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#and there is so much potential to be fine one moment and not the next
syncope-syndrome · 8 months
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Prompts For When You Need A Whumpee To Fall Like A Sack Of Bricks
For when a slow and steady loss of consciousness doesn't quite cut it (but that's still good, don't get me wrong).
whumpee's still running on adrenaline when they bump into caretaker, nothing but smiles until they catch onto caretaker's horrified expression. they follow their gaze until they see the familiar stain of blood against their shirt. their shock drains the adrenaline from them, and before caretaker's even able to take a step forward their knees have buckled.
a sudden wound — a gunshot, a stabbing — and the pain lancing through them white-hot and agonizing. they're still processing what's happened to them, gaping like a fish out of water when they feel the ground slam into the side of their head. they're not sure when they fell, but every pulse pours out more red and reminds them over and over of why.
a caretaker running themselves ragged with just how many people are hurt or in need of them, unable to take a moment's rest for themselves. their vision starts to swim when they stand up but they ignore it, because it's not that bad yet and others have it worse. they're doing an excellent job pushing through, until they're suddenly not. their vision wavers a little stronger this time, and then into black, barely able to get out a surprised "oh" before they're on the ground.
bending down to grab something and not hearing the approach of someone from behind them. one moment, they're sifting through papers, a drawer, a cabinet — the next, there's a burst of horrible pain at the back of their skull and a deep, sudden darkness.
trying to climb out of bed after a broken fever — common sense tells them to stay in bed but they want a bath so badly. their body trembles the moment they move to stand, and they're barely upright for more than a few seconds before their weakened legs fold and they collapse in a pile of exhausted, aching limbs.
doing nothing, thinking of nothing until there's a bright surge of light and heat, white bleeding into black, so abrupt that it's not until they wake again that they even comprehend that anything happened to them.
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Asia Kate Dillon as Lucifer again in Opus For All, Opus 4, Our Better Angels
#call this Confusing Compromise for all...focusing on shots of akd & adding text. these are sequential but not continuous moments lol#i.e. hope it's disjointed enough / it is clear there's other shots & more dialogue b/w these#might be possible to fit this whole video into one gifset lol. make them smaller; longer; combine some side by side into one...#just wanna give a lil taste of that dialogue / enhance visuals with Some context. evocative enough i hope#asia kate dillon#lucifer our better angels#could've put a caption like [resolving heavenly chord] lol if i knew what chord it is exactly...not nearly knowledgable enough to guess#the [ending on that chord and cutting away just as lucifer looks like they're about to cry]....chefs? kiss#there's just so much to dig into here and then start speculating about in your own continued story for it lol so fun truly#like i said: boy i love when the devil is a dynamic character atheistic satanism style i.e. exploring the / A human experience through them#and like i said b/w the mysteries lucifer and this lucifer we can have it all / cover so much ground w/akd lucifers....#the other night i think i had a dream that it was just a fun fact they'd also been lucifer some third time lmao...i wish#speaking of wishing one of these gifs is 9.9 mb and i'm just making it tumblr's problem. so i hope it actually works#sooo embarrassing if it's frozen on the first frame and i gotta fix it lol. don't look at me...but tell me fr if i don't notice#potentially tricky b/c it's like ''is it just my slowass connection On My End or is the gif broken'' like added layer of mystery#when sometimes even if you have a fine connection you gotta ask the audience like how's it look on your end...#jlsdf JUST noticed they're sitting by that tag ft. 666#the new satanic symbol? backwards Cool S. more on that in the next post#yeah someone might get stuck trying to decipher this as though it's walking us continuously through a scene lol but alas. c'est la vie
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primofate · 3 months
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3 am brainrot
Soulmate, but Genshin Impact Style
Warning: angst (lots of potential to be fluff and comfort ending tho)
Vision "resonates" with each other and a thin red line connects your vision to their vision
Thin red line disappears, frays, or splits off when something is wrong with the connection or the other person
You can use their element and they can use yours. If you are the same element it provides an elemental increase.
Element exchange also stops or weakens when there's something wrong with the connection or the other person
There's a kind of "sixth sense" activated wherein you can kind of feel each other's psyche
Imagining what it would be like for power hungry Scaramouche to find out he has access to another element. Meets a complete stranger and suddenly he's stronger. Starts to keep you close only for that reason, doesn't care much about your well being in general. Then finding out that he can STILL use your element even if the two of you are far apart. You part ways rather abruptly, and he's not sure how long it had been when the red line starts to fray and his access to your element starts to dwindle. He doesn't think much of it, but day by day it gets weaker and day by day the red line disappears a little more. A sudden sense of "If that line disappears I won't ever be able to follow it back to y/n" so he starts following it. He doesn't really notice there's a sense of urgency in him, he tells himself its only because he wants the power back, but when he rouses from a short rest to find that the red line is gone... why does it suddenly feel like he's all alone again?
Imagining characters like Xiao, Cyno and Alhaitham who completely rejects using your element. They don't need yours. They are just fine and all is well using only their own. In a sense they take pride in what they have, and doesn't really care for what power you can give. They aren't interested in maintaining a relationship with a stranger either, because, what for? However, you're slightly persistent in at least getting to know a little about them. Just a tiny bit. But that tiny bit is enough to push them to tell you he's not interested in any kind of chit chat, that he's busy and needs to focus on other things. So you turn away. Out of curiosity one day he tries to use your element. It strangely gives him the feeling of warmth. Like someone's protecting and watching over them (and for someone who always does the protecting, this is a big deal). One day, the line breaks off, there's a clear split and he wonders if all is well. He follows the line back to you, and finds out that you've been spending a good amount of time with someone else. Someone who you smile at very brightly, and someone who is interested in getting to know you. What's he to do? This was his doing. So why does he feel like coming over and snatching you away?
Imagining characters like Diluc, Neuvillette and Wriothesley, astounded but somewhat pleasantly surprised by the discovery. He neither rejects you nor accepts you, but feels a sense of responsibility over you just because of the connection made. But because they have their own things to be busy with, they don't exactly actively seek you out or have the time to check in frequently. Perhaps it's a monthly thing, following the line and looking for you. There's a relationship that looks like the beginnings of friendship. A little awkward, asking questions and fumbling for more questions to ask. Still, something builds, and just when the ice is about to break between the two of you, he follows the line...and somehow ends up out in the wild. Your vision is buried next to a tree, for a moment he's struck with panic that he would find your body buried, but judging from how the red line was still intact, you were most likely safe somewhere... however, he would never see you anymore, nor know the reason why you decided to hide. All of a sudden he wished that he had more time. He doesn't know whether this situation was comforting or concerning. He has you in the palm of his hand, but never close enough to fill the empty gap.
Imagining characters like Zhongli, Dainsleif and Tartaglia, who, despite their appearances is instantly intrigued by the connection. They don't need the additional power, but they keep the connection anyway because they partly feel that destiny is something you can't change. The closeness between you two easily grows and here is when you first approach him with a favor.
"Can you help me with something?"
"Of course. Would tomorrow be a good time?"
There's a bit of a pause on your side. "Tomorrow..." and its as if you look up at him with more sparkle in your eyes than usual. "...Yeah. That'll work. Thank you," the way you say thank you is so sincere and loving it almost brings him to a joy he hadn't felt in a long time.
He woke the next day. The connecting red line was nowhere to be found.
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cats-obsessions · 5 months
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If Durge Could Recruit Gortash Headcanons:
Once agreeing to ally with Gortash, Durge can convince him to join the party, but only if they agree to kill Raphael. If Karlach is in the party, this may be done in exchange for Gortash to fix her heart if Durge can pass the persuasion roll on Karlach.
• Upon joining the party, Gortash shows up in a more practical armor set, still gold and black but not as decorated as his robe. There’s scrapes and dents on parts of it, clearly having been worn before. Durge can ask him about it in conversation and discover he has chosen to wear the same armor as he did when they robbed Mephistopheles Vault. He never repaired it and can tell a story for each scratch.
• He does a lot to try to jog Durge’s memories, and it works a some degree. We hear little stories around the city, some more suggestive than others.
• Old habits never die. He’s constantly touching Durge, always walks next to them, has a lot of strong opinions but will only concede to Durge.
• Durge persuasion rolls on Gortash are DC10 and under. Anyone else it’s DC30.
• He absolutely compliments Durge a little too much. And he’s always the first at Durge’s side after the fighting ends. Grumbles if he has to rez anyone else but dotes on Durge.
• Gets along well enough with Astarion, Shadowheart, and Laezel. Respects Minthara and Gale, sees them both as potential allies if they know their places. Absolute bitch to Wyll. Actively the number one Ravengard hater.
• If Durge can convince Karlach to stick around, she will only be in the same party as Gortash once or twice. She’ll confront Durge about it after and either has to be kept separate or leaves the party.
• If taken to Astarion and Shadowhearts’ personal quests, he’ll be surprisingly respectful, and will tell them they’d make good Banites, particularly if Shadowheart resists Shar. (Kinda think he would tell Astarion not to Ascend but for his own advantage of not having to deal with an Ascended Vampire and not wanting the hells to gain power from 7,000 souls)
• Random gifts pop up in Durge’s inventory. He says nothing about them. One is definitely the hand of an enemy.
• When in the House of Hope, Gortash will only allow Durge to enter the prison with him until the warden is dead. He’ll tell them everything, but won’t let the others see it.
• Killing Raphael is very emotional. He’s proud, happy, relieved, but being there shakes him up. Durge can hug him in private when they talk about it.
• If Durge chooses to save Hope, she tries to hug ‘little Enver, all grown up’ before they leave. He does not like it, but part of him is happy to see her free.
• Durgetash romance can initiate after Raphael is dead. Sceleritas is so fuckin' pissed. Like, he kinda ships it, but he CANNOT handle Durge getting labotomized again for this Banite fool.
• He has random little personal quests and pop-up events like his formal coronation celebration ball, taking Durge to a fancy dinner, dealing with fans, and assassinating a rude journalist who called him not-so-young-and-handsome.
• If taken to Lady Jannath's estate, she flirts with him. Durge has an option to stab her for this- just once. Just a little. She'll be fine! Gortash approves. He apologizes to her, but he's absolutely into it.
• His two allied pathways at the end are to remain fully evil and control the brain/Faerun with Durge or absolutely still be, ya know, Gortash but destroy the brain and become archduke without the tadpoles' help as he’s now viewed as the city’s hero. This is his least evil option and requires a Durge romance or at least a Durge that will remain by his side regardless and saving Hope as pivotal moments.
• Durge's alliance or resistance of Bhaal would significantly influence this. Resisting Bhaal lowers the DC on any persuasion. Failing the duel with Orin would block any option except controlling the brain with Gortash as he sees it as the only way to protect Durge. Because controlling the absolute would offer them a large enough following to grant them literal ascension to godhood, freeing Durge from Bhaal's control. Plus, you know killing a god would only inflate Gortash's ego more, and that would be his new goal.
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chaethewriter · 1 year
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You're dead to me [3]
dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader
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In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?
warning: english isn't my first language, barely proofread, a lot of awkward tension cause Neytiri and humans + reader being in conflict, terrible na'vi sentence.
Word count: 3,8k
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A superior of you recommended you to Norm, a human scientist in an avatar body that went against the RDA a decade ago. He lives close to the war, which means close to the Omatikaya. This means you were going to face your father, the man you really didn't want to see. It wasn't that big of a shock to you when you were told that you were going to the front lines. You were always preached about for being one of the best warriors, you saw it coming. Both Raja and Seb were also ranked as one of the best warriors among your group, so it was fortunate you could at least be close to your friends if you were to break down. Yet you weren't planning to do that. Deep inside you yearned for him, wanting to jump into his arms the moment you see him and call him daddy again, but another side of you told you to keep quiet about it. Let him figure it out on his own. Act like you don't care and show him what you became. Was it the mature way? No, definitely not. But you threw your childhood away to become a warrior, being childish every now and then shouldn't hurt too much. And I mean, they had your files. The information of you potentially being Jake Sully's kid was out in the open for the higher-ranked to see, so whether he was interested enough in getting to know his soon-to-be acquaintances or not, the choice of figuring out you are his babygirl is really up to Jake Sully himself. It's not like he would notice it by looking at your face, your mask wasn't see-through and covered half of your face. Besides that, you look different than what you looked like over a decade ago. So here you were, in this helicopter with Raja and Seb on your way to the Omatikaya clan, adrenaline rushing through your veins as Raja kept her grip on your forearm.
Jake Sully held his wife in his arms as he begged her to accept the help that is supposed to get to home tree soon. Norm already told him weeks ago that the resistance was coming soon. He didn't know what he meant, unaware of the things that were happening on earth. He was explained how earth was in an uproar, divided into three groups: with the RDA, against the RDA, or being neutral. Information was leaked about the RDA's doings, how they were sending humans to Pandora to kill the natives. History repeats itself. From killing their own kind centuries ago to killing a different species on a different planet. Norm told him how he was in contact with a huge resistance party on planet earth, one that was open for it to directly take action, how they wanted to send their trained warriors to Pandora to end the wrongdoings of mankind and keep the RDA away or any human that was a potential enemy to Pandora and its nature. Young warriors that just finished their training, choosing to fight for someone else's freedom rather than living a safe life on earth. Safe as in not getting attacked then, because planet earth is definitely dying. Jake could appreciate this selfless decision, whether some may be in it for the paycheck or just an act of kindness, all of them were there to help. He was hoping Neytiri could see it like this too, they were here to help fight against their own kind. Jake's pleading eyes couldn't make Neytiri decline, so with a loud hiss she agreed, "fine, but I'm coming with you. If they make one wrong move I'm going to pierce an arrow through their skulls, ma Jake." Her tone sounded annoyed, but she couldn't help but lean into his touch.
Even though Neytiri agreed to accept help from the sky demons, she was against the idea to bring those demons directly to high camp. It was that feeling all over again, when Jake betrayed her and the RDA came to destroy their past home, home tree. She was scared for her people, for her children. Jake could understand where she was coming from and agreed with Norm through his throat microphone to meet at the lab instead. His children were listening from afar and Tuk jumped out of their hiding spot, much to Neteyam's, Loak's and Kiri's dismay. "Are we going on an adventure?", giggles left her lips as she jumped towards her mother, her arms wrapping around her waist. Her chin was pressed against her mom's hip as she looked up at her with sparkles in her eyes. Kiri smacked herself against the forehead as their little sibling ran towards her parents. The three got out of their hiding spot, Neteyam walking in front as he was ready to confront his father, "sir I-" he started, but was immediately cut off as Jake spoke over his voice, "Neteyam I need you to come with your mom and me. We are retrieving guests, sky people. This will be part of your Olo'eyktan training." Jake's tone was fierce as he spoke to his son, treating his own blood as nothing but a warrior. Neteyam pursed his lips as he nodded his hand in response, "yes sir." was all he had left to say. Loak groaned as he felt left out of the situation. He wanted to go on an adventure too, and spend time with his father. "What about me? Why can't I come?" He didn't hide the disappointment in his tone as he asked his questions, mainly directing them to his father. "I need you to stay here and take care of Kiri and Tuk." Kiri then decided to chime in on the conversation, planning to get more information on the current situation, "what is this all about dad? They're going to help us, but what are they exactly?" Jake sighed in response as he brought his hand to his forehead. It was no use hiding anything, they would get to know the truth eventually. So he just decided to tell them everything he knew from Norm.
Everything comes to light after all.
Jake Sully prepared himself for their departure. Hunter's knife strapped to his hip and his throat microphone attached as always, in case Loak gets into trouble yet again. "Ma Jake? Are you ready soon? My mother would like to see you as well before we do." Neytiri called from outside their family pod. "Almost almost, I'll get to her tent soon." Jake was frantically looking around the pod as he spoke. He was looking for his good luck charm. Childish one may call it, but it made him feel at ease during these stressful times. There it lay, the thing he was looking for, under one of the woven carpets. He picked the round charm up, holding it between his thumb and index finger as he tried to open the lock. His heart pounded into his throat as he did so, struggling to open it because of his much bigger hands. He was delusional, scared to lose it. He breathed out when he came face to face with your cute baby face, all smiling and giggling. "Thank Eywa," he mumbled to himself and tied to chain to the handle of his knife. When Jake Sully opened the flap that separated the inside of the pod from the outside world he came face to face with Neytiri, "Mo'at wants to see me?" She responded with a nod as her head nodded to the healer's tent, "she wanted to speak to you, she told me." He wondered what that could be about. He wasn't injured or suffering from any illnesses, so what could have possibly happened? Jake Sully nodded his head before speaking up, "I still don't think it's a good idea that you come." Neytiri crossed her arms at his words, "Ma Jake, I need to see what kind of people are about to enter my clan." And with that, she walked away. A sigh left his lips since he knew things would not turn out too well. He stepped towards Mo'at's tent. Time to find out why she needed him, as he entered the tent Mo'at was supposed to be at. "Ah, Jake Sully. I was awaiting you." She motioned for him to come in and he followed her order. He awkwardly stood next to her as she busied herself with her herbs, "Eywa has spoken to me. It has to do with you, Jake Sully." His ears twitched in curiosity, motioning for her to continue speaking. "You are about to be in a huge conflict. Hearts will break and tears will stream. You mustn't give up as Eywa has spoken to me this needs to happen for you to continue forward, so don't back down, Jake Sully." This just confused him, what conflict? Does this have to do with the arrival of the resistance? Is this about the RDA? But he doesn't dare ask, because he knows the Tsahik can't get into detail. His gaze is focused on the herbs the Tsahik is mixing up into medicines. Was it to distract herself from this conversation? He didn't know what else to say, but there is one thing he dared to ask, "when will this happen?"
"Way sooner than you will ever expect, Jake Sully."
