others laugh..

"I thought Steve was a suave and cool guy?" Mike jokes causing some of them to laugh, some was just quiet.. They were still having a hard time grasping all of this, especially Max..

"He's a nerd just like you guys.." Nancy answered, they all shake their heads as they watch Steve nervously fidgets..

"Alright, I finally had enough.." Robin whispers, the party turned to Robin, carefulky watching to what she had under her sleeves..

"HEY Y/N!" Robin shouts..

Y/N broke her gaze with Steve and brought it to a shouting Robin, not far from them.. Steve just froze to his place, panic started blaring out through his mind..

"WHAT STEVE'S TRYING TO SAY IS HE FREAKING LIKES YOU!" Robin shouted, and it all made them freeze.. Y/N blinked rapidly, did she hear that right? Steve l-likes her? What? When? How? Where?

Steve felt embarrased, he wanted the crawl in a hole and die.. Robin was dead to him, how could she do that? Now Y/N's gonna start to avoid him, she obviously doesn't like her back.

"I-Is that true?" Y/N finally asked the question she was dying to ask, she never really thought about Steve that way.. Fine, she's not gonna lie, there were some thoughts about Steve that kept her up at night..

"I can explain--If you don't feel the same it's totally fi----" Steve panicked and randomly said any excuses he can think off, not giving Y/N a chance to speak..

Y/N rolled her eyes at how Steve was rambling on, she smiled and stands up.. Pulling Steve sailor outfit, she kissed him..

Steve pressed his lips harder on Y/N, he wanted this kiss to happen since he first saw her.. And now it's happening, Y/N puts her arm around Steve's neck.. This was her first kiss and she was glad that it was to Steve.. They both kissed as the burning Star Court crumbles infront of them. Y/N didn't knew that you can find love and monsters in this terrifying situation..

Dustin groaned at the sight of her sister and bestfriend kissing, he wanted to vomit and scoop his eyes out.. This was not a sight for sore eyes..

"Ugh!I don't want to watch my sister exchange salivas with Harrington!" Dustin sigh under his breath

"Get used to it, you'll be seeing a lot of him.." Robin teased making Dustin die inside.

"Dammit!"

Y/N was just thinking that some people lost someone special, Eleven lost Hopper.. Max lost Billy and the rest will wake up in the morning with terrible memories haunting them everyday, they can no longer feel the assurance that they're safe in the quiet town they grew up to. They knew everything that lies withing the depths of this ground, all the horrible things that Hawkin Labs brought.. Chief Hopper and Billy Hargrove died for them, they were heroes.. And the sad part is, no one will ever know.. Those who deserves to be recognized is no longer here, the heroine act they did save the world yet the world doesn't even know about them.. But Y/N and the rest knows that the sacrifices they made won't go to waste, they'll do everything in their power to keep whatever haunts this eerie town at bay.

I found this highly nice but cringey at the same time so bear with it, I also wanted to update my series about James Potter but I just can't seem to end it ughhhhh..Anyways, I hope you guys like this one..

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#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #imagines #stranger things #oneshots #request

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sinnaminsuga · 3 years

Text

Title: Money Counter Part 2

Summary: Just the filthy continuation of the first part of this mess

Word Count: 2629

Warnings: smut, power struggle, slapping, choking, rough sex, a tad violent, a little blood, daddy!kink, i think that's it if i missed something let me know!

A/N: hello again! the beautiful @connieisland popped into my messages and inspired me to make a part 2 to my latest fic and this is what i came up with! feedback is appreciated! thank you for reading! ❤️

Link To Part 1: right here

Tags: @october505 @infinite-shite @hope-to-hell @inlovewithhisblueeyes @littlefreya @viking-raider @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @foodieforthoughts @raspberrydreamclouds @wendimydarling @oddsnendsfanfics @its--fandom--darling @the-soot-sprite @connieisland @feralrunaway @oddduckthatgirl

There was no mistaking the groan and shudder that ran through that dangerous man’s body when you spoke softly into his ear. “Now. Let's talk about your punishment for doubting me. You'll be a good boy for me, won't you darling?”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Henry’s grip tightened on your waist. “I demand control in all aspects of my life. I don't give that up easily.” he growled.

“So I'll just take. What. I. Want.” you hissed, shoving him backwards swiftly, his broad back hitting the sturdy wood of the table with a muted thud. His eyes widened in surprise at the quick change of his position. Before he could really even adjust, you straddled his waist and leaned down to suckle at the soft tender skin of his neck. You wedged your hands between the already straining buttons of his dress shirt and pulled as hard as you could, sending the buttons flying in every direction. Henry groaned as your lips continued their assault down his now bare chest. You moved slowly and lapped at the skin above his waistband as your hands palmed at his solid length through his pants.

“Well fuck! Are you going to do something or what? I'm dying here!” He all but whined, hands scrabbling for purchase, meeting nothing but loose hundred dollar bills. You giggled to yourself as you fondled him, doing no more and no less than you had been. His hands crumpled the copious amounts of money and as he became frustrated with your lack of desire to do anything but fuck with him, he threw the cash as a feral scream tore from his throat.

Suddenly you were the one at a loss for words as your body was pulled up and flipped over onto your back, thrown into the position Henry was just in. Henry hovered above you, eyes frantically scanning your dress clad form. “Too much.” was all he ground out, not unlike a caveman, before using one hand to tear your dress right down the middle, and making quick work of your panties as well. “HENRY! Do you know how much that dress cost?!” You shrieked, slamming your fists into his chest.

He caught your flailing limbs and pinned them on either side of your head. “Don't care. Get you a new one later. Fuck baby, I can smell you. Like raspberries. And sugar.” Henry moaned lowly, running his nose along your jugular, sharp teeth grazing over your buzzing skin. You couldn't stop the shiver that wracked your body, your sensitive core pulsing around nothing.

“Needy little thing aren't you? You want me? Tell me you do. Because I want you. More than anything. Say you want me, want this, and I’ll take you to levels of ecstasy you’ve never even thought of. Would you like that?” Henry whispered, his knuckles running over your steadily weeping entrance. You whined out a “yes”, lifting your hips looking for friction.

As soon as he got your permission, Henry was on you, his thick strong tongue diving into your lush cavern. You fell victim to his honey coated tongue and soft hums rumbling from his chest. He repeatedly flicked his tongue over your sensitive clit with the vigor of a starving man, pulling sugar sweet moans from your throat. He used his thumbs to pull your folds apart and marvel at the depraved sight that was your aching cunt. You flinched a bit when you felt the pads of Henry’s fingers ghosting over your most sensitive place. He ran his fingers through the sticky sweet slick dripping from you, coating them thoroughly before raising them to his mouth and sucking them clean. The animalistic growl that tore its way out of him was something you’d never grow tired of hearing. When he sank his tongue back into you and curled it in such a way that it rubbed against that spongy flesh inside you, your hand flew to his thick mass of curls atop his head. You could feel him grin against your damp flesh before he lifted his gaze to meet yours.