"Your codename is Buttercup?" Norm looked at Seb in disbelief as the guy in question just shook his head, "I was forced, this is a crime." The three of you were talking about yourselves to Norm as Norm listened carefully. Raja giggled at the embarrassment of her friend, "so there used to be this cartoon I found in one of my great grandma's old boxes. It was called the Powerpuff girls. It is about three sisters that fight against crime and we needed codenames, so I forced (Y/N) and Seb to match with me." This made Norm realize how the three trained warriors in front of him were actually still kids at heart. Of course he knew that they were young, but this just showed how much they missed out on beings kids. You chuckled at the conversation and shrugged, "I mean, my codename is Blossom so it's not too bad, not like being a buff dude and getting called Buttercup. Raja's fits hers, bubbles. It fits her bubbly personality." Seb continued complaining about how it was two against one and that he couldn't escape from his codename being Buttercup. "We are here," Norm commented and you felt the nerves go through your body once again, your grip on your katana so hard your knuckles turned lighter. As the helicopter lowered, you looked outside the window and there you saw three blue figures standing next to one another close to a facility in the middle of the forest. There he was. Your dad. Standing all high and mighty and he was so tall. He looked so different, yet still the same. You noticed certain features that just made him look like your dad. You wished you were a little kid again. If it was little you in your place right now, she wouldn't have given a damn. Would've run up to him and told him who you were as you would have jumped into his arms. But you grew up, full of anger and pain. You pursed your lips as you watched him talk with his mate and son, silently wishing it was you there, by his side as he had a proud look on his face. You had an intense conflict within yourself. Why did you have to be such a tryhard? If you slacked off, you could have been chilling with the other warriors that were spread around the other forest clans. Yet, this was something to be proud of. You did this on your own, you should prove yourself to them, to him. But were you ready for this confrontation? All this inner dialogue made your head hurt. You had to stop fighting the thoughts in your head and focus, because you were getting lost in your thoughts a lot. That wasn't acceptable, not on a battlefield. Once the helicopter landed, Norm was the first to step out of the helicopter, followed by Seb, Raja and you. When the three of you stood in a line you were standing right in front of the Na'vi: Seb in front of Neteyam, Raja in front of Neytiri, and you in front of Jake Sully right in the middle. As if Eywa herself wanted this to happen, wanting the two of you to reconnect. He analyzes you from head to toe, his gaze burning into your skin making you push your mask further into your skin. You wanted to crawl into a cave right there and then.
"Oel Ngati Kameie," the three of you say in unison as you brought your hand towards your forehead, dropping it slowly to the height where your chest is at. The na'vi in front of you do the same na'vi greeting, before Jake Sully switched to English, "I, Jake Sully, Welcome you to Pandora, I can speak for everyone of the Omatikaya clan that we are very thankful for your arrival and your help." His English sounded rusty, but understandable when you haven't been using it for the past decade. Your eyebrows raise at his English, "we understand Na'vi. Pxoeng nolume Na'vi." You spoke to your dad through your mask and you could see the surprise on his face. It made you smile, he looked proud. Fortunately, the mask covered your mouth, otherwise, everyone could have seen your happy expression. Norm chimed into the conversation, "These three are the best warriors of their group. (Y/N), Seb and Raja, all scored fantastically on their physical exams. Six years ago, these warriors left just a few weeks before RDA's departure. We got a few weeks to plan out a raid against their new forces." Everyone nods in unison and you glance at your dad once again, locking eyes with him, since he was already looking at you.
Jake's eyes widen at that name. It was a name he didn't hear in so long. He thought of his babygirl, wondering what you could be doing right now. Did you graduate? Have a boyfriend? Girlfriend? Was he a grandfather? He got so overwhelmed at the thought of you. He missed you so much. His little girl, who is probably not so little now. Regret and guilt fuels his body as he remembers that he was the one to leave you and never return to earth. How he hoped to see your face again. Come and live here with him on Pandora, was that a selfish thought?
Norm took out a form and cleared his throat, making Jake Sully wake up from all his thoughts, "Jake, the warriors first need to do this checkup before they can get to work, resistance orders," he passes him the map with your files and your heart immediately dropped to your stomach. You knew he was about to get your last name eventually, but on the first day? You don't know if you can do that. "This was supposed to be my task, but I trust that you can do this, oh great Olo'eyktan? Max is researching something and he urgently needs my help with it." Great Norm, just great. Eywa, is this your doing? Because you would rather wish she takes you to her right this instant. "You can trust me with this, Norm." Jake flashes him a grin. "Don't lose it and I really mean that," Norm's gaze reaches the three of you once again, he almost looks worried, "I read the checkup, good luck, because as a scientist I could never." And to the lab he went.
"What was that supposed to mean?" Seb raised his eyebrows in concern and his eyes glanced at the map your father was holding. Neytiri has been quiet this entire time as well as Neteyam. Both were weary ever since they met you three, like mother, like son. Everyone could notice the tension, it would have made Jake's arm hair stand if he had any. "Okay, let's see what we have here.. Pretty.. gruesome.." Neteyam was looking over his dad's shoulder, frowning at all of them, "sir, is this normal for humans?" Again, you raise your eyebrows and you couldn't stop the next words you say from coming out of your mouth, "you call your father 'sir'? What is this, an army?" Raja widens her eyes, as well as Seb. Neytiri hisses your way in defense, Jake putting his arm out in front of her as to not make her pounce in you, but you don't flinch. You just looked at your father in disbelief at how he was treating his own son. It was awfully quiet as Jake didn't know what to reply. Your hard gaze on him made him feel something, guilt? Pain? He couldn't describe it, but he felt weird in some way. Luckily, Norm came back in his human body, clear mask on his face, "false alarm, he already got help from the other scientists and everything is go- what the hell happened here?" Norm could feel the tension in his bones as he watched the six of you. You were the first to speak up, "nothing is wrong here. So you will do our checkup right?" You walked towards your father, gripping the file map out of his hands and handing it over to Norm. Everyone's jaws drop to the ground and Neytiri drew her hunter's knife, "you sky demon I knew you couldn't be trusted! Such disrespectful behavior!" Jake takes a hold of his mate. They couldn't fight, not now. Neytiri needed to get out of here before blood was about to be drawn. "Ma Neytiri please, it's fine, could you please check up on Loak?" The tension was unbearable for Jake Sully. His eyes pleaded for himself to handle this. The grip on her knife loosened as she hissed again. Neteyam stepped towards his mother as his hand wrapped around hers, the one she was gripping the knife with, "mother please, please trust father." He himself had doubts about these humans, but it looked like his dad trusted them, so he should at least try right? As future Olo'eyktan. Looking into her son's eyes, she felt herself calm down as she lowered her knife, attaching it to her hip. She put her hand on Neteyam's cheek for a second before pulling her hand away. Once again, she threw a glance at you. "I'm watching you." She sent you a hiss as a warning and crept back into the forest. Great, you have a bad relationship with your dad's mate. Maybe this was for the best after all. Jake sighed, he shouldn't have taken Neytiri with him even after all her demands. With sky people she just met it was bound to go like this.
After that awkward ordeal, Neteyam led everyone to an open field in the forest. With your dad's gaze still lingering on your body, you decided to try and ignore it. Easier said than done. You yearned for your dad, but you couldn't give in. Neteyam and Jake stood to the side as the three of you started stretching in the conveniently open field that was formed into a circle. "The checkup is about strength, focus, and speed. You need to fight one vs one hand-to-hand combat battles against one another without masks on."
"Without masks?! Are they out of their mind?!"
"Do you expect an answer or?"
"No I don't!"
Seb and Raja continued their daily bickering as always, but your mind was completely somewhere else. Jake seemed to notice this, as he walked towards you. He had this urge to comfort you. Could it be, because you had the same name as his daughter on earth? Maybe, but maybe if he took care of you, he could feel at peace again. He sat on his knees and put his hand on your shoulder, making you look his way. "I'm sorry for my mate, she can be very protective of me," he softly spoke to you, "and I don't blame you, you woke up after 6 years and your entire life is upside down. I understand." You pursed your lips at his words. Why was he being so soft to you? You couldn't stand it, not when he spoke like that, reassuring you like that. You didn't reply, you just gave him the shoulder as you stepped away from his grip. This just made him even more confused as his chest hurt, did he do something wrong when he met you? Was he staring at you a little too long? Did his gaze offend you?
"We will do three rounds and in those three rounds, you need to put your enemy down for ten seconds to win."
"Let's dance then, shall we?"
And those words you spoke, felt awfully familiar to Jake Sully.
Neteyam Sully watched in awe as you fought the final round against Seb. Your mask was on the ground as you pounced on the much taller guy. He tried to lock your legs with his to make you lose your balance, which would have given him an advantage, but you punched him in the face with your fist, making his mouth open and gasp for air. In his moment of panic, you used it to knock him face-first into the dirty mossy ground, keeping his head on the floor as you twisted his arm. You sat right on his back as you used your knee on his neck to keep him down, the other weighing on his lower back and arm. You gasped for air as you saw blurry, listening to Norm count to ten was honestly something. It sounded like he counted to a hundred in slow motion. When he yelled the word ten, you quickly got off your friend, crawling towards your mask. Jake wanted to run up to you to help you, but Norm told him to stop and that this was what you were supposed to do in a real battle if it would ever happen that you lose your mask. You quickly took your mask in your hand and put it on your face with a shaky hand, gasping for the oxygen you needed. You coughed loudly as you sat on your knees with your hands on the ground. Jake rushed towards you and put his arm around you, rubbing your back with his free hand, "are you okay?" worry in his tone as he spoke. Your eyes widen at the familiar hug. The warmth of his arms as he used to hold onto you as you snuggled against him in your sleep. But you couldn't. You held onto his hand, letting the touch linger your skin before you pushed it away, "I'm good, yes." You stood up and walked towards Norm, not looking back at him once.
Just what was it with you?
And why did it hurt how you treated him?
A/N: I was lowkey insecure about posting this part 3 fr, idk if I liked it. I kept adding and adding details in the hope I would feel better about it, so here's a longer part than usual. Hope you enjoyed it. Pls tell me what you think. <3
taglist:
@hoodiepandaninja16 @l0v3e1i @neteyamforlife @noname2246 @littlelia007 @j0551 @navs-bhat @fyfy-world @hellok1ttycake @lwozy @n1ght5h4d3-24 @kahlowy @iloveavatar @farleyis @reguluscrystals @inomoikawa @bobojojoba69 @eternallyvenus @imakms @alice121804 @aimsro @carollise @jjkclub @onlytays @yeosxxx @dakotali @degenweeb @sunshinewwx @sassy-persona @ggeveryone99 @calums-betch @voniikg @jakesullys-bitch @answer-the-sirens @ilovebluesliens @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @crazy4books1 @kitkat1690 @iikatsukii @666yourmomdotcom @ssc7514 @nhloversblog @eatassskatefast12 @mizuki80 @makeup-stuff-and-such @ayanies @n3t3y4msm4t3 @tigresslily @innersuitcasehairdoscissors @mangolog
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moonstruckme · 7 months
Note
Hi! I absolutely love your page and all of your poly!marauders writing! Could I request a poly!marauders where they’re all flirting with r (like pre relationship) and because she’s never really been noticed/flirted with before she thinks they’re kind of making fun of her like it’s a big joke. Then of course she finds out that’s not the case
Thanks for requesting babe, and thanks for reading! I had no idea how long this had become until I checked the wordcount just now haha, and I feel like it got a bit awkward in some places but I hope you enjoy it :)
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.8k
As Friday nights go, this one is pretty typical. You’d arrived at the party with all of your friends, and one by one, they’d been pulled away by significant others, flirty strangers, or potential hookups. Now it’s just you, sitting on the couch and trying not to look awkward as the couple on the opposite end endeavors to swallow each other whole. 
“Hey there, gorgeous,” a familiar voice drawls, and Sirius Black sits down next to you. “Having a good time?”
You force a smile, not wanting to insult the party most likely being thrown by Gryffindor’s golden boys. “Yup.” 
“Doesn’t look like it,” he says, not unsympathetically, then nudges the curled-up form behind him. “Moony, you were really going to let this pretty thing sit here all by herself without speaking to her?”
The book they’re holding lowers, revealing Remus Lupin. His eyes start to roll as if it’s an automatic response to Sirius’ interruption, but then they fall on you. “Oh.” He blinks. “Sorry, love, I didn’t see you there.” 
You flush, sheepish and a bit resentful of being party to Sirius’ reprimand, however teasing it might be. You know Remus from the couple of classes you’ve had together, but you wouldn’t expect him to talk to you outside of those contexts. Speaking to someone that’s obligated is so much worse than speaking to no one at all. “It’s fine,” you say quietly, feeling unbearably awkward. 
“See? She’s too sweet to even hold you accountable for it,” Sirius tuts, shaking his head. “I’m sorry about him, dollface. Can I get you a drink?”
“I, um...” You look down at your empty cup, long since drained. “Sure, thanks.” 
He winks. “Be right back.” 
You expect Remus to go back to his book as Sirius struts off, but he folds the corner of his page, setting it down. 
“I really didn’t mean to ignore you,” he says, looking painfully apologetic. “How are your classes this year?”
You give him your most reassuring smile. “They’re good, thanks. And I didn’t think you were ignoring me.” You cringe. “Sorry Sirius made you put away your book on my account.” 
He looks at you with amber eyes full of kindness. “I don’t mind.” 
It’s a conscious effort to quell the ruckus in your stomach. You’d harbored a tiny, secret crush on Remus when you’d had classes together last year, and this is exactly why. He just seemed like such a sweetheart. Soft-spoken but brilliant, he never raised his hand to answer questions but always scored high on assignments, and you’d once caught him feeding answers to the girl next to him so she could win points for her house. You’d become enthralled with the way his smile would tug gently at the scars on his face, making them glint silver in the light that shone through the classroom windows, and how his eyes sparked with quiet amusement even when he wasn’t laughing.
The silence between you is stretching too long. You fumble for something to continue the conversation. “I like your sweater,” you say dumbly. 
“Yeah?” He smiles, scars flashing. “Thanks, lovely.” He lets his gaze roam over you for a moment, and you try not to squirm. “Do you want it? It’s a bit cold in here.” 
You look down, surprised to discover goose bumps covering your arms. “That’s alright,” you say, but Remus is already shrugging off his sweater, revealing the plain t-shirt underneath. “Remus, really, I’m fine.” 
“Don’t worry about it,” he insists, holding the sweater out to you and raising his eyebrows when you won’t take it. “If you don’t put it on, then neither of us will have it.” 
You watch him for a moment, but Remus doesn’t waver. You take it, giving him a look that you hope conveys both admonishment and apology. “Thank you.” 
“No problem,” he replies as you shrug it on. “Considering that this is a school of magic, it does a pretty poor job of regulating its temperature during the winter, don’t you think? Couldn’t let you just sit here and freeze, sweetheart. Sirius would kill me when he got back.” 
You pull Remus’ sleeves over your cold fingers, using the movement to avoid eye contact as your face heats. The way he’s talking to you, the pet names, it’s all so strange. You don’t get it. 
“Not to be rude,” Remus says before you can go deeper into your musings, “but I thought I saw you come in with a bunch of other girls. Where’d they all go?”
Ah. He’s talking to you because he likes one of your friends. “Oh.” You wave your hand about vaguely. “Here and there, pulled aside by various prospects. I’m sure you can find some of them if you go looking.” 
“But they left you by yourself?” He seems to disregard your friends’ whereabouts, his eyebrows coming together just a bit. “That’s not very nice. Lucky for us, though, I suppose.” 
You tilt your head, not quite sure what he means, but then Sirius returns, James Potter in tow. 
“Told you,” Sirius says as he passes you your drink, hand lingering on yours a second too long. James gives one to Remus. “She’s miserable.” 
“Can’t have that,” James replies agreeably, looking for somewhere to sit. His eyes fall on the couple behind you and he leans close to your ear. “Merlin, they’re really going at it, aren’t they?”
You laugh, and he grins at you like that was his aim all along. Meanwhile, Sirius has devised a solution to the problem of seating, making himself comfortable almost entirely in Remus’ lap. He gestures for you to come closer. You comply tentatively, scooting a couple feet towards the two of them. 
“Don’t be shy.” Sirius reaches out and grips your waist, hauling you closer until you’re pressed up against Remus’ leg and Sirius’ side, his arm remaining snugly around your waist. “We don’t bite. Unless you’re into that, of course.” 
“Pads.” Remus’ voice is stern, softened for your benefit. “Take it easy.” 
“Oh, come on,” Sirius scoffs. “I saw you putting the moves on her from over by the punch. You don’t get to have all the fun.” 
Putting the moves on you? Sirius almost makes it sound like Remus had been…flirting. Oh. You suppose maybe he had. But intentionally? Really? Sirius Black will flirt with anything, but Remus is a different story.
It must be a part of some bit they’re all doing, you realize. They are pranksters. Sirius was probably bored and in need of entertainment, and there you were, sitting all by yourself. Practically begging to be the object of his amusement. And then he’d enlisted Remus to go along with it. They’re probably all going to go back to their dorm tonight and laugh about how easily you’d fallen for it. Your face burns.
James has settled into the ample space you’ve made on the couch, allowing you a bit more room that Sirius seems willing to. “You alright, lovely? I’m sorry you haven’t been having a very good time.”
You look at him, finding nothing but sincerity in his warm brown eyes. You don’t suppose he would have been able to get away with so much if he weren’t a good actor. The last thing you’re going to do is give them more to laugh about by making a scene. “No, I’m fine. It’s a good party.” 
“Yeah?” James cocks his head like a puppy. “Well, that’s good, I guess. How’d you end up by yourself though, sweetheart?”
Remus answers for you. “Her friends left her.” 
“They’ll come back eventually,” you say hastily, then realize how pathetic that sounds. It’s all you can do not to shrink in on yourself. 
“I’m sure they are,” James says, and try as you might, you can detect no sarcasm in his tone, “but it’s still not a very considerate thing for friends to do. You seem like excellent company.” 
You scoff, taking a long sip of your drink. “Apparently not.” 
“You are,” Sirius says casually, looking at you over the rim of his cup. “I mean, I’ve only been around you for a little while, but it’s been a delightful experience for me. And Moony seems to like talking to you. That’s high praise.” 
Remus elbows Sirius but gives you one of his soft, kind looks, and it’s too much. It’s all too much. You feel like you’re being eaten alive by shame at how much you’re enjoying their attention, even if it’s all for show. 
“I have an idea,” James says, knee bumping into yours amicably. “We were going to go to Hogsmeade tomorrow to study. Would you come with? We could grab lunch together and convince you of how pleasant you are to have around.” 
You scoff. This charade has gone too far. “Yeah, right. What time should I meet you, at nine in the great hall, where everyone will be watching?” 
Who gets off on this anyway? Flirting is one thing, but all this faux kindness, just to humiliate you? It’s a cruelness beyond what you thought them capable of. 
James hesitates at your tone. “Um, yeah. Nine is good, if that works for you.”
You shake your head, crossing your arms. Sirius gets the message, removing his hand from around your waist. “This isn’t funny.” 
“It’s not supposed to be.” James looks wounded, and Remus leans forward, a concerned set to his brows. “Hey, what’s going through your head?” he asks, all concerned tenderness. 
You look between them, angry and, if you’re being honest with yourself, very hurt. “This is a prank, right? Because I was sitting alone and you were bored? Well, I don’t think it’s funny.” 
“Darling,” Remus breathes, reaching out as if to touch you but hesitating with his hand hovering just above your shoulder, “no one’s pranking you.”
Sirius shakes his head. “That’s not…we would never do something like that, and I’m sorry you think we would. Let me be clear: we want to go on a date with you tomorrow. Obviously you don’t have to, but we’d love it if you came.” 
You feel your eyebrows scrunch up, trying to right your worldview. You feel like you have whiplash. “Wait, are you serious?”
He grins, and it’s half sheepish, half wolfish. “That’s me.” 
You giggle a bit at that, and Remus works up the courage to let his hand land on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “No jokes or catches, lovely girl. I promise.” 
You send him a small smile before turning to James, who still looks like he’s had the wind knocked out of him. “I’m really sorry I accused you guys of that,” you say, guilt replacing shame at the feast of your insides. “I just…I’ve never had someone…notice me in that way before. I thought it was a joke.” 
James’ smile still bears some leftover unease, but there’s no reproach in it. “That’s alright, angel,” he says, earnest as he had been all along. “I’m sorry you thought we didn’t mean it. Let us prove it, yeah? Tomorrow?”
You beam at him, a frisson of excitement going through you. “Yeah, tomorrow.”
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daycourtofficial · 3 months
Text
I’m Still Stuck in the Moment
Summary: a mistake on a mission causes you to lose your memories from the last five years, including the new mating bond between you and Azriel. Can he help you get your memories back, or will you never remember the past five years?
Pairing: Azriel x reader
Author’s note: this has been a wip since October I really hope you guys like it. It’s also my longest fic to date - so please enjoy! 💕
“Stealth missions are so boring,” Cassian states from behind you.
“Maybe that’s why you usually don’t get assigned on stealth missions, dummy,” you reply while looking through the desk drawers.
“I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to be looking for. Sometimes Azriel talks and I just tune him out.” Cassian mimes with his hands a talking motion and rolls his eyes.
“Cassian, why are you even on this mission if you don’t know what we’re looking for and you don’t like stealth missions?” You ask not looking up at him as you search through the papers on the desk.
“Hmm,” he says, pretending to search through the papers as he drops his voice, “it’s been a while since we’ve hung out the two of us.”
You pause and turn to look at him, a big grin overtaking your face.
“You missed me,” you say, delight coating your voice.
“No, I didn’t say that. You’re twisting my words,” he says, pretending to be annoyed, going to search a different part of the room.
You had been a part of the inner circle for about three years when the mating bond snapped into place. All throughout those three years Cassian did everything he could think of to put you and Azriel together. He’d constantly ask you two to dinner and be ‘sick’ and then magically be okay the next day. He’d force you two to sit next to each other during every dinner, solstice, lunch, breakfast, meeting. Any event where you had to sit down, you had to sit next to each other. Anytime you had to be flown somewhere, Cassian would mysteriously have flown away, leaving Azriel to fly you. The cauldron works hard, but Cassian works harder.
No one else could figure out Cassian’s borderline obsession with the two of you. Whenever Rhys or Feyre or anyone would ask him, he’d simply shrug and say “I have a hunch” or, if he was feeling particularly chatty, “I think they’d have stunning children”.
The truth was Cassian loved the both of you so much that he wanted to see you two happy. He also knew there was something between the two of you, he just didn’t know what. He was there the day you and Azriel were introduced, and he felt something. He wasn’t sure if it was possible to feel someone else’s mating bond, but he could feel the potential between you two.
You laugh as you continue rifling through the desk. “You know Cassian if you want to spend time together all you had to do was ask-“
You’re cut off by a cloud of pink dust coming out of a drawer you opened and covering your face. You start coughing and backing away.
“Shit,” Cassian says, coming over to you. He starts looking you over, assessing for damage.
“I’m fine,” you say, in between coughs, “dusty old drawer.”
Cassian looks skeptical. “Yes, because pink dust is so common.”
You roll your eyes. “We’ve searched the room, there’s nothing here. Let’s go home.”
The mission debrief was short - not much to report. The two of you searched an abandoned outpost, seeing if anything of interest was left behind, finding nothing of value or interest.
You enjoyed stealth missions, but you especially loved coming home to your overly protective mate. You two had a tradition - your own personal debrief, where Azriel would inspect every inch of you for any sign of injury. Wherever you were injured, whether it be bruise, scrap, or cut, he would place long kisses on the spot.
“Better than a healer,” he’d say.
The length of the mission would determine how long the two of you stayed locked up in each other. You two usually spent double the length of the mission together uninterrupted.
Once, after a four day long mission, no one had seen either of you for a week. Rhys had to send a telepathic message to find proof of life from either of you.
That night, Azriel checked your wounds, which you’re not even sure you had any. You considered even “accidentally” cutting your finger, but decided against it.
-
You woke up to a dark room, feeling a heavy presence wrapped around you. Whoever it was was massive, incredibly warm, and had quite the grip on you.
You’re not crazy about casual flings, but it’s not too unheard of, especially considering you spent last night drinking with Cassian and Mor at Rita’s. Mor loved playing matchmaker with you, trying to set you up with the most eligible males she could find.
You look around the room, the realization of being naked hitting you. You spot a pile of clothes on the floor and gently lift the arm off of you and slip out from under the male. You grab the clothes, putting the shirt on first. It seems to be the mystery male’s - it’s incredibly long on you, smelling of pine and mist.
“Going somewhere?” the male asks, rising up from the bed to meet you where you stand.
“Yes, I’m uh I’m so sorry but I don’t remember getting here, so I’m just going to head home.” You say, walking backwards towards the door. As the male comes closer, you recognize him.
“Azriel?” You ask.
“Yes, who else would I be?” Azriel replies, a hint of confusion dancing in his eyes, “come back to bed, you’re probably just confused after a dream.”
“Uh, wow, um I-“ you dart your eyes around the room “I’m so sorry but I don’t remember how I got here, let me go back to my room.”
He stops, all signs of playfulness gone. “You don’t have a room. This is your room. This is our room.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Sweetheart, you moved into my room a few years ago. Your room is just another guest room now.”
You blush at the nickname. Despite your best efforts, he had hardly said much to you in the time you’ve known him. Despite the nickname, the weight of his words starts to settle on you.
“Um, no I have a room here. This isn’t a very good joke, Az.” You say, opening the door to go to your room across the hall. Your feet carry you to your room, your hand resting on the knob as Azriel reaches for you, calling for you. You’re not sure why there’s such confusion in his tone. You open the door to what used to be your room, only to find it devoid of any signs you had lived in it.
The room looked like it had the day you moved in, sans the welcome basket Feyre and Rhys had assembled for you and left on the bed. The blue barren walls stare back at you, the four poster bed neatly made.
No hearth in the fire, no books on the nightstand, no flowers on the desk. Even your beloved stuffed wolf that Cassian teased you about was nowhere to be seen.
“Azriel, where is my stuff?”
Azriel stares at you, in utter shock and disbelief. He grabs your hand, leading you through the house. You’re forced to follow him, due to both his tight but gentle grip on you and your curiosity at where all of your things went. The sounds of his footsteps echo through the hall, a level of noise you’ve never heard from him. Usually he glides through these halls, not a trace of noise made to alert anyone of his presence.
“Azriel, what’s wrong?” You keep asking, and he won’t reply until you’re face to face with Rhys’s bedroom door, where Azriel starts banging fiercely on it.
Cassian is the first to poke his head out, his door down the hall from Rhys’s. Once he sees Azriel is the one causing all the commotion, he comes out into the hall, looking around for any unseen threats.
Rhys opens the door, a pair of sweatpants hastily put on as he allows the three of you entry. You assume Rhys had the same reaction to Cassian, annoyance quickly changing to concern at Azriel’s tone.
You assume that Azriel, Rhys, and Feyre are all communicating telepathically because it is dead silent in the room until Feyre comes up and tells you to have a seat in one of their chairs by the fire.
“Okay, now tell me, what happened?” Rhys asked, putting his hands on your shoulders in reassurance.
“Well I um think I’m missing a few pieces but uh last night I went to Rita’s with Cassian and Mor, I got pretty drunk, and I woke up naked in Azriel’s room. I woke up, I tried to leave, only to find out my room is gone.”
Cassian looks at you, concern etching his face, “we went to Rita’s?” He asks, pointing a finger between you and him.
“Yeah,” you say, “you had been out to see Devlen and when you came back you asked if Mor and I wanted to go out with you. No one else was here.” You look to Feyre and Rhys, becoming even more confused. “Why are you guys all back so early?”
“What do you mean “back early”?”
“Well, Azriel had some mission on the continent, and Feyre and Rhys were visiting the summer court with Amren.”
“Mother help us,” Cassian muttered, as he realized his error, dragging a hand across his face. “On our mission yesterday, she breathed in an unknown powder. It had slipped my mind, she seemed so fine, I didn’t think anything of it.”
You could feel the anger vibrating off of Azriel as he turned to Cassian, spitting “What do you mean you didn’t think anything of it? You didn’t think anything of my mate on your mission?”
Azriel’s words don’t register with you as you were too focused on Cassian’s. “But I didn’t go on any missions yesterday. I spent the day at the library, doing research. Cassian found me, asked me to go to Rita’s, and I told him I’d pay for all of his drinks if he went down to the bottom level of the library.”
“Oh, Mother.” Cassian muttered. “Let’s stop for a moment.” Rhys said, crouching in front of you. His violet eyes shone with kindness and concern as he tells you, “Feyre and I went to the summer court with Amren five years ago.”
“That’s not possible” you scoff, “you guys just left three days ago.”
You look towards Azriel, his usual stoicism a thing of comfort in times like this. Instead you’re met with deep despair as he looks back at you, and somehow you can feel that despair deep in your chest.
Rhys moves away from you as Azriel walks towards you and crouches down in front of you, looking at you like you hold his entire life in the palm of your hands, “Sweetheart,” he starts, “what am I to you?”
Your cheeks flare with heat. You start stammering, his gaze overwhelming. He wants some specific answer, this you know. His gaze is piercing and you can’t look away.
“When we were in the summer court,” Feyre starts musing, “that was… before, right?”
“Before what?” You ask, while Azriel nods his head, confirming Feyre’s question.
The room has grown silent again, before Azriel takes your hands and says “before we became mates.”
Your cheeks are on fire now, wishing you could be having this conversation in private, instead of in front of your family.
“Wait, is that why you came back early? You realized we were mates when you were on the continent?” You whisper the last part as of it’s a secret.
As if Azriel’s face couldn’t show you anymore devastation, he replies, “Sweetheart, we’ve been mated for two years.”
You couldn’t have heard him correctly. “I’m sorry,” you say, “have you been keeping it from me for two years? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Rhys steps in, sparing Azriel the pain of further explaining this to you, “you two have been mates for two years. The war with Hybern is over.”
You look into everyone’s eyes, trying to find a trace of humor, “this isn’t a funny joke, it’s quite cruel.”
“No one is joking,” Cassian says. You stand up, beginning to pace the room.
“No no no, you have to be, because either Mor thought this would be a funny joke because of my crush on Azriel or I’ve forgotten the last five years of my life, including getting a mate and surviving the war.”
You look around the room, everyone looking at either you or Azriel, not a trace of humor in the room.
“This has to be a joke because how cruel would it be for Azriel to find a mate just for them to forget everything about him. Five years! Five years of my life are gone! Up to this point in time, Azriel has said maybe five words to me!”
You are hyperventilating by this point, pacing the room, shaking.
“Rhys,” Azriel says, “please.”
Rhys envelops you in a hug, and everything goes dark for you as you slump into his arms. He picks you up, gently laying you on their couch, draping a blanket over you.
Everyone in the room is just staring at you, praying for you to just jump up and tell them this was all a joke. Azriel just sits on the floor next to you, holding your hand, tears streaming down his face.
“I-“ he starts saying quietly, “I-uh I always wondered how the Cauldron would make me suffer for making her my mate. I always knew it would take her away from me in the end, but not like this. I never could have dreamt of this outcome. I never.. never could have imagined how painful it’d be to see her forget me.”
No one is dry-eyed. Everyone is devastated for you, but especially for Azriel. Cassian, Feyre, and Rhys leave the bedroom, allowing Azriel to stay with you while Rhys keeps you under. They all head to Rhys’ study.
“There is some good news in this.”
Cassian and Feyre snap their heads to look at him, urging him to continue.
“When I was in her mind to sedate her, I could tell she still had memories of the past five years. Some of them were memories so ingrained to her that she has no idea what they are. Another thing is that I could tell the memories were there, they’re just… locked up.”
“Locked up? Like a prisoner?” Feyre asks.
“Yes,” Rhys replies, “like a prisoner.”
“So this powder is keeping her memories hostage?”
He sighs, looking towards the door, thinking about his brother’s face. “It would appear that way.”
Madja was called to look over you in your unconscious state, and after she found nothing wrong, they decided to wake you back up.
While you were unconscious, they decided that Mor and Cassian would watch over you unless you ask otherwise. Rhys wakes you up gently, asking if you need anything. After you decline, he leaves you alone with Mor and Cassian.
“So, um..” you start, not sure where to begin. “Five years?”
Mor nods.
“The war is over?”
Cassian smiles solemnly and nods.
“And Az and I?”
Cassian’s grin widens as he looks at you, thinking about the love you share with his brother. You play with your thumbs, unsure what to ask.
“What do you guys, uh, think of us? Do we seem happy?”
Cassian snorts while Mor replies, “oh we adore the two of you. Cassian is convinced he knew of your mating bond the day you two met.”
Cassian puffs out his chest in pride. “I most certainly knew, years before they did.”
“What made you know?” You ask, curiosity filling your eyes as you sat up.
“Well,” Cassian says, “the two of you didn’t interact much the first few years. Azriel needs time to warm up to people, and he’s worried he’ll scare people off if he comes on too strong. But I could just tell that he so desperately wanted to be your friend.”
“Hmm,” you muse, looking at Cassian in a confused way, “I always assumed he didn’t like me.”
Cassian looks at you quizzically, “and why is that?”
You sigh. “I always thought he found me… too soft. Too delicate.” You look out the window, and Cassian feels a pang of guilt. He knew Azriel could be a bit icy at times, but he hadn’t remembered what it felt like to not have that friendship.
Cassian studies you, “Why’d you think that?”
“I don’t know, it was just little things, I suppose. He’d never laugh at my jokes or talk to me much. Once you had paired us to be sparring partners and he just told you no and walked away to work with someone else.”
You remember a version of Azriel who hardly knew you. You’ve been placed in time right before Cassian started forcing you two to spend time together. For you, Azriel is practically a stranger.
Tears start rolling down your cheeks, “I don’t know him,” you say, “but it’s like my body knows him. I don’t.. know him.”
You take a deep breath, looking around the room to avoid Cassian’s sad face. “But I want him here. I don’t know why, maybe it’s the bond, but I just… want him here.”
You look down sighing, “I feel so bad that this is happening to him, he doesn’t deserve this. Even if I don’t know him.”
Cassian didn’t think his heart could break anymore, but he was wrong. Watching you cry over Azriel’s predicament but not your own gutted him. He moved to sit next to you on the couch and pulled you into his lap, letting you cry for a while.
After several hours of sitting with Mor and Cassian, Elain had recommended you get some fresh air, take a walk in the gardens. You ask if Azriel can join you, so he is staying near you, keeping an eye on you, but not too close.
You walked slowly, not sure if you wanted Azriel to catch up to you or to stay back. You felt gutted that this would happen to Azriel, despite your next to non-existent relationship with him up to this point.
The male trailed behind you, keeping the same distance in spite of your constantly changing pace. Your thoughts whirled and swirled, much like the shadows that dance around your mate. Your mate. You have a mate. And he’s here. That realization caused you to take some deep breaths, trying to keep yourself from spiraling into a panic.
Your brain can’t recall these things, but your body calls for him, wanting you to reach out and grab his hand. It is telling you that you stand on his left normally, allowing free range of motion for his dominant hand. It is telling you to let him lay on top of you, resting his head on your chest while he dozes off to nap. It is telling you to reach out and cup his jaw, that he will smile as you do so and pull you closer to him.
You don’t have memories of him, you have imprints of him, leaving whispers into your skin of how you were made for him. The yearning becomes too much and you need to hear him, so you turn to him and ask, “who did it snap for first?”
He blinks, a bit taken aback by your talking to him. He hasn’t heard you speak since the realization in Rhys’s office, much less speak to him directly. He takes longer strides, catching up to you quickly. He clears his throat and looks at you, “it snapped for me first, and I got to watch it snap for you.”
A soft smile graces his lips as he recalls the moment, so clearly in his memories he wishes he could send it directly to you. He can, he thinks, deciding that if you don’t have your memories, he’ll provide them for you.
“I bought you a locket for your birthday. A bit presumptuous, I know, but I had Feyre do a tiny portrait of myself to put in the locket. I also had a tiny piece of one of my siphons placed in the center so you could carry a piece of me everywhere.
“Your face lit up, but I was so nervous. I was trembling as I gave it to you. I almost dropped it when you asked me to clasp it around your neck. You hugged me so tightly, the locket pressing to my chest siphon and my siphon glowed.”
He smiles and reaches for your hand out of instinct, and you don’t pull away. When he notices what he’s done, he goes to retract his hand, but you clasp onto him harder.
“You had told me you would carry your loved ones in your pocket if you could and I got you the closest thing I could to that. I also had a shadow stay in the locket, they rotate who gets to be in the locket, but they like being close to you too. And in case of emergency they can slip out and find me.”
He pulls at the collar of his shirt, pulling out his own chain with a heart locket at the end. “You gave me one a week later. No siphon, but you used some of your light magic to embue a tiny stone so that it will glow forever.”
The locket looks so familiar, as if it was in a fairy tale you had read as a child. Your hand twitches, as if it wants to touch the locket. “You gave me the locket and when you saw it on my chest, your eyes lit up and I could feel you in my chest.”
You motion to a bench in the garden, and the two of you sit underneath a beautiful cherry blossom tree, its petals falling in the wind.
He moves his collar to tuck the necklace back in, pats it to his chest, then asks, “I’m guessing this is a lot to take in?”