“Come on sweetheart. Beg me for it. Beg me to cum.” He hissed with a grin. The smile on his face wavered just a fraction when he felt your sharp nails dig into his scalp, sending sparks of pain shooting down his spine.

Tightening your fist around the handful of his hair you had in your hand, you pulled his head up and met his eyes with fury burning in yours. “Fuck you. I don’t beg for a goddamn thing. Never have. Never will.” You ground out between your teeth. Never breaking eye contact with you, he huffed out a laugh and said “Then I guess, I'll just. Take. What. I. Want.”

With a speed you've never experienced, you were flipped over onto your stomach, breasts mashed against the now forgotten money. You attempted to push yourself up onto your forearms but Henry’s broad hand quickly shoved you back down. The lack of control agitated you and you turned as much as you could in his grasp, wriggling your way into a half turned position. Henry attempted to turn you back onto your front and your palm connected with his cheek with a resounding CRACK that echoed in the room.

The force of the slap you delivered had split his lower lip after it collided with his bottom teeth. Henry brought his thumb to his mouth to assess the wound, blood coating his fingertip. You raised an eyebrow at him as if to say “What are you going to do about it?”. A wicked grin split his face, baring his glittering white teeth to you. “Oh you little bitch! You asked for it.” Henry bellowed, his hands once again finding your waist and manhandling you to your front where he had you before. The only difference was his massive hand pressing the side of your face into the wood of the table.

The metal clanging of his belt coming undone sent your body into a frenzy, your pussy clamping down hard around nothing but air. The soft rustle of fabric being pulled down was followed by the sound Henry moaning just a bit as his hand made contact with his engorged manhood. You managed to turn your head under his hand just to get a glimpse of his glorious cock. You knew it would be massive, no one carried themselves around like Henry did if they weren't packing some serious heat.

His erection stood proudly at the apex of his thighs and you shuddered at what you saw next. He held his length out steady, and let a mouthful of spit pour out from between his pillowy lips to land directly onto his shaft. He wiped the excess drool from his mouth with the back of his hand before using it to pump himself, his own spit slicking the way. You keened, watching him intently. When he was ready, he leaned in close so his mouth was against the shell of your ear and his tip notched against your opening.

“I want to fuck you now. But I don't know if you deserve it. Submit to me, wildling,-” you stiffened beneath him, ready to fight him off again, but he continued speaking with his hushed tone. “-and I’ll make you touch the stars. It doesn't make you weak, to let someone else take care of you, you know. I know what you want, what you need, sweetheart but I need to hear you say it. Let me give it to you. Cmon baby.” he murmured.

You weren't ready to say anything just yet and he could tell, so he slowly slid the tip of himself into you, punching out a whimper from your chest. But then he stopped. No movement, nothing. “You can have the rest if you use your words, love. Cmon. Just say it. I gotta hear you say it. Please please please.” Henry rambled, his forehead pressed to the side of your head. Your cunt squeezed around what small piece of him had pushed inside of you, attempting to suck him in further. You burned with need, the ache almost becoming painful. You gritted your teeth, trying to wait him out for about another minute. Then you gave in, the need coursing through you taking over and making you a soft, pliant, whimpering mess. You fell limp against the table and tried to push back onto him.

“Oh god please! I cant take it anymore! I cant go another minute without you inside me! Please oh god please Henry please fuck me please I’m begging you!” you cried, begging was foreign to you and it caused shame and tears to soak your cheeks. Henry brushed your hair behind your ear as he tutted at you. “See? Was that so hard darling? I’ll give you what you need. Shhh don't cry. I'm gonna make it all better okay?” He cooed, lapping up the briney tears that streaked your face as he pushed into you. He bottomed out inside you and you howled with the feeling of being so complete. He pulled back and slammed into you again, his tip kissing your cervix.

“Jesus fucking christ woman you're so tight. Like a god damn virgin. You take me so well. Do you feel me? Here?” Henry splayed his massive hand over your lower stomach. You were unable to form coherent thoughts or words so you nodded as best you could. His palm once again slid up your back and sunk into the hair at the back of your head. He roughly yanked your head back causing you to gasp and sputter. “I'm going to fuck you like an animal. I’m not going to be nice and i'm not going to be gentle but that's what you want isn't it?” Henry spat, his hips beginning to piston his cock in and out of you at a rapid pace. He kept spewing filth into your ear as he moved in and out of you, grinding your clit against the table causing the most delicious sensation that teetered on the razor thin edge of pleasure and pain.

“I’m going to fill you up over and over and over again until your hungry little hole is spilling over with my cum. I want to see it drip out of you. Maybe I’ll give you a baby, would you like that, little one? Yeah I want to see you round with my child.” Henry spewed his heated words as his heavy length plundered your channel. Your walls squeezed him, attempting to force him out but also suck him back in at the same time. Your body moved against the table but your brain was mush. He hooked his hand under your left knee and pulled your leg up to rest on the table, opening you further. He tipped his hips at just the right angle, hitting that spot inside you causing you to scream out.

“Oh god yes Daddy!” rolled off your lips and you felt Henry’s rhythm falter.

“Oh sweetheart, I could get used to that. Say it again. Let me hear you.” he moaned.

“Fuck me Daddy! P-please! I-i need to c-cum!” you whined, pathetic and broken. Henry stopped moving for just long enough to gently turn you over onto your back, never slipping out of you. He picked up his pace once again before answering.

“Go ahead pretty girl. Cum on my cock. Yeahhhh just like that baby. Fuck! You're squeezing me so tight” he snarled, massive hands tightening and bruising your waist. You felt the coil in the pit of your stomach snap as you came around him, sparks of unbelievable pleasure shooting up your spine and radiating out to the tips of your fingers. Bliss took over your body and a strangled cry clawed it's way up your throat and out into the hot air between you two.

Henry kept fucking into you as you rode out the aftershocks of your orgasm, drawing little “Ah!” sounds from your sweet mouth. He halted his movements long enough to lift your naked form into his arms to continue fucking you while in the air. You noted the fact that you were moving around the room but you didn't know where and to be honest you didn't really care as most of your attention was firmly focused on the slick rod impaling you repeatedly. Suddenly your back met the wood of the door and Henry’s right hand snaked it's way up and settled around your vulnerable throat, applying a good amount of pressure.