You nod, “I mean it’s just been what five years? I have a hot mate that up until now he’s had no idea I��m hopelessly in love with him, the war is over, I missed Feyre and Rhys’s mating ceremony. It’s all sunshines and rainbows.”
He looks at you, “if it makes you feel better, they snuck out and did the ceremony in secret.”
He hears you grumble, “bastards” under your breath, making him chuckle.
“As for the hot mate who had no idea you were in love with him,” he pauses, watching your cheeks heat up with embarrassment, “he was the same way.”
You gape at him, hitting him on the shoulder, “don’t tell me things just to try to make me feel better!”
He laughs, “I’m not lying!”
You scoff, “You’ve spoken to me three times! One of those times you had asked me to move.”
He looks down, “okay maybe I wasn’t great at conveying it to you, but I thought about you constantly.”
You scoff again, thumping his chest, “you did not!”
“I did so!” He replies, just as childishly as you, “I spent so much of my energy trying to keep my shadows from harassing you at all hours. They kept pulling me, trying to coerce me into rooms you were in.”
He turns to look at you, your eyes a gateway to the before.
“I thought you were so pretty when you first showed up, I forgot how to breathe.”
Your cheeks heat as you look down at the ground, Azriel’s undivided attention being too much.
You look up at him, “okay, well if you were soooo in love with me, how come you refused to spar with me?”
You cross your arms over your chest, looking at the shadowsinger next to you, unable to believe that he’s your mate.
His wings flare ever so slightly, as he quietly tells you, “because being that close to you was too much.”
You look at him quizically, not quite getting what he’s referencing.
Azriel, for all his credit, is trying to be as coy as possible. The you from the present has an absolutely filthy mouth, the dirty talk between you two could strip paint off of walls. But this version of you? It feels wrong, violating almost. You’re not some innocent doe, far from it, but the way you two speak now was built on years of trust, a foundation that doesn’t exist for the version of you he’s looking at.
He sighs, coughing as he says, “I knew if I were to get that close to you, I’d have a hard time and I didn’t want to make a fool of myself in front of you.”
You bring your hand up to your mouth, giggling. “Aww the big, scary shadowsinger is afraid he’ll get a hard on while sparring. Do you have these fears with anyone else? Cassian, perhaps?”
He laughs, the first genuine laugh since you woke up yesterday morning. “Can’t say I’ve ever had that concern with him.” He shakes his head, “but also Cassian isn’t a pretty female.”
You smile, “no, I guess not. He’s not pretty, not like you.” You clamp your mouth shut, despite knowing you’ve been seeing him for years. Parts of you know this, but other parts feel the newness, the uncertainty.
He smiles, looking at you through the side of his eye. “You think I’m pretty?” It’s a sentiment you’ve told him before, but this version of you thinking it too is fascinating.
“Oh yeah, prettiest male I’ve ever seen.” You blush, deciding to tell him everything, “I uh- I asked Mor to make sure I can always sit next to you when we go out.”
Your confession causes him to pause, something he never knew about you. “Oh?” He asks, curious about this new information.
“Yeah, once she even pushed Cassian out of a seat so I could make it in time.” You laugh, remembering the shock on his face as he laid on the ground and you quickly grabbed his seat. “I thought if I sat next to you, you’d uh- fall in love with me.” You rush out the last part, your voice going quiet.
“But uh, I actually told her to forget about it, just last night. Or whenever that was….” You trail off, remembering your current predicament.
But Azriel was stuck in the past, stuck on your latest admission. “Wait, why did you tell her to let it go?”
You sigh, picking up a dandelion out of the grass, “well, I’d try really hard to get you to notice me or talk to me, but you never did.” You pick at the petals of the flower. “I figured I was annoying you, or you hated that I was keeping other girls from being able to chat you up. So I told her to let it go.”
Azriel balks at your admission, having no idea the extent of his effect on you. “I had no idea how to talk to you! You were so pretty, especially whenever we were at Rita’s.” He sighs, remembering how he’d overanalyze how to reapond to you, only to never say anything.
“It wasn’t until… Cassian.” He pauses, trailing off. “Cassian what?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest at the slight breeze.
“Cassian told me he spent a lot of time trying to seat us next to each other, to get me to talk to you. I wonder if he… got the idea after talking to you last night about it.”
You shake your head, “no, I only told Mor that - no way he knows.”
Azriel looks at you, “And how is the biggest gossip and busybody you know?”
Your eyes widen, realization hitting you, “oh my god,” you whine. “He heard me! He heard how pathetic I am!”
Azriel rolls his eyes, but you continue, “I was so drunk! I kept talking about you - and how you smell, and your hands, and your legs, oh my god.”
Your cheeks flare in heat, and your voice drops to a whisper. “I told Mor I had a dirty dream about you the other day - in detail!”
He smirks, “and what were we doing in this dirty dream?”
Your cheeks flame tomato red, as he laughs at you. “I guarantee you, sweetheart, whatever it was, we’ve done dirtier.”
He’s always enjoyed making you flustered, but this is an opportunity to fluster past you, one he will not let go to waste.
“About that,” you start, a sheepish grin adorning the cherry red of your cheeks. “How is our sex life? Is it good?” You ask, your voice lowered.
He laughs, “we make Cassian look like a prude with the amount of sex we have.” You gasp, approval for this future version of yourself. He leans in close to your ear, and whispers, “genuinely the best sex of my life.”
You bite your lip, but he continues. “Our general rule is for every night I’m gone on a mission, when I come back I have to make you finish at least once per day I’m gone.”
He chuckles low, the memory coming to him so easily. “I was once gone for twelve nights.” He pulled back, looking into your eyes. “And yes, all in one night.”
Your eyes widen, and you take a quick glimpse down towards his crotch. He watches you check him out, a smile ghosting on his lips.
You spent several days like that, most of your time spent with Azriel. You asked him about your lives together - where you two lived, what your days looked like together, what your lives with the Inner Circle looked like.
“Have I been able to convince you to take a day off?” You ask, the two of you eating at your favorite cafe in Velaris. Rhys had encouraged you to explore the city, hopeful it’s constant changing is able to jog something in you.
He smiles at you, chewing his croissant. “Actually, yes.” He says after swallowing. “We actually took a vacation to Summer during this past winter.”
You gasp, your eyes widening in excitement. “I’ve always wanted to go to Summer! How was it? Did we see any mermaids?”
He chuckles, “no, much to your disappointment.”
You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. “Can’t believe I didn’t get to see a mermaid.”
He smiles at your childish antics, looking at your pouting face. He still couldn’t process it - this was you, but it wasn’t his mate. You weren’t taking a bite of his croissant for yourself, you weren’t touching his knee with yours, you weren’t making up terrible excuses to hold his hand in yours.
Looking at you was excruciating, questions plagueing his mind as he looked. Will you ever remember him? Your life together? The late nights, the early mornings, the small moments that made up your relationship?
Or were you destined to be this past version of yourself forever? Would you develop new habits? Would you even fall in love with him, this version of himself who knows everything about you?
“Did we have a mating ceremony?”
He’s jolted back to the present, his mind finding itself in the past that your mind resides in. He smiles, warmth flooding his heart at the meer mention of that day. He gazes at you, telling you all about it. How all of Velaris loved you so much the town was covered in flowers, much to Cassian’s annoyance.
“I was so nervous, the whole day my hands kept shaking. The minutes before I saw you it got so bad my wings started shaking.”
“Why were you nervous?”
He breathes in deeply, surprised that tidbit came out of his mouth. He had never told you how nervous he had been - he didn’t want you to misconstrue it as reservations about you or your relationship.
He exhales, looking at his empty plate. “Being so vulnerable so publicly, declaring for everyone to know that I am yours and you are mine, felt so… intimidating.”
He grabs a napkin and starts shredding it, an effort to keep his hands occupied to keep them from shaking like they did that day. The shadowsinger rarely showed such nerves, but he always allowed you to see past the cool exterior he usually wore. “I was so scared. No one has ever loved me as openly as you do. My brothers love me, Feyre, Nesta, Mor - they love me. Elain, the Valkyries. All of them love me, but you wear your love on your sleeve. It’s practically on your face.”
He laughs as your hands reach up to your face, as if there was some physical marking there conveying your deep love.
“I’ve never had that. It made me a little scared.”
Without meaning to your hand reaches out to his, halting his napkin shredding. It’s the first time you’ve touched him since you woke up five days ago, and it lights Azriel’s heart aglow. He hadn’t realized how much he had been needing your soothing touch, the one way to know you were here with him.
He doesn’t move, allowing you to process what you’ve done as you see fit. He expects you to pull your hand back, retreating back into yourself as you used to do in the early stages of your relationship.
Your hand stays on his, your eyes meeting his. Your thumb grazes over the scarred skin, as if you could soothe the injury from centuries ago with a delicate touch.
It is quiet between you two, the sounds of the other patrons filling his ears. The soft clinking of spoons on plates, the murmured chatter, the scraping of chairs against the floor.
You’re looking at him like you know him, like you remember it all. He feels his heart in his throat, hoping to hear those words from you. You open your mouth and tell him, “I’m sure I was nervous too.”
The moment is gone, you pull your hand away to stir your coffee once more. Suddenly the patrons are too loud, their conversations too idiotic, the smell of the coffee is overwhelming.
A few days later you wake up to an empty bed in a room you aren’t familiar with. It takes you a moment to remember that you’re in Azriel’s room.
Your room.
The room around you is proof that this wasn’t a dream, despite almost two weeks having passed since your memory was lost. You get up, your nightgown grazing your thighs as you take in the room. You walk in front of the bookshelves, fingers grazing the titles.
Azriel really likes detective novels, you think. You’re continuing through when you find some unmarked books. Opening them, you find your own handwriting back at you.
Entries dated 2 years into your future, 3 years in your past. You’re skimming through the journal, Cassian having done something to annoy you to write several paragraphs until you find a new paragraph.
“Azriel.
Azriel is my mate. My mate. He gave me a locket. We stood on the balcony, just watching the stars. He told me about how the stars led him through the depths of his childhood, and how he would spend most of his nights gazing at the moon, hoping, praying for better days.
“Did you find better days?” I had asked him, and he told me, “I found you, didn’t I?”
You shut the notebook, Azriel’s words invading your sense.
“I found you, didn’t I?”
You hear his voice and are transported back, back to that rooftop, back to that cool night where he laid everything bare for you. That cool night where he draped his wings over you to keep you warm, to keep you wrapped in his arms.
You two spent all night on that roof, talking, making out like two teenagers, staying until the sun began to rose and the citizens of Velaris began waking.
You can smell the scent of cedar and mist, a smell you recognize as Azriel. You can see the slight pink hue dusting his cheeks as you kissed his face, littering his cheeks with dozens of kisses.
It all comes flooding back to you as you drop your journal, racing out of your room. You take the stairs down, searching, needing to hold him.
Him.
Your precious mate.
The male who holds an infinite amount of patience for you.
You see him as you round the corner of the kitchen, launching yourself into his arms. He catches you with a soft oof as your legs wrap around his waist. He holds you there, breathing you in, and you whisper in his ear, “I found you, didn’t I?”
Azriel grip on you tightens, a soft sob escaping him as clutches you, holding you like the world could be collapsing around him and it wouldn’t matter.
“I would have done everything to make you fall in love with me again,” he tells you, kissing your cheeks, his tears mixing with yours.
“And I would have kept falling in love with you.” You grab his face, and kiss him, pouring everything into it and down the bond. He responds with his own love and adoration down the bond, his lips soft and delicate against yours as he does so.
You two hear a groan from the doorway, but don’t pull apart. “We make food in here!” Cassian groans, stepping past you two, “go somewhere else!” He picks up a piece of a cookie and throws it at you, hitting you in the forehead.
You grumble, turning to face him, your eyebrows knitted together and a scowl on your lips. Cassian gasps, “you remember!”
You jump off of Azriel and start running towards Cassian, throwing bits of cookie at him as he runs away, “I remember you telling my mate you wish it was your memories gone so you wouldn’t have to be reminded how annoying I am!”
You chase him around the house, threatening him as you do so, until Azriel reached an arm out, pulling you into his chest, and just holds you there.
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unclewaynemunson · 7 months
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@bigskyandthecoldgun made this very big-brained post about the perfect miscommunication potential of Eddie's heart monitor betraying his feelings for Steve while he's recovering. @mostrizzaward asked me to write it and how could I say no to that :D
The first time Steve sets foot in Eddie's hospital room is terrifying. Eddie is as pale as a dead man. He has dozens of wires attached to his body, that are connected to just as many machines and monitors displaying complicated graphs, all softly beeping at varying intervals. Everyone in the room talks in soft, grave voices and all the nurses and doctors have matching serious frowns on their faces.
But what seemed to be impossible happens on a dreary Wednesday afternoon in April: Eddie opens his eyes for the very first time since he passed out in Dustin's arms. Steve is at work when that happens, but rushes to the hospital as soon as he can, and suddenly Eddie's room seems a lot less terrifying than before. Because Eddie is grinning at him from his bed, even though he's still pale and weak. He's not only alive, he's awake. It's a goddamn miracle. His wide grin is familiar despite the big scar that has marred his cheek. Fuck, Steve doesn't think he'll ever be able to put into words how much he missed that smile.
Eddie rasps his name as a greeting and Steve comes closer to the bed. But then, something weird happens.
The machines around Eddie's bed are still beeping, but there's less of them now. The electronic symphony of noises has been reduced to a duet of two different beep patterns that are clearly distinguishable from each other. And one of them speeds up rapidly when Steve leans over the bed in an awkwardly angled attempt to give Eddie a hug.
“You okay?” Steve asks, worried. He wonders if he should call for a nurse.
“Yeah, man,” Eddie mumbles. His eyes flash towards the monitor in question for a second and a blush creeps over his white cheeks. He seems ill at ease; Steve can't quite put his finger on it but there's something weirdly awkward about the whole thing. He seems otherwise fine, though, so Steve decides no nurses will be necessary.
He clears his throat and takes a seat in the chair next to the bed. For a moment, he wonders why he's even here. They weren't exactly friends before all of this happened. It would be perfectly normal for Eddie not to want him around – and yet here he is, visiting him in the hospital like it's the most normal thing in the world. What is he even doing here?
But then, Eddie starts talking about how his uncle was with him when he woke up and gave him this book he's been wanting to buy for ages.
“He cried, Steve, I've never seen him cry in my life, but he was bawling, I'm not kidding!”
Despite his animated tone, Eddie's voice is still weak and his eyes keep falling shut even while he is talking. Steve knows that he shouldn't overstay his welcome and let Eddie rest, but he finds himself too captivated in how alive Eddie is, even though his whole presence – his loud voice, his broad arm gestures, his expressive face – seems a little bit toned down. So when Eddie tells him with a vague gesture to his nightstand that he tried to read his new book, but found himself too tired to focus properly, Steve finds himself proposing to read it to Eddie before he even realizes what he's doing.
And then the weird thing happens again. Eddie starts smiling at the exact same time the heart monitor accelerates.
Steve chooses to pretend like he doesn't notice. Instead, he takes the book from the nightstand and flips it open on the first page. He starts reading aloud, but he can't really keep his attention on the words that come out of his own mouth. He can't help but feel like he made a mistake. Is the heart monitor signaling to him that his presence is making Eddie uncomfortable? Shouldn't he have left Eddie alone to rest when he started getting tired? Why the hell did he ever think it'd be a good idea to read to him in the first place? He's never been a good reader, and certainly not a performer like Eddie. So he awkwardly stumbles his way through the words on the pages, in no way able to keep up with the complicated plot and no doubt failing spectacularly in the use of voices and appropriately ominous pauses and whatnot. Whenever he glances up from the pages, he finds Eddie leaning into his pillow with his eyes closed and a faint smile around his lips, only to find out he's lost track of where he was when he directs his attention back to the book in his hands.
It doesn't take long until Eddie's breathing becomes audibly deeper and evens out. Steve softly closes the book. He allows himself a few moments to do nothing but stare at Eddie's face and be grateful for the absence of a breathing tube between his lips, showing that he's only sleeping this time. Then, he gets up and tiptoes out of the room.
***
The weird thing with the heart monitor keeps happening every time Steve visits Eddie. It happens when he greets him, when he starts reading to him, and especially whenever he helps him adjust his position in the bed he's still chained to. Every time they touch, every time Steve gets close to him in any way, like clockwork. And every time, it's paired with some kind of physical reaction on Eddie's part: a blush on his cheeks, a somewhat forced chuckle, or sometimes even a badly concealed flinch, away from where Steve's hands are touching Eddie.
Steve pretends not to notice it, for Eddie's sake, but it can only happen so many times before he has to face the clear and obvious truth here: his presence is making Eddie extremely uncomfortable.
One part of it still doesn't make sense, though: Eddie actually asks him to read to him or to help him sit up or lie down again, and the next thing he knows, Eddie will suddenly be avoiding his gaze and that goddamn heart monitor will make it sound like Eddie is trying to break a sprint record instead of lounging in his bed, and he'll recoil from Steve's touch like he doesn't want his hands anywhere around him.
Steve muses over Eddie's odd behavior for days before he comes to the only logical conclusion: Eddie is actually repulsed by him and is too polite to tell him the truth. It's the only explanation that makes sense. It's just like what Steve realized so clearly that first time after Eddie woke up: they weren't friends before this, so why should they be now? Steve has no business being at his bedside all of a sudden, and Eddie doesn't have the heart to be mean to him and spell that out for him.
He can't even blame Eddie for it. For most of the time they've known each other, Steve was a major asshole, everybody knows that. Sure, they're twenty now and Steve has moved past high school stereotypes when he got close to Robin, but still... Those stereotypes made up everything about who they were, how they were perceived and who they interacted with for four whole years of their lives – six even, in Eddie's case. Eddie doesn't have any reason to want to let that go like Steve did.
He would never admit it to anyone, but the conclusion he reaches breaks Steve's heart: he should stay away from Eddie. Eddie has every right not to like having Steve around and Steve certainly doesn't want to add to his discomfort. He has been through enough, Steve wouldn't want to make this whole long and painful process of recovery even worse for Eddie by imposing his unwanted presence on him.
It doesn't matter that Steve has started to look forward to his hospital visits like they're the very best part of his week. It doesn't matter that Steve's heart starts racing for whole other reasons than Eddie's whenever they're close, whenever they're touching or whenever Eddie is smiling that beautiful smile of his. It doesn't matter that Steve wants nothing more than to keep reading to Eddie even though he still doesn't have a clue what that stupid book is about. None of it matters, because that's simply the price one has to pay for being an asshole and a bully in high school.
It doesn't matter, because there are way worse things than the guy you've developed feelings for secretly harboring a grudge against you. He still has Robin, he still has his little nerds, he even has Nancy back; as a friend, this time, which is honestly better than things ever were between them. He has the knowledge that Eddie survived and will be getting better with each passing day. Maybe he can start dating again, find a cute girl with blue eyes and blonde hair who doesn't remind him of the one person he can't be around, and it'll all be fine again. It doesn't matter.
Update: there's now a sequel post :D
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steddiealltheway · 10 months
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"Steve! You've got to help me. I panicked, and I told my Tinder date that you and Eddie have been dating for two years!" Robin yells as she storms into their living room. 
Luckily, Steve's gotten used to her entering their apartment in such a way over the past few years, but he barely registers what she says in her haste. He takes a moment to stare at her with his eyebrows drawn together in confusion, hoping the words will eventually make sense. 
They don’t. 
"What?" 
Robin paces back and forth while gesturing wildly with her hands. "You know how I do the thing where I ramble around girls I find really really hot? Well, I was doing that, and I brought you up and kept going on about how annoying my roommate is-" 
"Are you kidding m-" 
Robin continues as if she didn't just insult him. "And she kind of stopped and look at me and said, 'Your roommate is a guy?' And I got confused and said yes because why would I lie? And she got all uncomfortable and started asking more questions like if you were gay or straight, and I told her you were bi, and she got even weirder! So, eventually I just straight up asked her what was wrong, and she said that she didn't want to go out with me if my roommate was potentially into me. So I told her that wasn't a problem because you've been dating Eddie for two years." She finishes with that awkward lip bite she does which can be oddly endearing sometimes. But it’s not this time. 
Steve leans forward on the couch. "I'm sorry. You still want to go out with a girl who has no trust in my ability to keep things in my pants? As if she doesn't trust that you're a lesbian and if I ever made a move on you, you would absolutely punch me in the throat." 
Robin sits next to him and grabs his hands. "She's so so hot, Steve. Please." 
Steve rolls his eyes. "Fine, you can keep telling her that I’m dating Eddie, I guess." 
Robin breaks eye contact and starts picking at her nail polish. 
Well, that’s not a great sign. "What aren't you telling me?" 
Robin slowly looks at him in the way a dog looks at their owner after destroying their favorite shoes. "Okay, so then I really got a bit crazy, and when she asked me to show me pictures of you two together, I dropped my phone in my glass of water." She slowly pulls out her phone, and sure enough, it won't even turn on. 
Steve digs the heels of his hands into his eyes before grabbing her phone and stalking off to the kitchen to find rice and a bowl. Robin follows after him. 
"So, all I need to do is take a few pictures of you guys looking really coupley on dates and whatnot and make it look like they range over the past two years. I also told Veronica that I would let her meet you two sometime soon,” She rushes in to add the second thing before Steve can really process the first one. She just smiles, trying to look all sweet and endearing.  
Steve gives Robin the best bitchy glare he has, but she shoots him one back and counters by saying, "You owe me, and you know it." 
"For what?" Steve asks as he pours rice over her phone. 
Robin crosses her arms. "Three weeks ago, you kicked me out of the apartment without warning to have sex with some random girl, and I was left stranded for the night." 
Steve scoffs, "You went to Nancy's and slept in her very nice guest bedroom!" 
"You owe me!" 
Steve puts the bag of rice down and sighs. "Fine, but if Eddie doesn't agree, then I'm out." 
Robin smiles. "Deal." 
Steve hates how confident she is about the whole thing, so he calls Eddie and puts him on speaker. When he answers, Steve immediately says, "Hey, Eddie, you're on speaker with me and Robin, and she has a very ridiculous request for you. I'll let her tell you the details." 
After Robin recounts her night and Steve tries not to rant about how much of a bad vibe he gets from the girl, Eddie pauses for a bit to take it all in. Then, he says, "Robin, I really don't like this Veronica girl." 
"She's hot!" Robin retorts. 
Eddie snorts on the other line. "I'm in if Steve's in." 
Steve's jaw drops. Robin shoots him a big smile. "Perfect! What if we started on pictures early tomorrow? I've got a lot of random dates to prepare you guys for." 
Steve interrupts before Eddie can answer. "And why can't you show her like... three pictures of us cuddling on the couch?" 
"We need to cover our tracks as much as we can and cuddling on the couch a few times won’t do. Oh, we should hang a few pictures of you two around the apartment!" Robin plots excitedly. 
Steve runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. He can't believe he's doing this. They don’t even have pictures hanging up. 
"Tomorrow works for me," Eddie says, entirely oblivious to Steve’s internal struggle. 
But Steve can't help but get a little excited at the thought of seeing Eddie and spending a whole day with him. 
So, he sucks it up and says, "I'm free, too. And I'm excited to see you, Eddie. I've missed you." 
"I saw you yesterday," Eddie laughs on the other line. 
Steve blushes and argues, "Seeing you for a minute when I get my coffee doesn't count." 
"Whatever you say, pumpkin bread." 
Pumpkin bread? Steve scrunches up his nose in protest. “That’s one of the worst things I’ve ever heard.” 
"Just practicing for when we meet this Veronica girl, my peach." 
Steve can’t help but laugh. "We are not that kind of couple. But I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good night. Sweet dreams, rubber ducky." 
Eddie laughs loudly on the other line and muffles the sound probably with his hand. 
Steve bites his lip, trying not to get too pleased at causing that reaction. 
"Good night, sweetheart." The line beeps three times as the call ends, and Steve can't help the smile that grows on his face. Sweetheart... he kind of likes that one. 
"Glad to see you two get into your roles," Robin says with a smirk. 
Steve jumps back, having forgotten she was there. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight.” With that, he quickly rushes off to his room before Robin can say anything else about the interaction. 
"Goodnight, dingus!" she calls after him joyously. 
This all better be worth it.
-:-:-:-:-:-
The next morning, Steve can't help but get a little nervous when Eddie sends him an "Almost there!" text. He has a feeling this whole thing is going to blow up in their faces or something. 
He's always known that Eddie's been cute. Hell, the first time he saw him, Steve thought he was hot. But he had never thought of them together after that. Sure, there was definitely a certain chemistry between them, but for some reason, Steve always saw him as off-limits. Especially since Dustin would kill him if he ever broke Eddie's heart. 
So, Steve learned to push down any feelings he's had for him over the years. And he's afraid that all those repressed feelings are going to come up today.  
There's a knock on his and Robin's apartment door, and Steve freezes. Hopefully his and Eddie’s friendship will survive whatever happens next.  
Here goes nothing.  
He opens the door to find a curly head of hair in front of him that isn't Eddie's. 
"Nancy?" 
"Hi! I'm here to take pictures today," she explains as she walks through the door, wiggling her Canon camera in her hand. "I thought Robin told you." 
"She certainly did not," Steve says and pinches his nose. He might kill her. He pushes the door shut, but it stops. 
"Hey," Eddie says peaking his head out from behind the door and catching Steve’s eye quickly. "Sorry, I'm late," he apologizes as he pulls Steve into a tight hug. 
Steve lingers in it, squeezing Eddie tightly, smelling the lavender shampoo he uses, and trying to make the moment last as long as he can. 
The sound of a camera shutter snaps him out of the moment. 
He pulls back and looks at Nancy. 
"Taking some candid pictures," she says unapologetically. 
But Steve doesn't care too much when he feels Eddie's hand linger on his back. "You're taking pictures for us? What happened to Robin?" 
"Yes, what did happen to Robin?" Steve asks raising his voice so she'll hear him. 
"Coming!" she yells then comes out of her room looking very strangely put together. Steve glances down at her wrist and notices her wearing her lucky black bracelet. When did she start wearing that again? 
"You look nice," Nancy says with a soft smile. 
"Thanks," Robin replies with a soft blush. 
Steve is definitely missing something, but he can't pay attention when Eddie is gently rubbing his back. He's going to end up dying on the spot. 
"Eddie!" Robin says, finally noticing him, "I see you brought the extra clothes." 
Steve glances down to where Eddie's suitcase sits on the floor. He does not remember him bringing that in. Shit, he's so distracted by his presence. Wait. "Why did you bring extra clothes?" he asks Eddie then notices how close they're standing. Oh, hello, Eddie's very soft-looking lips. 
"I told you we're covering two years. That means different seasons," Robin says as if the answer is obvious. 
Hell no. "There's no way in hell I'm wearing cold clothes outside in the heat." 
"Good thing I planned for us to stay in for those pictures," Nancy says with a smile on her face. "Now go change into one of your sweaters or something. Oh! Eddie, you should change with him so you two can color coordinate. It'll be so cute!" 
Steve adds Nancy to the list of people he might murder. 
Eddie's hand drops from his back as he wheels the suitcase into Steve's room. Steve follows and closes the door behind him. 
"Sorry for all this," Steve says, glancing around to make sure nothing embarrassing is laying out. 
Eddie shakes his head and brushes it off as if it's nothing, "Nah, it's all good. I think it could be fun if we let it. Color coordinating is a horrible idea though." 
"Agreed," Steve replies, deciding that his room looks fine. He opens up his closet and pushes his short sleeve clothes to the side to try to get to his sweaters hanging in the back. "What are you thinking for clothes?" 
"I don't care as long as you wear your yellow sweater for one of the pictures." 
Steve snorts. For some reason, Eddie had such an attachment to the thing. One time, he mistakenly put it in his designated donation bin, and he thought Eddie was going to cry when he found it. 
He had cradled the thing to his chest and dramatically said, "You don't understand, Steve. Some people's lives depend on you wearing this sweater. Their lives, Steve." 
Steve had rolled his eyes, put it back on a hanger, and hung it with the other sweaters. "Better?" he asked. 
"Much better."  
And the whole thing had been worth it to see the smile on Eddie's face - especially when Steve decided to surprise him by wearing it to the coffee shop the next day. 
"Whatcha thinking about?" Eddie asks with a smile, suddenly very close to him. 
Steve shakes his head as if shaking away the memory. "Nothing." 
Eddie raises an eyebrow but he doesn't push it before he goes back to his suitcase and starts laying out his clothes on Steve's bed. 
Steve strips off his shirt and pulls the sweater over his head. He glances down at his jeans and decides that Veronica probably won't remember what pants he was wearing in each picture. 
He turns to tell Eddie as much but freezes when he sees Eddie shirtless, sorting through the clothes to find the perfect assortment of layers. Steve swallows and adverts his eyes. He is not going to check him out while he's changing. He clears his throat and turns back to his closet. "I think we just need to change our shirts. Maybe outside, you can start with a base layer then add on top of that." 
Steve doesn't think he can stand to see shirtless Eddie with all his tattoos out in the daylight or the moonlight - if it takes that long. And he certainly does not want to let anyone else see that either. 
"That's smart, babe." 
Steve's hand squeezes whatever poor shirt he was grabbing a little too tight at the nickname. He's never been one for nicknames, especially over-the-top ones, but knowing it's Eddie calling him that as if he really does love him... it really does something for Steve. 
He doesn't reply as he grabs a few shirts and jackets and lays them out on the bed next to Eddie's stuff. 
He glances up at Eddie and almost breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that he has a shirt on. And a flannel. And his leather jacket. Thank goodness for layers. 
He looks back at Eddie's face and catches the exact moment that Eddie registers him wearing the yellow sweater. His eyes fill with unhinged excitement and joy. He walks right into Steve's space and leans down - oh my god - to talk to the sweater. 
"I've missed you so much. You know, it's so unfair that Steve only gets to wear you for a small part of the year. And he doesn't own anything short-sleeved in your beautiful color it seems." 
Steve puts his hands on his hips and stares up at the ceiling. He can't believe he's ever had trouble pushing down feelings for this man. 
(But he makes a note to himself to buy more things in yellow just for him.) 
There’s a loud knocking on the door, then Robin yells, “You two have been in there for a while! Everything okay?” 
“Eddie is talking to my sweater again!” Steve calls back. 
There’s a pause before Nancy says, “Sorry, we didn’t hear you right. What?” 
“I’m talking to his sweater! Be out soon!” Eddie yells. 
There’s some mumbling outside the door as Steve finally looks down at Eddie and asks, “Are you done?” 
Eddie smiles up at him. “Never.” 
But he straightens up and presses a quick kiss to Steve’s shoulder before he turns to leave the room. “That was for the sweater, not you,” Eddie clarifies. 
“Right,” Steve replies. Because that makes so much sense.
Today is going to kill him. 
Part two ;)
(This was meant to just be a ficlet for my dear friend @henderdads , and then it turned into a six-part fic. I hope you enjoy!! ((Especially you, Cass)) AO3 Link here!)
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0deadly-nightshade0 · 4 months
Text
Broken Him
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summary - You change his mind
warning - mention of abuse! (not coryo)
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Coriolanus Snow would not marry for love, he wouldn’t allow himself to be so vulnerable, so weak.
Love makes people delusional and it once made him deluded.
Lucy gray
that name wrang in his head like an unstoppable fire alarm, his feelings angry, yet betrayed, sad? all he knew was that his firey feelings towards her made that fire alarm ring on and on.
So he married the person he cared the least for his.
His little wife.
His little wife that doted on him, that spent all her days, every minute, every second trying to please him.
He didn’t love her, he couldn’t,
Always stood at the door, waiting for him to come home, her pretty little pink 50s swing dress on, ballet flats adorned with bows, a row of pearls around her neck, resting gently over her collar bones.
She was happy.
She had to be.
There was no way, after marrying someone like him, much more attractive, higher rank, smarter.
A man who gave her anything her naïve little heart wanted.
A massive estate, bags, dresses and more.
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Coriolanus walked in, expecting to see his darling wife stood by the door.
Nobody.
I look of confusion crossing his face.
“Wife?”
He somewhat shouts.
He walks along to her bedroom, cracking the door open slowly.
There you were.
his brows furrowed as he watched you take a long drag of your cigarette.
Your mascara running down you cheeks.
like watercolour paint.
continuing to water down, and dry in streaks.
the ash on the end not flicked off.
a glass of red wine in your hand, much different from your usual light sweet alcoholic drink.
You looked a state.
“Something on your mind?” He asks walking in, sitting next to you on the window seat.
You seem startled, shocked at his presence.
“I’m fine” you respond flatly, the moonlight illuminating your sad face in a way that makes him feel something.
not good.
“I know when your lying” He smirks, his piercing blue eyes examining every part of you.
“I could say the same for you” You snap, though your voice isn’t loud, and it shows a hint of sadness in it.
Coriolanus looked surprised, his little wife being so? so rude to him.
His faced shifted to a serious one, his eyes narrowed a little.
“Watch your tongue, wife.”
He knew what this was about, his love for you.
he could feel you slipping away from him.
“We both knew what this was. I don’t need to love you for us to have a successful marriage”
you start to stare out the window.
“I don’t want a successful marriage, I want someone who loves me.”
He was like a deer in headlights.
and it all started to dawn on him.
his sadness earlier at you not being by the door.
seeing you sad.
he was falling for you.
and he couldn’t let himself.
“I-I can’t love you” It was more an admission of defeat than an answer to your want.
“I know you can’t, but it was cruel for you to choose me and leave me in the dark about that, you don’t know the life I’ve lived, and you don’t know how you’ve ended all my hopes”
‘Shit.’ you thought.
stupidly you had brought your past into this.
He almost looks confused.
“Why the hope of love? Don’t you understand it makes you weak? and vulnerable?”
You think for a moment, how to explain love to a person that wishes not to be loved.
“But you have been loved, had people around you love you, you’ve had many people love you, it doesn’t make you weak it makes you stronger, having constant people in your life who love you and are willing to do anything for you”
Coriolanus was trying to see what the disconnect between to the two of you was.
“That love is a weakness because love is also a vulnerability. The people who you love the most are also the ones who can hurt you the most. If I love someone fully with my whole heart they also have the potential to completely destory me”
Lucy gray. that name pinged in his head again.
“Tigris? would she do that? Grandma’am? would she do that? no. Whoever has hurt you before didn’t love you, atleast not strongly. that I can say with one hundred percent certainty.”
you look over at him, giving him a sad smile.
that you were correct about.
his walls felt like they were crumbiling down.
never had he viewed her with such a high opinion.
that was a fair assumption.
one he hadn’t made.
Coriolanus pauses, Tigris, his cousin, did love him. And he was never worried about her being someone who could hurt him, because she couldn’t.
It was one very rare time coriolanus had been beaten in a debate of words.
“How do I know you wouldn’t do the same?”
“Because I couldn’t, I’ve loved someone, and the way they treated me, made me vow to never hurt anyone that loves me.”
“to treat people the best I can”
She couldn’t?
“I would feel to guilty, but I can’t force you into loving me”
Coriolanus paused again. You sounded similar to himself but instead of vowing to treat people the best he could, he had instead vowed himself never to love.
You were alike in so many ways, yet complete opposites.
how was this innocent little woman doing this to him.
he felt vulnerable.
“Who hurt you?”
“My father, he was very physically abusive, and I albeit atupidly, still loved him, but I vowed never to hurt someone who loves me, to never break them like he broke me”
Coriolanus took in your words, he couldn’t Imagine what that was like, still putting other first after that.
so kind, so pretty, and slightly smart.
“Aren’t you afraid of love hurting you again?”
you had to think.
“Nobody will ever love me, I barely leave this estate, you don’t love me, and I have no friends”
He did that.
and he felt awful.
he wanted you to himself, even if he didn’t love you.
listening to her words.
Coriolanus looked at his wife for a moment, contemplating his choices.
His marriage felt superficial compared to everything else he had dealt with before.
He married her becuase she was easy, innocent, naïve.
he had broken her.
and she had broken him.
“Kiss me”
He blurts out.
“C-Coriolanus I can’t, I won’t push you to do that kind of stuff.”
You shake your head.
Coriolanus took notice of your refusal.
“I ordered you to kiss me, now kiss me”
he says.
you gingerly graze your hands against his cheeks, kissing him softly.
Coriolanus felt his entire body warm up, you were like the water that set out all his firey thoughts.
The entire world could burn to the ground around you both and he wouldn’t care.
Your lips, your hands, your face, your body, he flet like he was in heaven.
You had broken him, and he was glad.