“Cmon baby give me another one. I know you can. Give it to me. Give it to Daddy, yeah?” Henry barked through clamped teeth, hammering up into you harder and harder with every thrust. His hand on your throat tightened, limiting your speech. That hand left your neck and weaseled it's way between your bodies to rub fast tight little circles over your clit causing you to gasp. Henry rushed forward and licked into your open mouth and your hands flew to his shoulders, sinking your nails into the supple flesh. Neither of you realized how hard he was railing you against the door until you heard the splintering of wood and the crash of metal as the locking mechanism in the door gave way at the same time that you came around his throbbing length once again. There was now a hole in the door but neither of you gave a fuck. Henry pulled you tight against his chest and continued to piston in and out of you at a near punishing pace, now chasing his own high.

“Fuck! I-i’m gonna cum sweetheart. I’m gonna cum inside you. Fill you up real good. Put a baby in you. God fuc- shit! Oh my god!” Henry roared and thrashed like an animal as he shot deep inside you, soothing your aching womb with his seed.

He lowered you both to the ground so you were straddling his lap, still full of him. You rested your head on his shoulder, the both of you panting desperately attempting to fill your lungs with the sex-thick air. Henry's fingers danced up your spine as you relaxed against him.

“We made quite the mess, young lady.” he mumbled, nudging you to turn your head and look. The money you had been tasked with counting now littered the entire room, your supplies for banding the stacks of cash strewn about the floor.

“Yes I suppose we did. Wanna make another one?” You snickered, tightening your walls around his softening length inside you. He let out a low hiss before delivering a light snack to your ass.

“Let me get you to my bedroom first, you heathen.” Henry remarked with a grin as he planted a kiss on your shoulder. “Well cmon then Daddy. Show me what else you got.” You giggled with your hands on either side of his face.

Henry’s broad frame shook with his laughter before he looked you in the eyes, his glinting with mischief. His tongue ran up the column of your throat, lapping up the salty sweat glistening on your skin before whispering “Oh I’ll show you what I’ve got darling. Don't you worry.”

Your response died on your lips as his teeth sank into the meat of your shoulder. This man had ruined you for anyone else. And you couldn't find it in yourself to even pretend to be mad about it.

THE END

#henry cavill #the cavillry #henry x reader #henry cavill smut

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supernaturalgirl20 · 3 years

Text

Catching Feelings

Pairings: Marcus Moreno x nanny!reader

Warnings: Smut +18, fluff, angst, mutual pining.

Summary: After your sex filled dream about your new boss, your about to meet his daughter. This isn’t going to be awkward at all, right?!

*As always comments and reblogs appreciated*

Chapter 2:

The evening arrived sooner than anticipated. As the car that Marcus had sent round for you pulled into the drive, you find yourself gaping at the beautiful rustic home. You get out of the car and make your way to the front door, your nervous, which isn't helped by the fact you had illicit thoughts about Marcus last night. Oh god! Those hands and the thought of them slipping between your legs. No! Focus. You ring the door bell. Your lost in thought when a voice startles you

"Oh thank god your here, come in quick. Can you cook?"

"Uh.....yeah I'm not bad at it. I make a mean chicken alfredo"!

"Fuck.....sorry sorry.....Missy I didn't just say that."

“Is everything ok?”I say looking towards the kitchen. Missy grabs me by the hand and pulls along. I’m greeted to the sight of pure chaos. Marcus is hunched over the sink, seemingly in defeat and I can’t help myself I let out a laugh. He turns around with lightening speed, his hand goes to scratch the back of his head. Something he must do when he’s nervous. I catch a tinge of pink on his face.

“He’s a disaster in the kitchen, seriously you should see what he does to eggs.” I turn to Missy

“Ok, here’s the plan. How about me and you clean up this mess and then you can help me cook something up?” Shrugging her shoulders she says “sure.”

“Uh.. I will just..”

I turn to Marcus “ you….will go relax and we will call when foods ready.”

“Are you sure, I feel bad.”

“Dad just go.”

Holding his hands up in defeat “ ok ok, I know where I’m not wanted.” With Marcus gone Missy turns to you “ok let’s get to it.”

***

With the kitchen clean you fish out the ingredients to do your chicken Alfredo, explaining each step to Missy as you go.

“Is it always this chaotic at dinner or was that just for my benefit you say with humour in your voice. Missy let’s out a snort.

“Oh no that’s pretty much how it around here. My mom. Used to do the coming and since she’s gone dad tries his best but… I don’t know. My abuela normally cooks.” You see she is getting sad talking about her mom so you change the subject.

“Ok looks ready, give your dad a shout”

You all sat together around the table. “This is delicious, you are amazing.”

“Oh …thank you”

“Missy is right, this is the best meal I’ve had in a long time, really thank you. Also maybe don’t tell my mom I just said that.” You laugh at the fact that this grown man, and a heroic no less is still afraid of mom. Catching his eyes, his gaze is searing into you, you look away quickly trying to distract yourself . Standing you go to clear the table but are stopped with a hand on your wrist. Looking up you meet those warm brown eyes again. “No, you’ve done more than enough tonight. Leave all the cleaning to me and Missy.You can go sit in my study and I’ll bring you a glass of wine. Oh it’s just down the end of the hall.”

“Um… ok thank you.” Once you arrive into his study you can’t help but notice all the pictures he has. One in particular catches your eye. It’s one of Marcus kissing his wife the day Missy was born.

“I love that picture.” You jump slightly having not expected him to be there. “ I’m sorry I wasn’t snooping I just..”

“It’s ok, if your going to be living here you should know about our family.” You look up at him surprised “does that mean I got the job?”

“You we’re amazing tonight” he says moving closer, so close you can feel the warmth coming off his body. “Plus you have the Missy deal of approval, which really is the most important thing.” It’s as if she knew her name has been mentioned. She came bustling down the stairs all kitted out for bed. She comes up to you and without eating wraps you in a hug.

“I’m so happy your going to be living here with us, and thank you again for the nice food.” With that she ran back up the stairs to bed. Marcus gestures for you to sit.

“You have a beautiful home” you say looking around the room.

“It is…beautiful.” Clearing his throat he takes a seat beside you, leaving a comfortable amount of space between you. Your not sure if your relieved or disappointed. You make conversation by asking him about his wife. He takes a sip of wine before he speaks.

“It’s been four years since she passed. It was a car accident, drunk driver, she died instantly. He suddenly go quiet and stares at the floor like it’s the most fascinating thing. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned her.” “It’s ok, it’s only fair you know these things. Enough about me, tell me what makes you thick?”

“Me, oh gosh. I suppose family really. It’s why I jumped at this opportunity, I love children. It’s probably why I want a big family of my own one day.” He’s looking at you that way again. There’s something behind his eyes, you think it’s admiration.

“ I feel the exact same way. Everything that I do, it’s for Missy. Nothing else matters.”