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Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 🎀
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actuallysaiyan · 4 months
Note
Thank you for opening requests!!! I desperately needed some Nanami fluff (with slight angst, blame my hormones) 😔❤️
Reader is carrying Kento's first child, however the whole pregnancy was difficult, even putting reader's life on the line at times. Needless to say he's been quite supportive but during labor there's nothing he can do as he sees countless doctors rushing in the room.
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warnings: angst, mentions of hospitals, mentions of abortions, difficult pregnancy, pregnancy, giving birth, probable mentions of blood, mentions of death and loss, happy ending!!!, breastfeeding, lots of crying word count: 1.3k pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: your pregnancy was tough and though you were determined to carry your child to term, it didn't come without a few bumps in the road. now faced with the prospect of losing you, Kento sits and waits in what he believes must be his own purgatory. a/n: Thank you for this amazing request!!! I hope you enjoy!!! Also please note I've never given birth nor been pregnant, so if things seem off, then that's why.
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He’s nearly tearing his hair out of his head as he sits near the door to the hospital room where you are. You’re in labor, yet he’s not allowed inside the room. The pregnancy had been so difficult, and even with your beloved doing everything in his power to support you, the coming of your child was something that needed much more medical intervention than previously thought.
Tears sting his eyes as he watches so many doctors enter the room you’re in right now. Kento thinks about how beautiful you looked when you first became pregnant. You were absolutely glowing, and you were very much excited to carry your first born to term. Things got complicated within the second month, the doctor finding a few anomalies. Yet he had told both of you that it wouldn’t be anything to worry about. Turns out ‘nothing to worry about’ is a lot to worry about. The next ultrasound proved to be nothing but a lot of bad news. The doctor had even suggested terminating the pregnancy and to try again, but Kento had pushed for this one to keep going.
You had agreed. The doctor promised to do everything in his power to ensure that you’d be fine. Lots of bedrest, no stress and all kinds of vitamins. Lots of doctors appointments. Kento had been there with you the entire time as well. He’d leave work early most days just to be there with you at the apartment. You slept most of the day, but Kento was sure to help you with anything else you needed to do on a daily basis.
The last doctor’s appointment had been a tough one. You and Kento received the news that the birth could be extra complicated. The doctor warned about how it could potentially put you in a very rough spot in terms of health after this. He had told Kento that he’d probably need to take up most of the parental role at the beginning. Once you were allowed to go home after the birth, you’d be most likely on bedrest once again.
Kento looks over at the door of the room, his eyes still so cloudy with tears. He’s gripping the plastic of the chair, wanting nothing more than to burst into that room and hold your hand. From time to time, he’d hear the doctors calling out to one another. He heard little bits and pieces, and his heart rate escalated as he heard one of them talk about saving the baby over you. Kento wished he could go into the room and tell them not to do that.
He can’t help himself anymore. Tears spill from his eyes, and Kento removes his sunglasses. He reaches into his pocket for the monogrammed handkerchief to wipe his tears. His heart is in his throat and feels sick to his stomach. His hands shake as he reaches for the phone in his pocket, wondering who he should call just to talk to in the moment. He’s scared and he’s never been more scared in his entire life right now. Kento feels small and insignificant. What kind of husband is he if he can’t even be with his ailing wife right now?
The minutes drag on and on and on. It’s beginning to hurt him deeply. Like tiny little cuts all over his heart, breaking open and tearing the muscle to shreds. His breathing is shaky as he watches less and less people go into the room. His mind wanders; the worst possible outcomes rushing through every little thought. You’ll be dead before he can even come into the room and see you. He’ll never get to see your beautiful smile again. Kento thinks of all the times he was graced with that angelic smile. It hurts so deeply, he swears he’s going to be sick.
Then, a miracle happens… he hears the cry of a baby. His baby. His heart skips a beat and comes back thumping like a hummingbird. The baby was alright. But were you alright? Did you make it out of it in one piece? Kento knows he doesn’t care if he has to take care of your little one for the rest of his days if it means he gets to have you in his arms again. He’ll gladly be the best dad to your little baby and give you all the time you need to rest.
A few minutes later, one of the nurses slowly approaches him. She has a tiny little bundle in her arms, and the tears begin to well up in Kento’s eyes once more.
“Nanami-san?” She calls out to him, and he gets up from his chair and approaches her.
“It’s me…I’m Kento Nanami.”
She unveils the little bundle and Nanami begins to cry when he sees his little daughter. She’s crying a little, and he sees that she has his eyes. His heart feels so full for  a moment, then he begins to think back to you. The nurse hands him the small baby and soon she’s looking up at her dad.
“Your wife needs a little more care. She’s lost a lot of blood—”
Kento’s eyes widen, “Will she be okay?!”
The nurse smiles patiently, “Your wife will be okay. She just needs a little extra care. The doctors have stopped the bleeding. I just thought you’d like to see your little one.”
Kento sighs a breath of relief. His heart feels full again. And then he hiccups softly when he feels his little baby reaching out to him. She’s so tiny and so soft and so cute. Her eyes look just like his own. She has your nose and your smile. And she has his ears, which makes him laugh.
“If you’d like to come with me, I can get you situated in a comfortable room and we’ll bring your wife in when she’s ready to be in the recovery room.”
Nanami nods happily; he’s at a loss for words. He follows the nurse to a recovery room that was set up for the baby and the mother. He’s seated in a very comfortable chair, the little daughter still safely nestled in his arms. The nurse tells him she’ll be back with his wife once she’s ready to be in recovery.
At that moment. Kento begins to fall in love all over again. His little baby is really here in his arms. She coos and coughs a little, still getting used to being outside in the world. She’s so tiny and so precious. More tears slide down his cheek as he leans down to press the softest little kiss on her forehead.
“Hi my sweetness…you’re a part of the Nanami family now. Yes you are, my little angel.”
His words surprise him a little, but he’s been waiting for this moment for so long. It felt agonizing to watch you go through the worst pregnancy ever. It’s all worth it to finally be able to hold this little bundle of joy. He presses another kiss to her forehead and he begins to relax a little more.
After an hour, the nurse knocks on the door. Then she opens it, and she and another nurse are wheeling in his wife on a gurney. You look at Kento and you see the tears in his eyes. He’s so relieved to see you well enough to be here with him. Kento gets up as the bed is settled into the right position.
“You did it, my love. You gave birth to our little angel.” Kento says as he begins to settle the sleeping baby into your arms. She fusses a little and you undo your hospital gown top to let her feed from your breast.
“I’m so grateful, Ken. I didn’t know what was going to happen…and I…” you hiccup softly. Your little girl latches onto the nipple and you feel your heart filling with joy as she begins to suckle.
“Shhh…it’s okay, my love. We’re okay. You’re okay.” Kento reassures you.
He looks at you feeding your daughter, and he knows nothing will ever take either of you away from him. Nothing.
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soapoet · 6 months
Text
Your first kiss with them
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requested by anon.
like & rb if it resonates ♡
01.
You very well may have felt this one coming long before it actually does. There is a sense of pieces falling into place as you had forseen. For some, you may have thought about this often, consciously or not manifesting it into your reality. Still, it feels special and somehow out of the blue. Despite scripting the perfect scene you are still in for the unexpected. Like a director watching the actor go off script with a strike of genius, giving an award winning performance worthy of applause.
There could be miscommunication receiving clarity prior to this kiss. It is possible one or both of you spend some time catastrophising words spoken previously and in the time spent apart a mountain is truly made from a molehill in your head. It may take quite a bit of courage to bring this to the table, but it is so very worth it in the end. It seems almost as if this obstacle is what clears not just the air of concern about the matter itself but the tension overall as well. Your person is hit quite hard by the revelation of having in some way hurt you unintentionally, and as they apologise for their trespasses against you they find it necessary to come clean about how it is that they truly feel about you, which may come as a surprise to you even if you already had your suspicions. They speak to you so earnestly, opening their heart and mind up like a book that appeared glued shut for so long. You may even go off script yourself. Having daydreamed and rehearsed this moment, you may stray from the practiced shock and awe and simply accept their feelings and show that you knew all along. Which could be to their horror as they were certain they had their feelings under lock and key.
Their prior stoicism and the austere walls built tall and daunting finally come down to let you in. They will ask to borrow your time outside their obligations. For many, you'll be taken by hand for a walk, or simply away from prying eyes for a moment of privacy. They seem concerned about your comfort, and it's possible this occurs late, outside, in chilly weather wherein you are left shivering, though telling them it's fine. I see biting cold winds and your hand in theirs. I'll be honest, much of this conversation feels like a job interview as they gauge your compatibility. They may ask major questions right away such as your wishes regarding children and marriage, and expressing theirs. The conclusion is that you are compatible at your core values despite being so different otherwise.
This first kiss is contrasted by the cold, like a home and hearth amidst the snow. Often we think of cinematic kisses as the rest of the world fading away to make room for the lovers, but in this instance it seems more like the lovers merge and blur into their environment. As an onlooker, it's akin to a mirage. Two figures under a streetlight, there in one moment and gone in the next. It feels like two previously disturbed souls at peace, finding home at last.
Additional details: hair dye, boundaries, text messages and phone calls, nostalgia, snow and rain, flowers (roses and lilies specifically), shoelaces, caffeine, napkins, gifts, disney, mental health, addiction, breakups, stress, muscle cramps, insomnia, fairy lights, dancing, candles, blue eyes, 4AM, winter and late autumn, short trips, playlists, lip gloss, hiking trails.
02.
There is a distance which sometimes feels larger than it really is. For some this is moreso an emotional distance, but for many, this is a physical distance between you and your person. It seems that even the construction of the foundation had a steep price of time, and building upon this connection was a steady, albeit slow, progress. Some days you may have felt silly, wasting precious time and your youth on potential rather than promise, but you stuck it out and found that many of the things you so often thought were only in your head were true after all, and your feelings were mutual all along.
This distance, be it physical or otherwise through hectic and uncooperative schedules and poor timing, feels frustrating for a while. Yet the two of you stay strong and carry on trudging through the uncertainties and overcoming obstacles. The time spent on laying a stable foundation of sincere friendship pays off here as you both remain patient and faithful, and manage to work things out in your favour.
There is much anticipation going into this. For those of you for whom this is a long distance relationship, this first kiss occurs upon the very first meeting. Could be at an airport, train station, or some other mode of transportation. For those of whom this is merely an emotional distance or unfavourable schedules, this occurs at the very first meeting after agreeing to take the next step in the relationship from friends to something more. Commitment is very sure and stable, and you feel at peace knowing there is no rug beneath your feet for you to worry about being pulled, but strong and solid rock that will not crumble. A lot of messages and calls are exchanged, and you both feel as though you're a part of each other's day to day as if you've lived together for years. And thus, this first kiss may feel a little like making up for lost time, as though it's a formality that must be checked off the list as mentally and emotionally you are so much further along in the relationship than you are physically and must play catch-up.
Though it feels rushed, it's exactly as giddy and exciting as you had always hoped it would be. A warm embrace and a sense of relief, both filled to the brim with excitement to finally be in such close proximity and have the time and space to enjoy each other's company fully and undisturbed. A hug quickly turns to a kiss, and two and three and four. It is simultaneously bashful and bold, nervous and full of glee. A poor attempt at maintaining a balance between remaining calm and being chill, and the inability to keep your hands off of each other. Regardless how busy the environment, nothing else seems to matter than the two of you. Hustle and bustle, noise and people rushing here and there, with the two of you amidst it all in your own bubble of stillness.
Additional detail: linguistics, green, crochet, painting, singing, mozzarella, long hair, winter coat, autumn, pumpkins, cardamom, children, sleepovers, astrology, witches and wizards, cats and felines in general, politics, psychology, scrapbooks, baking, bills, anime, youtube, video games, typing, cars, small apartment, herbs and spices, nutrition, skincare.
03.
This scenario feels the most outright romantic and purposeful. There is something so very classic about this situation altogether, as though it is here to prove courtship and chivalry are both alive and well in this era. And yet, it feels new and refreshing, like the romance novels of old received a brand new cover and a modern twist. The courtship feels meticulous, but not uptight or strained. There is a lot of ease and wind in the hair you're able to let down after a stressful period. For many this may occur some time after a breakup or another interpersonal relationship which comes to an end and you find yourself ready to accept suitors again, or pursue them yourself, or simply putting yourself out there, so to speak.
These new winds in your sail may feel different even solely by the way in which this circumstance comes about. Your person could be quite bold, or direct in a way you haven't experienced before. They make their intentions clear and allow you to call the shots and make the decision as to whether you'll take their hand and let them lead you on a brand new adventure, or simply choose to not get involved. This prospect is alluring to you especially if you have felt previously you have waited for initiative to be taken without having to ask, always feeling as though nothing gets done unless you serve as the taskmaster.
Many of you could meet, or agree to go on a date, somewhere quite public and loud. A gathering of sorts, like a concert, party, or other lively event with plenty of eyes. There likely is an element in which these many pairs of eyes play a role, and I won't lie, the two of you may garner some attention and whispers amongst the crowd or people the two of you know. This doesn't appear to faze either of you, as there seems to be a good balance of public displays of affection and clarity that the two of you are indeed out and about together, and also spending time talking just the two of you, so gossip can travel without your care or concern, and the two of you could even enjoy the attention and the speculations, especially ruffled feathers of the few envious pairs of eyes.
Things seem lighthearted on the outside, but have more purpose behind closed doors, and you may discuss dreams and the future, expectations and plans, very early on. Though you're out proudly prancing in the sun together, it is not until it sets and you have the privacy of the dark between just the two of you that a first kiss is shared. It is sweet and gentle, but bubbles with unexpected chemistry. It's possible that something about this is very new to both of you. You could come from different backgrounds, cultures, or seemingly different worlds, or perhaps you are not their usual type or vice versa, yet it works somehow, and feels quite exciting and magical. There is a lot of security here, and a mutual understanding of what you both wish for the future to hold. Agreeing to take things one step at a time and look out for one another to make sure you both move towards the future in union, always on the same page, and have each other to lean on in case the going gets rough. There is a lot of passion here and it shows the most in your privately shared moments, though many may doubt what could possibly come of you two. It seems the unexpected seems the most stable experience yet for both of you.
Additional details: dinner dates, pumpkin patches, Charlie Brown, acoustic guitars, birthdays, calendars, live music, handwritten notes, bouquets, cinema, popcorn, red, meeting the parents, karaoke and singing in general, dancing, swimming pools, sports, motorcycles, muscle cars, brown hair, cuddling, smiles, archery, airplanes.
946 notes · View notes
thegnomelord · 4 months
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I REALLY LOVE THE STRAIGHTFOWARD WEREWOLVES SOAP. OMG. Its just really funny in my head, imagine the way soap would act so shameless around the reader, uncaring about the stare he got because thats just how they are! The werewolves race with their no-shit and unfiltered attitude, and oh if they take interest in you, prepare your heart especially if you has a weak one; because surely they'll cling their every waking moment with you, sniffing every spots of you that they can reach. Absurd yet endearing flirtiratios compliments would hurled at you, catching you off guard cause they just come out of nowhere. Baring their fangs at potential rivals, worst case scenario if its their own race, because they can and will get violent, best calmed the werewolves down before anything awful happened. Just a thing between werewolves to prove which one is the stronger and more qualified, whose more worthy of your love, in their point of view.
If you have the time can you make a short fic, it would be the highlight of my life for weeks!!
Okay yes but also because I love needy clingy pathetic Soap too much lol
CW: NSFW, gn reader, grinding, somnophillia, quick and rough.
You've noticed that Soap has started to act. . . strange.
He's started trying to feed you all types of stuff, mostly meat, seeking you out at all times of the day. You'll see him go out to the woods and come back with some large animal, and an hour later he'll be coming to you with a plate of food and a 'Kiss the cook' apron on (every time you have to bite back from drawing attention to the fact the arrows point down to his dick). "Hey, need that wonderful mouth of yer's to try this out." He says, watching with rapt attention as you try his food, taking every critique with a wagging tail.
And if you like his food, oh, there's a giant grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, ye like that?" He comes closer, the plate in your hands forcing distance between you two. "Reckon this cook should get a reward." He's already stepping around to press his chest flush with your back before he can finish his sentence, and you don't have the heart to stop him because the food is mouth watering and he's just scenting you, even if the occasional flick of his tongue against your nape makes you shiver. (You, again, try not to draw attention to a hard bulge grinding into your ass)
That's the other thing. He's gotten really clingy.
He's always been clingy with all the team members, nuzzling his cheek against Gaz, whining like a kicked puppy when pushes him away with a hand on his face, tail wagging as he scents Price. Usually he's satisfied after he's done scenting the lads in your team, happy to continue with his business.
But with you. . .
You can't even sit on the couch for five seconds before his burly body is snuggling up to you, taking his seat in your lap like he owns it, like he's a lap dog. Doesn't even excuse himself before his hands are groping your biceps as he nuzzles your neck. "Aye, yer so hoht," He purrs, full body rubbing against you. "Could use ye fer a blanket on cold nights." You don't know how to feel about that, his words causing your mind to stutter long enough for him to replace the scents lingering on you with his own.
And when someone enters to find you like this, he doesn't even throw them a glance, gripping onto you like a koala and all you can do is mouth a 'help me'. Doesn't work though, as the second he senses someone is getting near he's growling like a monster truck's engine, glaring at the poor sod with his face still stuck in your neck.
Or, if you're busy with something, he'll saddle up to you, ears perked up. "Oi, bonnie, hold som'ting fer me." He'll whine, tugging on your arm until you sigh.
"Fine, just give it here." You growl, holding out your arm, still concentrated on what you're doing.
Next thing you know you're cupping his jaw, his head resting on your hand. "Anyone ever tell ye, yer got perfect hands te grope with?" Johnny grins at you, that one snaggletooth fang pinching his lip, using your confusion to rub the scent glands in his cheeks against your palm, making sure you smell like him.
You shake out of your stupor and pull your hand back, resisting giving in when he gives you such a heartbroken whine. "No, Johnny." You growl and shoo him away, but he still manages to brush his tail against your leg.
You make the mistake to fall asleep on the communal couch after a grueling day of training recruits. When Johnny finds you, his nose immediately trying to get a whiff of your scent, he growls when he can barely get traces of it beneath the smell of dirt and sweat and way too many people when the only scent you should have on you is his. His inner wolf growls along with him, his ears pricking up straight, staring at your sleeping form.
He's more than happy to rectify your mistake.