“She’s a wonderful kid, you should be really proud.”

“Thank you.” Your suddenly aware that you both have somehow moved closer and your breath catches when you look into those brown eyes. A bolt of confidence course through you and you lean towards him. Marcus mimics your actions. As you inch closer you close your eyes. He whispers your name and you can’t tell if it’s a promise or a warning. Your still dreaming when he spills his wine all over you. “I’m so sorry here let me get something to dry that up” he’s says as he leaves the rooms be arrives back with a towel, and a change of clothes. “ I’m afraid this is all I have.” You look down to the clothes he has and notice there his own, a t shirt.

“No, thank you these are perfect.” With that he leaves you to change while he goes and refills the wine. When he walks back in he almost drops the glasses. His eyes rake over your body and he feels himself getting hard his thick cock straining in his pants. Seeing you there in his clothes is doing things to him. It’s making him almost feral. He wants to posses you. He is brought out of his thought when you move to take the glass from him.

***

You spend hours chatting getting to know each other when you look at his clock. “Oh god, I better go, I didn’t realise the time”. You go to stand.

“You can stay, I mean here, in the spare room, if you want?” Thinking it over for just a moment “that would be great actually.”

“Ok I can show you where to go.” As you enter the room you see a large king size bed, and the images from your dream flood your mind.

“I want you to ride me baby.”

“Y/N?”

“Sorry did you say something?” “ I said you can start moving your stuff in whenever you like.”

“Brilliant.”

Your unconsciously biting your lip and when you meet his gaze you notice his eyes are fixed on your mouth. You run your tongue along the bottom lip,knowing he is watching you. He clears his throat “ok uh…I guess I’ll let you get settled for the night”. He makes to leave when you say

“You could stay here too!” He stops suddenly turning to look at you. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. Afraid you have ruined everything you say “I’m so sorry, forget I said anything, thank you again…” Your rambling is cut short as his presses his lips to your hungrily. His hands trace the curve of your body, slipping under your top to grab your breast. You let out a moan. Suddenly he pulls away and rests his head to yours. “Are you sure you want this, I won’t be able to stop once we start.” “I’ve thought of nothing else since we met yesterday. Please Marcus, I need you to fuck me.”

He wastes no time and pushes you onto the bed removing the sweatpants he lent you earlier along with the t-shirt. Your laying on the bed in nothing but your underwear and he can’t take his eyes off you. “Your gorgeous.” “Marcus you have too many clothes on” you say with a slight pout. Stripping himself so he is completely bare before you,you gulp as you take in his thick cock. Will that even fit! He crawls on top of you and you moan when his obvious desire for your comes in contact with your core. You rock against him. He rolls onto his back pulling you with him so you are now straddling him. His hands run up and down your spine sending sparks of electricity through you. He moves to unclasp your bra “you won’t be needing this anymore.” Your nipples grow hard as they meet the cool air and you let out a gasp as he runs his tongue over its peak. Your growing inpatient now so you quickly remove your thong and line him up at your entrance. Slowly you sink down on him and his head pushes back into the pillow as he groans in pleasure. “Jesus, your so fucking tight.” You pick up your pace as you ride him letting out a loud moan. He puts a hand over your mouth “you gotta be…quiet…don’t….want…Missy..to…hear us” He look down to where your joined watching as his cock moves in and out of you “this pussy was made for me, isn’t that right baby?” Your unable to speak as your body is thrown into ecstasy. Without warning he flips you over and begins pounding into. He can feel his balls tighten as he nears his release. “Where…do ..you want..me?” “Inside, I’m clean and on the pill.” With that he fills you up, you can feel his release dripping out of you. He moves off you and makes his way into the bathroom. Arriving back with a cloth to clean you up. He gets back into bed beside you and wraps his arm around your waist. “That is not how I pictured tonight going at all.” You laugh “me either.” “You should get some sleep” he says and you feel your eyes getting heavy as you give in to the tiredness.

The next morning you wake to sunlight shining on your face. As you turn over you realise your alone. You put your hand on the side Marcus was and it’s cold, meaning he’s gone a while. You flop back onto the bed and put your hand on your forehead. Oh god what have I done.

Previous/next

Tagging:

@lunaserenade , @asta-lily , @maievdenoir , @librariantothejedi , @seasonschange-butpeopledont , @elinedjarin , @day-off-inkyoto @toomanystoriessolittletime

If you want to be added or removed please let me know.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #marcus moreno x female reader

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professorsnape394 · 3 years

Text

The Potions Master’s Apprentice

Chapter Eighteen: Faith

A/N: This is the Eighteenth part to my fanfiction ‘The Potions Master’s Apprentice (Severus Snape x OC)’. Chapters 1-18 can also be found already uploaded on Wattpad under the same name. Feel free to leave requests in my inbox for anything Snape related you want me to write. Leave a comment below or send me a message if you wish to be added to my tag list.

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC (Dumbledore’s Granddaughter)

Summary: A talented young witch is employed as an apprentice professor at Hogwarts, but who will she be working under? Severus Snape is not best pleased with his new responsibility of taking on an apprentice, however she is relentless to create a friendship between them. Will she be successful? Or might the friendship just go a little two far? With the eyes of her grandfather constantly watching over them, an attempt at a relationship might not be in the cards for Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Word Count: 4199

Warnings: n/a

Credits to Gif Creator

The rapping of knuckles against the old oak door echoed throughout the potions master's office. Breaking through the thick silence that had engulfed the room, a wave of anxiety washed over Severus Snape.

"Can I not go one day without you bothering me, Miss Dumbledore." Snape complained, trying to hide slight crack of nervousness in his voice.

"Sadly, Severus, it is not your beloved Miss Dumbledore." A thick Bulgarian accent announced.

Admittedly disappointed by the unveiling of his visitor, Severus lowered himself back down into his chair, not willing to make an effort for anyone but his apprentice.

"Why are you here, Igor. You should have learned your lesson by now to leave me alone." He said, rubbing his eyes back into focus and running a hand through his hair lazily.

"I have something you'll want to hear." Karkaroff divulged mysteriously, plopping himself down on the chair across from the professor.

"I do not imagine anything you have to say is of any interest to me."

"Then lucky for you Snape, I won't be the one talking."

Unbothered by the man's deliberate awkwardness, Severus allowed him to ramble on, too exhausted to argue with him.

With a flick of his wand and a small puff off smoke, the space between the two men began to whirl and spin, slowly forming a picture-like image in the air, the scene beginning to unfold. Revealing a staff room full of unusually dressed professors, the focus turned to a small cluster of teachers gathered in the centre of the room. Recognising both Igor Karkaroff and Aria Dumbledore sitting side by side on the old couch, Snape grew suspicious of the man's intentions.

"Why are you showing me this?" Severus asked, unsure of whether he wanted to see what was about to happen.

"Just listen." The Durmstrang headmaster hissed.

"How do I feel about Snape?" Aria wondered, the scene enclosing in on her.

"He's... curious. He has the capacity for love and friendship just like the rest of us, yet he chooses to be mean-spirited."

"I don't want to hear this." Snape declared, turning his eyes away from the woman.

"You must." Igor demanded.

"...he can be mean and arrogant and cruel. And despite it all I try my best to show him kindness, but where does that get me? He calls me out in front of practically the whole school? That was so fucking humiliating, and I'm just supposed to forgive him? I think it's safe to say I'd live a happy life if I were to never see that man again."

Severus felt his heart drop in his chest, unable to process what he had just heard. Slowly a sharp ringing in his ears grew louder and louder, deafening him to the scene before him, as well as the reality in which he existed. He refused to believe the woman he cared so much about, the woman who had demanded to be his friend, had lied about everything. Did she truly hate him beneath her annoyingly cheerful demeanour, was it all a façade?

He wanted to insist Karkaroff had fabricated the whole thing, but he knew exactly what spell he had cast, there was no way he could have faked it.

A deep rage grew within the man, an anger he had not felt in a number of decades. Severus Snape prided himself on having a monotone disposition, void of all emotion. But that familiar feeling of being betrayed by someone he trusted brought forward a plethora of pent up emotions, namely anger and frustration.

A wide, devilish grin spread across Karkaroff's face, satisfied by his colleague's reaction.

"You see now what she is truly like, Severus. You see now that she was playing you all along. That girl pretends to be your friend to keep her job, not because she likes you." Igor laughed maliciously. "You and I both know what is coming, and when it does, Dumbledore is prepared to replace you. Even he knows where your true loyalties lie. Do not be fooled into thinking the Dumbledore's are your friends. They use you for their own advantage, but the second you are no longer useful, or you become a threat to them, you'll be taken down by any means necessary."

"You're lying." Snape tried to convince himself, refusing to meet the professors gaze. "You're scared of what he will do to you if he returns. You need an alliance with someone on the inside."

"He has returned, you must feel it just as I do." The ex-deatheater practically screamed.

"I will not be manipulated by you Igor. This changes nothing, the girl was nothing but a distraction."

"We both know that isn't true." He sniggered, attempting once last time to convince Snape. "Do you know what she said to me, the last time I was in this office? She told me she could never be with a man like you, she told me your actions were unforgivable. I can prove that as well if you don't believe me."

"Get out, Igor. Just leave." Severus exhaled, starting to pace slowly behind his desk. He knew Karkaroff was trying to manipulate him, he was not stupid enough to fall for that. But proof does not lie, and the facts remain. Everything he was saying true, there was no denying it.

With a short bow, Igor danced out of the room. Completely satisfied with the havoc he'd reeked. He'd successfully toyed with what little emotions the great dungeon bat had left. And who's to say what can happen when Severus Snape's feelings get hurt?

Hoot. Hoot.

The bird bleated as it swooped through the open window.

"Another letter for the pile?" Aria sighed to herself. "Will he ever stop?"

Whoo.

It purred in response.

The witch couldn't help but laugh at the coincidence.

"You know exactly who." She giggled, plucking the envelope from the creatures beak, and throwing it on the ever growing pile.

"I just wish he would give me some time to think, you know?" She asked turning back to the barn owl, only to witness it taking off, disappearing into the distance.

Look at me. I'm talking to a bird. She thought with a roll of her eyes. I need to get some sleep.

Catching a glimpse of herself reflection of the window, Aria decided she needed to freshen herself up with a little pamper time, finishing the day off with a very long and well deserved nap.

Dumping almost a whole bottle of bubble bath into the tub, topping with springs of lavender and dried chamomile, Aria plunged herself deep into the warm water.

Relaxing for approximately 2.5 seconds, the woman flew out of the bath, her naked body sopping with bubbles, dripping puddles of water as she explored her quarters impatiently.

"Why can I never find any of my books when I need them most!" She groaned, shivering from the sudden change in temperature as goose bumps formed all over her arms and legs.

Letting out a single yelp of excitement, Aria grabbed the first book she laid eyes on and dived back into her tub.

"Pride and Prejudice, of course." She mumbled, thinking back to that night Severus visited her quarters.

As she read and her mind wandered, Aria found herself making unconscious comparisons between the infamous, brooding Mr. Darcy, and her stern, yet lovable Potions mentor, Severus Snape. They were both mildly rude and arrogant, determined to never show their true emotions, but deep down it was quite possible that they loved more fiercely than anyone ever could.

Elizabeth Bennet enchanted Darcy mind, body and soul. If only there were someone brave enough to do the same to Professor Snape. Aria thought, as she allowed herself to drift off to sleep in the water.

Hours later a thunderously loud 'Bang' frightened Aria awake.

Although not positively sure of how much later it was, she could be certain a decent sleep was had given the icy temperature of the water.

Aria allowed herself a moment to come to, bracing herself against the cold, her was body aching from the ceramic constraints of the tub.

A series of bangs came this time, chapping very loudly on her chamber door. Who ever it was was clearly extremely impatient, forcing her to hurry herself up.

Wrapping herself in nothing but a white cotton towel, the witch slid her way through her rooms to the door. Clearly she wasn't even awake enough to remember where she was, and that answering her door half naked wasn't exactly professional.

Bang. Bang. BANG.

The knocks reverberated through her body, sending shivers down her spine.

Gingerly she opened the door, revealing a more than pissed off Severus Snape.

"Severus." She yawned. "What's wrong?"

"Don't act dumb with me, girl. I am not falling for this act any longer." He snapped.

"What act, Severus? Why are you here?"

"Just tell me why?" He seethed. "Why did go to so much trouble trying to convince me to be your friend, only to confess to Karkaroff, as well as the rest of the Hogwarts staff, your true feelings. Why couldn't you just leave me alone."

"Severus listen, I think we need to talk about this in private. Please come in."

"So you can try and seduce me again? I don't think so. Jesus, look at the state of you, are you really that desperate to entice me? What's next, showing up to dinner completely naked? You really are just as I thought." The potions master growled, his pitch back eyes looking her up and down.

"Severus stop" Aria begged. "I thought we had moved past all this."

"So did I. But considering you have deemed me as "unforgivable" then there doesn't appear to be much point in trying to redeem myself, does there?"

"But you're only going to make everything worse. Let me explain myself, please."

"There is nothing to explain, I shall be putting in a formal request for the headmaster to employ a separate tutor for your apprenticeship in the morning, so you never have to see me again."