He lays on top of you, purring happily to himself when you don't even shift. "Good mate," He hums to himself, wrapping around you like a blanket, face buried in your neck once again. His hands slide beneath your shirt, making him pant into your skin from the sensation of your muscles beneath his hands. He moves his body slowly, seeking to have as much skin contact as he can, mouth watering and angel bells ringing in his skull at how he can taste his scent replacing everyone else's on your skin.
He doesn't notice when he starts to nibble on your neck, but it's the sensible next move, what better way to keep competition away than let everyone know you're taken? Johnny's marks bloom across your throat as he sucks hickeys into your skin, his wolf and himself standing on common ground to make sure you're covered in his marks.
He pulls back his head to look at his work and groans, cock immediately hardening in his pants from you covered in his marks. His hips gain a life of their own, thighs gripping your own as he grinds down, already half drunk on your scent.
You wake up to find his hot breath fanning over your face, the sensation of something hard grinding against your leg dissipating any residual drowsiness. "Johnny, what the fuck?" You ask, voice rough from sleep, only now registering his weight on top of you.
"'m sorry bonnie," Johnny whines, burying his face into your neck to muffle his whining. "Just- hah- needed ye."
You grumble, but you can't hide the way heat burns through your veins at the sight of him, his face flushed, claws gripping you like you'll disappear, desperately humping against your leg.
"I can see that." You say, tensing your thigh to give aid him in his grinding, your eyes growing wide at the loud moan that escapes him, like he's a whore on camera.
"Oh, shite, thank ye, thank ye, thank ye-" He whines, his humping growing faster, butterflies fluttering in his stomach at the way you hadn't pushed him away, that you're accepting his advances, muttering 'mate' under his breath as he chases after his orgasm.
He cums before either one of you knows it, a dark stain forming in his pants as he bites down and groans into your neck. You grunt, but Soap's quick to release your skin and lap at the aching spots with his tongue, soothing the pain.
"'m sorry bonnie." He mumbles, cock still hard in his pants, his wolfish eyes settling on you. Shame nibbles on his stomach for cumming so fast when he can't smell a lot of arousal on you, his wolf growling at him to show you how good he can be.
You jump when his hand slides down to grip your crotch roughly, his pupils dilating at the way a small moan slips past your lips. "Lemme make it up fer ye yeah?"
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acapelladitty · 7 days
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Smoke Them All
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Pairing: Cooper Howard/F!Reader
Fic Masterlist
Link to AO3
Summary: Not content with the litany of bruises and bite marks which he has littered across your skin, Cooper decides on something a little more permanent. (2.2k words)
(tw for: spanking, rough play, branding, fingering, orgasm, pain kink, dom/sub dynamics, subspace, allusions to cannibalism, cum eating, mild aftercare)
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You hear the swish of his hand as it arcs through the air a split moment before the connecting smack rings out loudly and fresh fire flares in your unprotected ass.
"That's eight, little killer." Cooper muses as his open palm comes to settle against your skin, the flesh feeling raw and heated due to his vicious strikes, and his fingers trace the unseen outlines of his hand prints as they litter your ass. "You're almost warmed up for the main event."
Anxiety laced with a wicked arousal floods your groin, your cunt feeling slippery and neglected as you consider the small metal brand which sits in the nearby fire - the end balanced where the fire was at it hottest to ensure a clean imprint.
The brand had been his idea, a casual and sleazy comment given life by your own curiosity, but the spanking was just an added boon and Cooper was never one to deny himself the chance to dole out a little bit of good ol' fashioned discipline when the mood suited him.
So here you were, braced over his lap as the evening moon shone high in the sky. The surrounding area was dead of life, raiders and monsters having been long snuffed out, and any potential new onlookers had been provided their chance to scarper at the presence of the infamous ghoul. It was luck that the night air wasn't too chilled, not that it would have made a difference to either of you as you set about your combined goal.
The first few strikes had been pretty manageable as Cooper targeted different parts of your ass, quickly and efficiently trying to cover and redden up as much skin as possible while his other hand pinned your lower back to his knees. His tattered jacket flared out from behind him, the ratty ends touching the ground just beside your own fingers as you pressed them against the ground to keep balance.
Cooper, however, hadn't been as impressed with your easy management of his punishment.
C'mon now, little songbird, I want to hear that lovely voice.
And his efforts had quickly doubled as he brought his hand down with much more violence, the next two strikes coming in rapid succession as they glanced off the fullest part of your ass and stole the breath from your lungs. It was like being struck by metal. Hard. Unforgiving. And so fucking good.
He got the reaction he wanted as your playful groans dissolved into pathetic squeals when his fingers groped at the stinging flesh, your knees pulling together as you smeared the growing wetness that was developing between your thighs. The following hits were much the same, his accurate hand having targeted the same patch of skin until you could feel the heat buzzing free of the abused flesh as small whimpers stole from your throat freely.
"You're lucky I ain't using my belt, darling." Cooper growls as he disrupts your thoughts, tugging at your hair to force your head back enough to gaze up at him. "Cause the welts that leaves would paint you purple for a week and give you a harsh reminder of it every time that fine ass wanted to sit down anywhere."
"Yes, sir." Fumbling over the words, your fingers scratch against the dirt of the ground as your cunt feels swollen and painfully abandoned. You swear you could feel yourself dripping with mess but since he hadn't commented on it yet, maybe not.
"Might even use the buckle." Your scalp burns from his rough grasp and the extension of your neck makes breathing difficult as he continues. "Let it tear strips off you until you're a sobbing mess just crying out and begging for me to let up on you. You want that?"
Rubbing your thighs together at the open threat, you gasp and whine under his grip. From this position, you are barely able to make out his expression as your vision is also limited by the unshed tears which gather in your eyes, vision blurring due to the pain and frustration.
"N-no, sir."
"Good answer, darlin', cause i don't want to delay the next part any longer than we need to. You think you're ready for it?"
His hand releases your head and you nod frantically as fear lances your heart. A little masochism was fine by you, hot as fuck actually as it made the pleasure all the sweeter, but the brand would hurt like hell. Your heart beating a messy tune in your chest, your breath stutters as you feel him leaning over you to snatch up the brand from the fire.
"You gonna lie there like a good girl while I fix and mark you up? Hmm?" Cooper asked, his hand spreading your ass as textured fingers roll over the area he intends to mark on your right ass cheek. "I've got the rope ready to go if you can't hold still and let me make a clean print."
"Do it, Cooper." You gasp out, body shaking with anticipation as your eyes squeeze shut, preparing for the hurt to come as your hands visibly shake against the dusty ground. "Make me yours. Only yours. Make it so that everyone in the wastelands can see who the fuck they're messing with if they mess with me."
"Language." Tutting his disapproval with a playful hypocrisy, the rough excitement in his voice speaks of just how eager he was for you to have this mark. Well, that and the way that his cock remains pressing between you, the rock-hard length digging into your stomach with every slight movement as he speaks again.
"After this you're mine. Anyone else touches you then I take their throat. No mercy."
"No mercy." You repeat, almost a hypnotic babble as your breathing grows more and more erratic and anxious.
"I don't claim much in the wastelands, darlin', so you be good to me and I'll make sure that you never get the chance to forget what it means, you hear?"
"Goddamn, Cooper. Just do it! Mark me, brand me, give me something. Just- FUCK!"
It was nothing compared to the previous spanking.
The pain is indescribable as the metal presses harshly against your skin, searing his initials into the reddened flesh of your ass. You bury your scream in your forearm, tasting blood as your teeth clamp together roughly around your own flesh, and it's only his hand - hard as steel and twice as unforgiving - which prevents you from bucking in place to avoid the horrid pain.
Darkness dances in your vision for a moment as a genuine fear that you're going to pass out clenches your heart but it sweeps through rapidly, leaving you teetering on the edge of consciousness for only a few seconds.
You don't feel the brand pull free as the metal essentially kills off your nerve endings, the damage welcome as it dulls the initial shock. Rather, the initial sear is quick to settle into a vicious pain which is more like a deep, heated ache that sits beneath your skin.
"Cooper." You howl, fingers scrambling against his closet leg as you desperately seek something to cling onto as a wave of nausea rolls through your stomach. "Hurts."
Violently sobbing at the residual ache, you remain pinned in place as his free hand audibly drops the brand to the sandy floor before his fingers return to your ass. You can't feel him ghosting his digits along the wound but you're fairly certain that's what he's doing as a rumble of approval slips free of his chest.
"I know it hurts like a motherfucker." Cooper exhales, his roughened voice holding a giddiness as he watches you struggle to keep control of yourself. "But you did so well, girlie. Took it better than most would and I think that deserves a reward."
His fingers follow the curve of your ass to drop and press insistently at your hole - two digits sinking deep as they quickly provide a little relief to the aching neglect which your cunt was experiencing.
Audibly delighted with his markings, Cooper's tone is as predatory as ever as he slowly pumps his fingers into your cunt - following a pattern he knows drives you wild as he continues.
"Smells good too. Ain't gonna lie. Wish I'd taken a strip for myself before I burned it away."
Shivering at that, you moan out something that may have been an encouragement or a denial - your brain too fuzzy to make sense of it as his textured fingers rub along your walls.
"Coop-Cooper." You stutter out his name, sharp breaths feeling hot in your lungs as the adrenaline flushing through your veins - made all the worse by the dual sensations of dull pain and growing pleasure which wracked your lower half - causes a light-headedness which leaves you slack against his knees. "Touch me more. Make the pain go away."
"Can't make it go away, sweetheart. But I can make you forget about it for a minute or two."
With two fingers still curled within you, his thumb slides up your slickened folds until it grazes your clit. Body tensing, you sigh and groan as he teases the sensitive nub by gently circling his thumb across it. It didn't help that the leathered skin was so much rougher than a typical man's and the added sensation of it was enough to make you forget the burn of your ass as you focus on it.
His fingers are skilled and he is quick to target all those sweet, wicked little spots that make your mouth dry and your soaked cunt clench around his probing digits; that bastard thumb of his never letting up its teasing pressure on your clit as he strokes along the engorged nub with a lazy enjoyment. Adrenaline making every nerve feel heightened, your earlier neglect and enjoyment of his hand bring you close to the edge with an embarrassing speed.
"Such a tight little thing." Cooper grunts, his groin grinding against your stomach lightly as he plays you like a fiddle while taking care not to damage the fresh brand. "Can barely get my fingers out with you gripping at them like this. You'd have thought by now I'd have loosened you up at least a little."
Unable to speak, your reply is a mess of jerking nods and gasping pants. But he seemed to catch the jist of your agreement and it causes a low chuckle to rumble through his body.
Slipping a third finger in, the added stretch was all it took to have your toes curling against the air as the building tension in your body snapped into rolling waves of pleasure. Your cunt clenches around his fingers, pulling them deeper as they continue to rub against your sweet spot, drawing your orgasm out until your limbs felt tight and your throat started to burn from the constant whining and pleas that trickle free of it.
Shuddering and feeling faint, you lay limply against his knees, feet touching the ground as you actively fight the euphoric nausea which makes your body feel light and far off. It was too much and instead of facing the aches and pleasures, you allow the weariness to slip within your very bones.
A lurid suckling noise makes your head turn up to the side and you catch the sight of Cooper pulling his fingers free of his mouth, the digits slickened by both your mess and his spit as he messily cleans them off.
"Sweet as honey. Ain't nothing like it." He mutters, mostly to himself, before tilting his head down to meet your eye. "You alright down there? Not gonna pass out on me are you?"
Sighing out as darkness touches at the edge of your vision, you give him a soft smile - bottom lip only slightly trembling as you answer. "Sleepy."
He's surprisingly careful as he picks you up with his impressive strength, hands wrapping around your upper body to right you to your feet - shaking legs barely able to hold even your limited weight - before he deposits you in his lap. Angling your body atop his so that the pressure of your ass on his lap is far away from the fresh brand, your head presses against his clothed chest and you inhale the coppery scent that clings to him like it was a lifeline.
"Then sleep and I'll keep the beasts at bay."
Cooper speaks lowly, the words washing over you skin like a soothing blanket. "Here." His hands wrap the edges of his leather jacket around your sides, the material not enough to cover you completely - not even close - but you appreciate the gesture regardless.
In the warm night air, your thighs coated in the mess of your release and your ass throbbing will a dull ache that was going nowhere any time soon, you focus on the interesting sounds which roll through Cooper's chest as you press your ear against his frayed shirt and allow fatigue to finally claim you.
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sidekick-hero · 10 days
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(steddie | explicit | 7.1k | tags: Modern AU, Sex Worker Steve, Virgin Eddie, PWP, Sub Eddie/Soft Dom Steve | written for @subeddieweek | AO3 or complete fic under the cut)
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As Steve waited in an impersonal hotel room for his new client to arrive, things began to feel a little off.
In truth, the term "client" there was somewhat unconventional. Three guys had hired him to surprise their friend Eddie on his birthday.
Just moments ago, Steve had received a text message from the guys telling him that they were about to bring Eddie to this very room under the guise of getting his present. What Eddie didn't know was that Steve was going to be that present.
One of the trio, a younger man named Garrett or Gareth, had only half-jokingly suggested that Steve should greet Eddie wearing nothing but a bow around his dick. Thankfully, the others had vetoed the idea, calling it cheesy and lame and saying it would only scare Eddie off. Steve couldn't help but feel a little offended by that because the last time his dick had frightened someone away had been in high school. He had been her first and she had been too intimidated by his size. Other than that, he had never had any complaints, thank you very much.
He hadn't talked to them directly when they had asked for his services; that was Robin's domain. She handled the initial negotiations, background checks, and vetting of potential clients before Steve even learned of their existence. Trusting Robin's judgment, he assumed these men were legitimate. Yet, there was something off about the whole situation.
Their lack of experience with this kind of thing was evident, demonstrated by their inquiry about kissing etiquette like this was Pretty Woman ("you have to tell Eddie if kissing is not okay dude") and their less-than-tactful remarks. When Steve had entered the hotel room, one of them, whom they had referred to as Freak, had made a comment about Steve certainly not being Eddie’s type, prompting Garrett/Gareth to reply "Nah, he secretly likes those pretty frat boy types, he'd just never admit it".
But it had been the quiet, earnest demeanor of Jeff, the third man, that had given Steve pause. Jeff had pulled him aside with a solemn plea to be careful with Eddie.
"Hey, man, you seem like a nice guy, and your manager Robin assured us that you'd take good care of Eddie. Just. Be gentle with him. He acts tough sometimes, but he deserves someone to be sweet to him, okay?"
Steve had just nodded dumbly, thrown by the unusual request. Most of the time his clients booked him directly, and while some had asked him to fuck them soft and slow, Jeff's request had sounded different to him. As if there was something they weren’t telling him about this Eddie.
Perhaps the guy had been hurt before, scarred by a past relationship, and now he approached any kind of intimacy with trepidation. Steve had had a few women hire him to help them get over something like that, so it wasn’t totally unheard of. No men had, but then again, he had only been offering his services to men for a few months, so maybe Eddie was just the first of his male clients with these kind of issues.
If Eddie was indeed struggling with past hurts, then Steve was determined to make him feel cherished and desired once again.
Lost in his thoughts, he almost missed the sound of voices growing louder outside.
Fuck, Steve thought startled. Even though he had been waiting for them, it still came as a surprise that they were already there. One for which he felt completely unprepared, because it was only then that he began to think about how to position himself.
"I don't know why you couldn't just give it to me later or tomorrow, guys," someone said with amusement just outside the door. That must have been Eddie, he thought, and found that he liked his voice.
The next voice was Garrett/Gareth's. "Believe us, Eds, you want it now. Come on, hurry up."
"Okay, okay, fine. Since when are you more excited about me getting presents than I am?"
Steve opted for simplicity and decided to sit on the bed, leaning back with his hands behind him. It was casual and easy, but also showed off the long line of his body.
The sound of someone inserting their key card into the slot was followed by the handle being pushed down. Then the door to the room opened, revealing the lucky guy who would have him for the next two hours.
He’s pretty, was the first thing that came to Steve’s mind. Tall and slender, with a small waist and very nice arms decorated in black ink. Most stunning, however, was his face. The pale skin was a tantalizing contrast to his pink lips, dark hair framing high cheekbones and deep brown eyes that looked at him like a deer in the headlights.
Then, the door closed with a bang.
“Guys? There’s some dude sitting on my bed, you might wanna call security. I’ll hold down the door but you gotta hurry.” Eddie’s voice trembled slightly and Steve was torn between worry and amusement.
Faintly he heard the other men laughing and Eddie's indignant squeak. "What the hell are you laughing at? There`s a crazy stalker in my room! Probably armed and dangerous!"
"Oh yeah, I bet he has a big gun," Garrett/Gareth snorted, and Steve rolled his eyes at the very obvious, very bad joke. The guy probably thought he was really funny.
Eddie seemed to agree with Steve, even if unknowingly. "Har-bloody-har. Jeff, c'mon, tell me you at least take this seriously!"
This was one of those nights when Steve wished he had been smart enough, or at least ambitious enough to go to college, so he wouldn't have had to make money on the side dealing with shit like this. At least most of his clients were easier to deal with, if not as easy on the eyes as this Eddie.
"Eddie, trust me, you can open the door. He's harmless."
"How do you know?"
"Because he's your birthday present!" Freak interrupted, clearly losing patience. "Gareth's right, we should have just made him put a bow on his dick and be done with it. At least then we wouldn't be standing here arguing."
Steve wondered if they knew he could hear every word they were saying. Like everyone else in the surrounding rooms, because they weren’t exactly quiet. He just hoped nobody called the cops.
"He's... What the fuck? You can't just give someone a person, that's human trafficking!"
Obviously tired of making a scene outside a hotel room, Jeff just opened the door and pulled Eddie inside, trusting the others to follow. They did, closing the door behind them, and then they all looked at Steve, who was still sitting on the bed, regretting all his life choices that had led him there.
He gave a little wave with his fingers. "Surprise."
Eddie blinked at him, speechless, his mouth slightly ajar. Despite the situation, he remained unfairly attractive, his wide eyes stirring something in Steve that he hesitated to explore further. Steve's knowledge of Eddie was limited to his questionable choice of friends, yet he felt an inexplicable urge to shield him from the world, to keep him safe. The urge was unexpected in itself, but even more so in the intensity with which it hit him.
"This is Steve," Gareth introduced, stumbling over his words. "And, uh, well, he... yeah. Guys?" Gareth glanced around, hoping for support from the others, but they remained silent.
With the air of someone who didn’t expect any different, Steve rose from his spot on the bed and approached Eddie. As he stood before him, Steve was enveloped in a mixture of clean body spray, shampoo, and a faint whiff of cigarette smoke. Eddie's eyes, even larger up close, held a warm hue that was quite captivating.