The professor stormed off, just as quickly as he had arrived, achieving exactly what he had come to do; humiliate Aria Dumbledore.

Desperate to apologise for her cruel words, Aria made to follow Severus to his classroom.

Forgetting her attire, or rather lack of, she was soon reminded of it when a crowd of Slytherin students erupted in a fit laughter with its fair share of cat-calls and whistles. Clearly they had emerged from their common room to investigate the noise, but stayed for the show of the two arguing potions professors.

"Nice legs, Miss." One of the older boys called, sending a wink in her direction.

Shit. She mumbled under her breath, rushing back to her quarters to change.

Hair still dripping wet, Aria shoved it into a bun on top of her head and pulled on some shorts and an oversized t-shirt, before hunting down the potions master.

"Severus, open the door." She called, upon initially finding it to be locked.

He didn't even bother to reply.

Fine. She thought. I'll do it myself.

"Alohomora." The lock burst apart, allowing the door to slowly creep open, revealing a dishevelled and distressed professor sitting at his desk.

"Severus, please." She whispered softly, realising he had clearly come down from his short outburst of rage.

"Get out." He commanded, though he didn't make any effort to remove his head from his hands.

"Let's talk about this." The woman pleaded, pulling a chair up next to the man. "Let me explain everything."

Snape stirred from his position the closer she came, until finally he was able to look her in the eye.

"Go on." He droned. His eyes red and blood shot, whether it was from lack of sleep or tears was unclear.

"You know more than anyone that Karkaroff cannot be trusted-"

"Don't try and lie to me, Miss Dumbledore. I saw the whole thing with my own eyes." Snape snapped.

"Will you let me finish. I'm not lying to you, Severus." Aria promised. "I said what I said because I didn't want them to know the truth, Karkaroff especially. I don't know what his problem is but I know he's up to something and it involves you. You really think I'd answer any question he asked me truthfully. You're my friend, Severus, I care about you, and that man is a snake for trying to turn us against each other."

"Why should I believe you. I've barely known you a few months, I've known Igor decades."

"That is precisely why you should believe me. He's not your friend, Severus. If he was he'd be able to see the real you; the man behind the mask." She urged, begging for his trust.

Reaching out her hand to take his, Aria stroked a thumb over the cold and calloused hand of her friend.

"And who might that be?" Severus questioned in return, feeling slightly nervous under her touch, but not enough to want to pull away.

"A man." She stated simply. "Not a beast, as you and many others may presume. A good, and decent man. Perhaps he's a even a little bit scared, of what I'm not entirely sure yet. But I will find out one day, if you'll allow me, that is. Let me be your friend, Severus. Let me see what you hide from everyone else. And I promise, I'll be there for you when it matters most."

Her sweet soft tones encapsulated Severus. He had become so lost in her words and her touch that without realising he found himself falling for her speech wholeheartedly. He even risked settling his remaining hand upon hers, clasping her delicate fist between his palms.

"Well then I suppose an apology is in order. I believe I may have acted rather rash and unprofessional."

"There's really no need. You reacted just as you should have to the things you heard. I would have done the same thing in your circumstance." Aria admitted, removing her hand from his, as she made to stand up. "Though there is one thing you could do to make it up to me." She suggested.

"Dare I even ask?" Severus joked.

"I want to know what Karkaroff's after. Tell me how you know him. Why does he care so much about your life?"

Snape practically laughed in response.

"We may be friends now, Miss Dumbledore, but I'm afraid that information is rather personal. And I am not convinced we are quite at that stage in our friendship, just yet."

"I respect that." She shrugged, knowing he wasn't about to give in that easily. "I suppose that just means we'll have to get to know each other a bit more." She smiled almost ear to ear at the prospect.

"What do you have planned for your lesson today, Professor Dumbledore?" Severus queried, finally using the woman's rightful professional title.

"Ooooh 'Professor' now, am I?" She smirked, sashaying in front of her co-worker, balancing a handful of potion ingredients in her arms.

"I suppose that is your given title after all, I might as well start using it."

"Hmmm I'm not sure. I think it make's me sound too much like my grandfather. I'm not sure I could pull of the beard quite as well, what do you think?" She giggled, holding her long hair in front of her chin, imitating the old wizard playfully before clumsily dropping another dozen bottles on the table.

Severus tried his hardest to conceal his smile, busying himself with paper work, but however hard he tried he could not hide it from Aria. Every so often she managed to catch him off guard, with a silly joke, or a quick witted comment, in those rare times he allowed himself a glimmer of emotion she always managed to notice. Most of the time Severus found himself smiling at the woman for no reason other than she was simply smiling too.

Finally turning her attention away from the potions master, Aria finished setting up her table full of small bottles and vials.

"We're going to play a game." She announced cheerfully spinning on her heel.

"A game?" Severus asked, unable to stop himself turning his nose up at her idea.

"Yes. It's like a test, but more fun." She persuaded, sensing his judgement.

"And what, might I ask, is wrong with a traditional test." He queried bitterly.

"The students need motivation, Severus. The word 'test' makes people nervous. With nervousness comes panic, and with panic comes mistakes. Fear is not an accurate motivator, however competition is. The students will be less inclined to make mistakes, if they are rewarded for their efforts." The apprentice hypothesised.

"And this reward is?"

"I haven't decided yet."

Severus fought the urge to roll his eyes, but allowed her to do her thing uninterrupted.

Since their little 'heart to heart' that night in Snape's office the two professors were finding working with each other a lot more amiable. Severus had given Aria a little more free reign with her portion of the lessons, which in turn, allowed her to respect Severus' strict theoretical practices without causing too many interruptions. The pair had almost started to enjoy working together.

Student by student the class trickled in, each of them intrigued by the new set up of the class room.

"Everyone please take your seats, do not touch the table at the front of the room, class will begin momentarily." Miss Dumbledore announced.

A moment of panic set in as Aria scrambled around Snape's desk, looking for her list of possible potions. This may not have been her first time teaching solo, but it was, however, her opportunity to prove her practices are successful in front of her mentor, Severus Snape. The man in question could see the fear in her eyes, and that she was desperate to impress.

"Here." He mouthed, handing her the piece of parchment. "Relax."

Brushing fingers, as she took the parchment from him, Aria grinned.

"Thank you." She whispered, once again turning to face the class, now with a little more confidence.

"Now today, as you may have guessed, we are going to do something a little different. Professor Snape and I have chosen to take this opportunity to allow you, our promising young N.E.W.Ts students, to show off your skill set to the best of your ability's. On this table in front of me you will find a select variety of potions ingredients that correspond to a number of potions all very much within your capability, your task is to complete one of these potions within the allotted time, at the end of which, a winner will be selected by us."

"What do we win then, professor?" One eager student asked.

"A potion of their choice." She declared, impulsively.

A murmer of chatter instantly broke out among the class, intrigued at the prospect of winning such a thing.

"That all sounds very exciting, Miss Dumbledore." Snape cut in, unwilling to take a backseat quite so easily. "However, sadly as an apprentice professor you are not permitted to take anything from my stores to use so frivolously. The prize will have to be decided at a later time."

Unsurprisingly the students weren't too pleased with Snape's intervention causing for a series of disappointed groans and heckles.

"Then I shall make it myself." Aria concluded.

Another bout of cheers erupted.

"Collect your ingredients, light up your cauldrons, your time starts now!"

Immediately the students jumped from their seats, swarming the table to get what they needed. The professors moved away from the crowd, giving the class a moment to get started.

"Miss Dumbledore, this is not a wise decision." Severus spoke in hushed tones. "I understand entirely the prize of a potion chosen by you, but to give them a choice could be extremely dangerous, think of the chaos that will ensue."

"How about you have a little faith in them for once. Trust that they will make the right decision."

Looking down on the woman, Severus couldn't help but trust she would be right.

"I have faith in you. Not in them." He made clear.

Severus made to walk away, leaving Aria to relish in her small victory, until he was suddenly pulled back by the young woman's hand in his. Not saying a word, Aria Dumbledore gave him an appreciative squeeze, before releasing him back to his desk.

The first hour of the classes passed by effortlessly, the students worked quietly and Severus found no reason to complain. All in all, Aria was quite pleased with how her lesson was going.

That was until...

"Oh shiiiiit."

"Language Mr. Lawrence." Severus warned, briefly looking up from his marking.

"Right, sorry sir. But what the fuck am I supposed to do when this thing starts bubbling like crazy." He freaked out, completely ignoring the potions master's warning.

"What?" Aria gasped, only just becoming aware of the situation.

"Yeah like this thing looks likes 'bout to blow, to be honest with you." The seventh year Hufflepuff boy informed nonchalantly.

"Step away from that cauldron students, quickly!" Aria ordered, ushering them to the sides of the classroom. "You were attempting a wit-sharpening potion, is that correct?"

"Yup."

"I'm afraid there's no saving it now, Mr. Lawrence, the best we can hope for is that it does not turn to acid and burn through bench."

"Out of my way." Severus huffed impatiently, forcing his way through the crowd of students that had formed around the cauldron.

"Pass me that root of ginger" Snape demanded, positioning himself in front of the ever growing cauldron of bubbling green liquid. Aria obeyed hastily, as the professor performed what she could only describe as a miracle on this horrifying concoction. "Some more newt spleens." He requested, holding out a hand expectantly, while the other gripped onto his wand, casting an enchantment over the potion.

The potions master continued adding a bit of this and a dash of that to the potion, all ingredients Aria Dumbledore would never have considered to associate with this particular brew. Jars of herbs, spices and animal parts were passed through the classroom in order to reach Professor Snape who continuously stirred the potion, muttering all sorts of charms and spells.

However skilled Aria had assumed she was at the art of potion making, it was made clear to her that she was no match for Severus' skills, brewing potions was second nature to him now. Within minutes he had achieved what Aria Dumbledore had deemed impossible, and thus the potion was brought back to it's natural state.

"Severus..." The apprentice gawped. "That was amazing."

"That was nothing." He replied curtly, removing himself from the scene. "Everybody back to work, this is not an excuse to slack off."

Still in awe at the pure artistry she had witnessed, Aria trotted sheepishly back to the front of the class.

Blissfully unaware of the pure talent they had just seen, the students continued on with their work. The Hufflepuff boy did not even have the decency to thank his professor for salvaging the mess he called a potion, let alone be grateful he never received a detention, or deduction of house points.

"What are you staring at, Miss Dumbledore, is there no better way you can spend your time?"

"I'm sorry Severus, but that display was just... brilliant." She beamed.

"Like I said, it was nothing. It comes with the job, I refuse to have any of those delinquents burn through my entire store cupboard because they cannot brew a simple potion, a year below their level no less."

"Well, at least we know who definitely won't be winning anyway." Aria giggled.

"The most we can hope for from that boy is that he manages to finish his potion, god knows he'll need it."

Playfully slapping Snape on the arm for his cheek, the witch perched herself on the edge of the professor's desk, attempting a quick sketch on a scrap piece of parchment, while the students begun to finish off their potions.

"Professor Snape, the winner?" Aria asked, turning to her colleague for a verdict once all of the potions had been completed.

"You want me to choose?" Severus replied, skeptical of her offer.

"Of course. I don't think it would be fair of me to do it, considering I've been giving all of them tips this lesson."

"Very well." He droned, stepping forth to analyse the contents of the cauldrons.

"This one." He announced, pointing a single finger to the cauldron of a young Slytherin witch. "Given that it was the only potion brewed to complete perfection, there is no other possible candidate. I suggest the rest of you get studying before your N.E.W.T's exams, at the rate you lot are going, none of you besides Miss Johnstone here is likely to pass." Snape scolded.

"Well then, congratulations Miss Johnstone, you are the winner of a potion of your choice. See me after lessons tomorrow and let me know your decision."

The girl practically beamed with pride, expecting nothing less than first place.

"Class dismissed."

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@ayamenimthiriel @lizlil

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heresathreebee · 3 years

Text

Brackish And Briny Waters (three)

[Ralph Lamont X Female Reader]

Summary: Spend the weekend painting the house with your husband. Previous Masterlist Next

Tags: 17+ | 1.6k words | Painting a house together, aka domestic stuff, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, pulling out, vague mention of rats.

AN: part 4 is gonna get angsty I just finished it

Anything involving greens was a heavy battle between you two, as Ralph seemed to have some kind of vendetta against them. The more blue you got, the less you fought and you eventually settled on a cool tone to use for the laundry room with a compromise to paint floral accents in a forest green tone along the edges of the back wall. You did find an exact replica of one of the original wallpapers in your second bedroom which you wanted to move to the living room.

Colors selected and purchased, you went home starving and managed to scrape together some left overs with a side of rice to fuel you to start on the real work. You also bought brown paper to cover the solar room window holes until you can finish that room as its own project.

Ralph rolls up his sleeves and puts on his bleach stained lounge pants to help. You lay down tarp and use up 3 rolls of tape to cover the kitchen and the dining room. Every window and door is wide open as you set your record player to play some 'whistle while you work' type of albums. And whistle he does that husband of yours, enjoying your company and shaking his hips dramatically to make you laugh. You two haven't had this much fun in so long it feels like.

The summer citrus color you chose for the kitchen was really working for you. Ralph intended to put the wallpaper up in the other room to get 'double the work done' but still you find him working the same wall just to be close to you. You talk about missing that classic NYC pizza and dinner tomorrow and Ralph promises to ask his colleagues about any music shops in the area.

You take a nap on the porch swing to get away from the paint fumes, an iced tea almost slipping from your hand. When dinner time comes, you cook while he details the removal of the old wallpaper from the dining room to work tomorrow. He's rambling about using a third coat on the living room paint and you don't think it's necessary but you know he'll agree with you come morning.

"Come eat Ralph Vincent," you scold him for getting paint on the door frame but all is forgiven when he sweeps you into a hungry kiss.

"I'd rather eat you right now."

Ralph's flirtations are interrupted by his own ractious growling stomach and you laugh at him as you shove a plate into his hand. You eat together by the window in the living room. While it hasn't been painted yet, you have moved the furniture to the middle of the room and the fumes from the kitchen and dining room are still very strong. You hope it doesn't affect your sleep tonight (or hope it puts you down like a dose of melatonin).

"Floyd's got a boat," Ralph tells you. "Says he takes it out on the water almost every day. Asked if I wanted to join him."

"And are you?" You spin another forkful of angel hair spaghetti on your plate.

Ralph slurps his like a child. "Am I what."

"Are you going to join him on his boat?" You speak slowly and patronizingly. Ralph pinches your breast and almost makes you drop your plate. "No. I hate boats. I hate water. I don't want to be trapped for hours out there listening to him talk about paintings and philosophers, at least at work I can walk away."

You chuckle. "I think Floyd sounds very interesting. What do you have against him?"

"Nothing," he protests, "he talks too much. He's loquacious– that's what Justine calls him, and she's one to talk. If you must know, he's actually my favorite– he knows when to keep his nose out of my business."

Dishes are made slightly more difficult with Ralph hanging off your shoulders. He peppers kisses up and down your neck, even finds a hickey from the morning that's started to fade and he remarks you. You dig your dripping fingers into his hair when he finds that spot on your neck and gives it some much needed attention.

"Ralphie, baby, please," you whisper, "I could use your help with these."

Dishes are done in record time and suddenly you're being whisked away to your bedroom (not that you were complaining). This room has the wallpaper that you had no intention to change aside from a fresh upgrade. Ralph takes your hand to spin you around and back you into your shared room all the way to the edge of the bed. Along the way he plants kisses from your hairline to your collarbone before he lets you fall atop the thick quilted bedspread.

He gazes at you with a warm expression. The soft "my girl" he whisperes makes your heart swell.

You expect him to pick up your legs and pull you by your knees to the outside of his hips (want him to even), but Ralph has other ideas it seems. It's not until his head is between your legs that you realize what he's up to (or rather down to). You gasp a lung full of air and grab him by the hair of his head.

"Jesus," you sigh.

Your husband's rumbling laughter causes your thighs to twitch. "Say my name, I'm the one doing all the work."

"Yeah but you love– aha!" His beard brushes your inner thighs and leaves a delightful burning sensation in the deepest part of your soul. "Fuck…"

You pull his hair harder and feel the soft locks stretch in your bloodless grasp. You can feel that immortal coil wind tighter and tighter inside you as Ralph devours you. You start chanting his name, the pitch of your voice beginning to crescendo the closer you get to that fire cracker ending. Ralph doubles his efforts, eager to have you fall apart on his tongue and fingers.

He's more than making it up to you tonight.

When you come, your body curls in on itself and your thighs lock around his head, effectively deafening him. You have no idea if he can hear the scream that rips from your body but you can't either as your eyes rolls back in ecstasy.

You relax onto the bed and feel it dip with an additional weight to your side. You slide into Ralph's easy embrace, his dry hand coming up to hold you to him and just rest for a bit.

"Fuck," you say huskily, "you're really good at that…"

Ralph kisses you in answer, trying to deepen the connection but you have to twist away to catch your breath. Instead he plants lingering, sweet kisses on your neck, your cheek, your hair. His hand caresses your back in circles until you're nearly asleep from the motion.

You flinch when you feel his nose brush against yours. "Baby… don't fall asleep." He sounds so sweet until his voice darkens and he says, "I'm not done with you yet."

You lose track of time and all you can feel is Ralph Lamont. You're both covered in a sheen of sweat and his hips rock leisurely into yours. You don't know who grabbed who but your hands are tangled together and refuse to let go. Ralph's breath dusts over your neck, cool in contrast to the fire of his physical form pressed against you. You want to come again but you let him draw it out, let him love you tonight.

"Ralph." You whisper in his ear, begging with no pressure to change pace. You're happy if he's happy and he is very content to keep thrusting into you to his peak and slow down, never stopping but always making you want more. Your man kisses you flush on the mouth and adjusts his position. His thrusts change. They grow from hypotonic and shallow to a little hard and more purposeful. You moan at the feeling, your legs locking around his hips to draw him deeper despite your exhaustion.

Your orgasm washes over you nice and gentle, nothing like the force of the first time. You're conscious enough to lock your ankles around Ralph's hips, but it still doesn't prevent him from slipping his flushed and reddened cock out and finishing on your stomach as he always intended. You feel a strange tickle of disappointment as you come down from your high but push it to the back of your mind for later.

Some way, somehow, Ralph still has enough strength to clean you both up and tuck you into bed. He curls around your body despite the near unbearable heat and falls fast asleep, his soft snores right behind your ear lulling you under the tide of sleep.

DAY FOUR

"Morning."

Your Saturday is awash of more painting and moving furniture with Ralph. He made coffee and eggs and brought it to you in bed, then dragged you down to look at the frayed wires on the clothes dryer machine.

"Might be rodents," you muse. "I'll get some traps on Monday and find my soldering iron."

"We'll get traps tonight," your husband countered, scratching his chin, "the sooner the better."

You finish removing the old wallpaper in the living room and carefully put up the new one with little fuss. The kitchen still smells of paint but it's dry (it had better be, you left the windows open all night and it's freezing in here) so you put the kitchen utensils and appliances back and remove the protective tape and brown paper. Ralph is proud of the precision work done in the corners and edges, patting himself on the back and yours.

"We did good babe," he said, "by this time next week, we'll have the whole house done!"

You laugh at his optimism. There were still cobwebs to dust, cracks to spackle, floors to polish, windows to replace. This was the very reason he picked this place…

To keep you busy. To keep your mind from wandering to those dark places that linger in your past.

At least it was working.

Tagging people who might like to know: @werwulfy @hoodoo12 @escape-your-grape @go-commander-kim @fundamentally-lazy @mimiscappinisideblog do y'all wanna be here? If not lemme know please 😅 DM me

#three bees writing #ralph lamont #ralph lamont x reader #smut #things seen and heard au #vaguely ghost house au #black reader insert

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