Steve flashed a smile, aiming for a blend of reassurance and flirtation.
"I'm Steve, and for the next two hours, I can be whatever you need," he declared, though technically, twenty minutes had already elapsed. Nevertheless, for Eddie, Steve was willing to make an exception.
Eddie, inexplicably, horrifyingly, burst out laughing before slapping a hand over his own mouth, his eyes even wider than before as they looked at Steve in abject horror.
"Oh my God, I am so sorry. I wasn't laughing at you, it's just this whole situation is so... and then that sounded like... I feel like I stumbled into a porn plot."
Eddie looked embarrassed by his reaction, but Steve had to agree. It all felt a little ridiculous all of a sudden and he thought he could use that to his advantage, to make Eddie feel more comfortable.
"I guess you're not wrong," Steve laughed playfully, rubbing a hand across his neck. "That was a line that could have come out of a bad porno. Let me try again." He took Eddie's hand in his own and gave him a smile, a real one this time. "Hi, I'm Steve, and your friends hired me to be your birthday present. What that means is that I'm here to make sure you have a good time, a great one even. Just tell me what you'd like to do, as long as it's nothing crazy, I'm in. I don't do pain play, nothing that leaves bruises or cuts, no breath play, no hard kink of any kind and no barebacking."
"Oh my God, you are here as a sex gift," Eddie exclaimed way too loudly as Steve finished listing the things he wouldn't do, turning even paler. Steve was so focused on Eddie that he hadn’t even noticed the other men leaving the room, but upon seeing Eddie's shocked reaction, he realized they were already gone.
"I can't believe they hired a sex worker to deflower me. I told them to leave it the fuck alone. God, this is so fucking embarrassing," Eddie whined, burying his face in his hands with a long and anguished groan.
It tugged at Steve's heartstrings, the way Eddie pulled away from him, clearly embarrassed. His first instinct was to pull him into his arms and tell him it was okay, that Steve got him. But Eddie's words continued to ring in his ears as the puzzle pieces began to fall into place. Deflower me. As in, he was supposed to take Eddie's virginity. That's why the others had been so weird about it, and why Eddie had been so shocked and clueless when he found him in his room.
Jeff's words came back to him, "be gentle with him" and "he deserves someone to be sweet to him". It wasn't that Eddie was necessarily recovering from past hurts, but that there were no past experiences. Or maybe there had been, and that was why he had never gone all the way. Because looking at him, Steve had a hard time understanding how anyone could not want to sleep with Eddie.
"Eddie," Steve tried gently, "are you...have you ever had sex with anyone?"
Peering at Steve through his fingers, Eddie shook his head.
"Did you, I mean, have you done things like handjobs, blowjobs, anything like that?"
Another anguished groan as Eddie shook his head again.
"Making out? Kissing?" Steve had to know what he was working with here, because the last thing he wanted was to do something Eddie wasn't ready for.
This at least made Eddie lower his hands so that Steve could see the expression on his face. He looked even more embarrassed, his flushed cheeks red, but there was some indignation in his eyes. "I've kissed before. And made out with someone. Well, above the waist. And fully clothed. But it still counts!"
Eddie's voice sounded almost pleading and it left Steve aching for him. He had no idea why someone as gorgeous as Eddie hadn't had sex yet, but he knew he shouldn't act like there was something wrong with him because of it.
"Hey, man, it's okay. Really, I'm not judging you," Steve tried to reassure him. He was tempted to reach out and offer some physical comfort as well, but he wasn't sure how welcome that would be as Eddie laughed bitterly at his words.
"Oh, please. I'm judging me! I'm turning 30 today and no one's even touched my dick. I'm pathetic."
Steve did reach out to him then, placing a comforting hand on Eddie's shoulder. "Hey, come on now. There's nothing pathetic about it. Everyone's journey is different, and there's no rush."
Eddie sighed, his shoulders slumping under Steve's touch. "Easy for you to say. You've probably had more action than you can count."
Steve chuckled softly. "Maybe, but that doesn’t mean anything. Quality over quantity, right?"
Eddie gave him a weak smile, but the tension in his expression remained. "I just feel like I missed out on something, you know? I grew up in a small and even more small-minded town in Indiana where it was impossible to find another gay kid without risking getting beaten up or worse. They had it out for me anyway because...well, it doesn't matter. By the time I finally left and moved to Chicago, I was 21 and hadn't even kissed anyone except Lisa Green in eighth grade, which only confirmed what I already suspected. I made out with a few guys in clubs and bars here, but it always felt... wrong. I didn't need to be romanced or anything, but I just... I wanted to feel some kind of connection, y'know? But anyone who wanted to date me, I was too scared to tell them that I had no experience whatsoever, too in my head about it. And before I know it, I'm 30 years old and my friends are hiring an incredibly hot guy to pity-fuck me."
Steve nodded sympathetically. "It's not a pity fuck, Eddie. But I get it. Just, believe me, sex isn't everything. And it's definitely not a measure of your worth."
Eddie let out a bitter laugh. "Tell that to my libido."
Steve couldn't help but laugh along with him. "Fair point. But seriously, Eddie, there's nothing wrong with taking your time. When the right moment comes along, you'll know.”
With an expression of utter defeat, Eddie mumbled. “Figured not even someone getting paid for it would want to sleep with me.” Then, he turned around and walked over to the door. “I’m sorry I wasted your time, Steve. Thank you for being so nice.”
“Whoa, wait a second. I never said I don’t wanna sleep with you. I just assumed, y’know, that you’d want to wait for the right guy.”
Eddie looked like a kicked puppy. “It’s fine Steve, I understand. There’s nothing sexy about a 30 year old virgin, you don’t have to lie.” Then, hanging his head, he pulled his shoulders up to his ears and put his hands in his pockets, making himself as small as humanly possible while still standing.
Steve couldn't stand to see Eddie so down on himself any longer, so he decided to show him exactly how much he wanted to sleep with him by simply pulling his shirt over his head, leaving him naked from the waist up. Then he reached down, unzipped his pants and stepped out of them as well, so that he was standing in front of Eddie in nothing but his underwear. He hoped to make himself at least a quarter as vulnerable as Eddie must have felt at that moment.
"Eddie, please look at me." When Eddie did, his eyes roamed over Steve's body as if he couldn't help himself, and Steve felt their gaze like a physical touch. He was accustomed to people looking at him with hunger and desire, and while Eddie's face showed signs of both, there was something else in his expression—a hint of longing, if Steve were pressed to put a name to it.
As the seconds ticked by, Steve wondered if Eddie would ever grow tired of drinking him in, since he showed no signs of being done anytime soon. But Steve began to suspect that maybe Eddie wasn't doing anything else because he didn't know what or how, so Steve had to take the lead here.
Closing the distance between them, he took Eddie's hands again, but this time he didn't hold them; he placed them on his hips. "You can touch me, Eddie. I want you to. I want you. So if you want me too, all you have to do is tell me." When Eddie continued to look at him wide-eyed, Steve asked him in his softest, most encouraging voice, "What do you want, Eddie?"
"I don't know." Eddie's hands on his hips trembled slightly, but his grip tightened, thumbs running up and down Steve's flanks. "You. Whatever you want."
Well, that was easy. "I want to make you feel good. Can I?"
"Please."
No one had ever looked at Steve the way Eddie did at that moment. It was as if Steve was the last drop of water in the desert—not like he wanted Steve, but like he needed him.
Steve cupped his face in his hands and pulled him close, whispering in the infinitesimal space between them, "I got you, baby," before sealing their lips in a tender kiss.
True to his words, Eddie kissed him back as if he had kissed people before, even if not very often. His lips still moved a little awkwardly against Steve's, but what he lacked in experience he made up for in feeling. Not even his actual girlfriends had ever kissed him the way Eddie was kissing him right now - like he couldn't believe he was allowed to do it, wavering between greedy hunger and grateful adoration that made Steve's head spin.
As they kissed, Steve felt a rush of warmth flood through him, a sensation he hadn't experienced in a long time. It was more than just physical attraction; there were the first stirrings of an emotional connection forming between them, one that felt utterly inappropriate within the confines of their current situation.
On the other hand, Steve reasoned with himself, Eddie deserved someone who would be sweet to him, as Jeff had put it. Given how he was starting to feel about Eddie, that wasn't going to be a challenge at all.
Breaking the kiss reluctantly, Steve rested his forehead against Eddie's, their breaths mingling in the space between them. "You're amazing, Eddie," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Eddie's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink and he smiled shyly. "Thank you. You're not so bad yourself."
Steve chuckled softly, a warmth spreading in his chest at Eddie's response. "What do you say we take this to the bed?"
Eddie nodded eagerly, his eyes shining with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. "Yeah, I'd like that."
"Good," Steve said, taking Eddie by the hips as well and beginning to slowly walk them backwards, their eyes never leaving each other's.
As they made their way to the bed, Steve's heart pounded with anticipation. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was a pivotal moment, one that could change everything for him.
Once they reached the bed, Steve gently guided Eddie to sit down, their knees touching as they faced each other. The air between them crackled with tension, charged with the promise of what was to come.
Steve took Eddie's hands in his own, his touch gentle yet firm. "Eddie, I want you to know that we don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with," he said softly, wanting to reassure him.
Eddie met his gaze with a mixture of gratitude and desire. "I trust you, Steve," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity. Steve had no idea how Eddie could trust him so easily after just meeting him, but he vowed to do right by him and not betray the trust placed in him.
With a gentle smile, Steve leaned in to kiss Eddie again, his lips meeting Eddie's with a tender urgency. This time Steve took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue into the wet heat of Eddie's mouth, gently coaxing Eddie to join him in exploring each other.
The first tentative touch of Eddie's tongue to his own sent sparks of electricity through him and he would have been embarrassed by the moan that fell from his lips had it not been for the almost violent shudder that went through Eddie at the simple touch. When their lips parted, Steve glanced at the other man and found him looking tense, his hands clenched into fists on his thighs, and suddenly his reaction made sense.
"Baby, you can touch me. Don't hold back, I want you to show me how good I make you feel."
Closing his eyes with a pained expression, Eddie sighed deeply, defeated. "I feel like I don't know how. I don't want to mess it up. I mean, you must be used to incredible sex and then there's me, probably accidentally pinching you or something."
"Eddie," Steve said, wrapping his own hands around Eddie's clenched ones, "I'm sorry to break it to you, but you'll never learn if you don't try. It's like riding a bike. You can't learn it in theory, you have to get on it and ride it." And because Steve worried that might have been a little harsh, he added: "I'm your training wheels, and after tonight you can upgrade to a bike without them." Uncurling Eddie's hands and intertwining their fingers, Steve nudged their shoulders together. "Soooo. Wanna go for a ride?"
Eddie's lips twitched into a small smile at Steve's analogy, and some of the tension seemed to ease from his shoulders. "Okay, maybe I can give it a try," he said, his voice uncertain but determined.
Steve couldn't help but admire Eddie's bravery in the face of his own insecurities. He leaned in to press a gentle kiss against Eddie's forehead, offering silent encouragement.
With a deep breath, Eddie tentatively began to explore Steve's body, his touch hesitant yet eager. Steve guided him with soft murmurs of encouragement, reassuring him every step of the way.
At some point, Steve shifted back onto the bed and lay down on the sheets, offering more of himself to Eddie's curious hands. They were especially drawn to his chest, scratching the thick hair, and when Steve made an appreciative sound, Eddie let them wander to Steve's nipples.
"Start slow, run your thumb over them." Eddie did as Steve told him, and Steve noticed how every encouragement from him seemed to hit Eddie with another wave of arousal. His eyes darkened even more after Steve told him, "Just like that, baby. You're doing so good, learning so fast. Now try adding some spit so your thumb glides easier."
Eddie had been eagerly and obediently following his instructions the whole time, so Steve wasn't surprised when he immediately went to put Steve's latest order into action. What he didn't expect, however, was that Eddie would simply put his mouth on his nipple instead of wetting his thumb with it.
"Fuck," he moaned, his hands digging into Eddie's hair without his conscious decision, desperately trying to keep his mouth on his chest. "So good for me, such a good boy, just like that."
His words only spurred Eddie on, who moaned needily at his words, and as his confidence grew, so did his boldness. Steve felt the first tentative touch of teeth against his skin, setting his nerves on fire, and he encouraged Eddie to keep going by tugging at his curls. "Harder, baby."
Being the wonderful, beautiful, good boy that he was, Eddie went harder, his teeth making sure to leave marks on his chest. It was an intoxicating feeling to be laid out here, almost naked, while Eddie was still fully clothed, and yet it was Steve who was in control.
So far he had been able to ignore his cock, hard and heavy and leaking into his trunks. But it was getting harder and harder, pun intended, to keep his need for relief in check. It wasn't often that a client made him feel like he was about to lose his mind with lust, but Eddie was shaping up to be his exception in so many ways.
"Baby, you're incredible. I'm so hard for you, I need you to touch me or I'll lose my goddamn mind."
That finally gave Eddie pause. Pulling back from his mission to cover every inch of Steve's chest in bruises and bite marks, he lifted his head and looked down at where Steve's hard cock was obscenely tenting his trunks.
Watching Eddie wet his lips with his tongue, Steve decided to take a chance. "Can you take them off for me, darling? They're getting awfully uncomfortable."
That startled Eddie out of his silent reverie, his big brown eyes, which had captivated Steve from the start, turning to him. "You mean..."
"Only if you want to. We're not doing anything you're not ready for," Steve made sure to reassure him once again that while Steve was taking the lead here, Eddie was the one calling the shots. If he told him to stop, Steve would, no questions asked. "But if you're afraid of getting it wrong, I want you to know that nothing has ever felt as right as your hands and mouth on me. You couldn't get it wrong if you tried, baby."
It seemed to be just the right thing to say because Eddie leaned down to capture Steve's lips in another kiss, his weight balanced on his forearm next to Steve's head. His hand, still resting on Steve's chest, began to move again, fingertips dancing across his ribs and down his stomach until they reached their destination just above his waistband.
Eddie had moved to lie more comfortably next to Steve when he had let his hands and mouth map Steve's body, but now he positioned himself next to Steve's knees.
He looked up at Steve as his fingers curled around the waistband of his trunks, and tougher men than Steve would have had a hard time not falling in love with him right then and there. His lips, still slick with spit from their kiss, were slightly parted while his bottomless eyes looked at Steve with something akin to worship. Steve's fingers had done a great job of making his dark curls look even messier, and he was almost as proud of that as he was of the red flush that adorned Eddie's throat and cheeks.
"Do it," he order-pleaded, and Eddie listened as he had all night, pulling down Steve’s last piece of clothing and throwing it on the floor next to the bed.
The expression on his face was almost comical, breaking the thick tension in the room for a moment. Steve knew he wasn't exactly small. Not even average, but it had been a while since anyone had stared at his dick like it was a venomous snake.
"It won't bite you, I promise," he joked as the silence between them stretched on.
That at least got a snort out of Eddie, even if his eyes were still glued to his hard and leaking cock, which didn't seem to mind being stared at with a mixture of apprehension and wonder.
"I know that. It's just..." Eddie began before trailing off.
A thought occurred to Steve. "You've seen a dick before, right?"
In retrospect it might have been a bit insulting and a lot stupid to ask, but then again this wasn't exactly his area of expertise.
"Yes, Steve. Besides my own, I've seen dicks. Just not... y'know... a monster dick like that. I mean, fuck. Are you sure this thing will even fit?"
His first reaction was to laugh, because Eddie was funny and adorable in his incredulity, but the laughter died rather quickly as the rest of his words registered with Steve.
"Fit? As in - do you want me to fuck you?"
That finally made Eddie blink up at him, tilting his head like a confused puppy. "Um, yeah? I thought that was the plan all along."
It wasn't. Steve thought he'd show Eddie the ropes, how to handle another body, so he could experience his first time with someone he genuinely cared about. Not that Steve had that when he lost his virginity, but he thought Eddie deserved it.
But if Eddie was sure, Steve was more than happy to oblige. "Just checking in. And don't worry. It'll fit. It always has, it just takes a little patience and a lot of lube." When Eddie still looked a little doubtful, he added, "Do you trust me?"
"Yes." No hesitation, and that made the dangerous feeling in his chest glow brighter.
"Good, that makes it even easier. You need to be comfortable, relaxed. The more you can let go, the easier it will be."
Eddie nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "Okay, Steve. You're the expert. I trust you. Just. Remember, I have no idea what I'm doing, okay?"
Steve sat up and cupped Eddie's cheek in his hand. "I know, and I'll take good care of you, I promise," Steve promised, sealing it with a kiss.
After they parted, he tugged at Eddie's shirt. "You're awfully overdressed, sweetheart. Mind if I help you get out of these?"
With Eddie's consent, Steve undresses him, slowly, reverently. He removed each piece of clothing with the same care as he would handle a precious gem, his hands gentle, making sure to appreciate every inch of skin that was revealed to him. And after his hands have had their fill, his mouth follows, his lips branding his ownership in invisible writing all over Eddie's body.
He paid special attention to Eddie's tattoos, and when he found the nipple piercings, Steve's brain short-circuited. He only stopped playing with them when Eddie was writhing and whimpering from the stimulation, his arousal clear in the way sweat slicked his skin and the outline of his hard cock was visible through his skin-tight jeans.
"Steve, please," he begged, and Steve was pretty sure Eddie didn't even know for what.
"Shh, I got you, baby," Steve had cooed in reply before continuing his mission to get Eddie naked and under him.
Soon the positions were reversed and Eddie was spread out on the bed, naked and wanting, while Steve was kneeling beside him, his hand stroking Eddie's thigh soothingly as he drank him in.
"Fuck, Eddie, I wish you could see yourself right now. You're so fucking beautiful, the prettiest thing I've ever seen. I can't believe you let me have you."
Eddie squirmed, clearly turned on but still self-conscious. Steve vowed to make the latter go away and replace it with nothing but mindless pleasure, helping Eddie let go and float on all the good feelings Steve would make him feel.
He had gotten the lube and a condom out of his bag while Eddie had made himself comfortable, placing them both next to them on the bed. Now he spread some lube on his fingers and warmed it up as he moved to climb between Eddie's legs. His own cock had gone back to half hard, but showed some renewed interest when Eddie immediately spread his legs wider to make room for him.
"Such a good boy, you're just perfect, you know that?"
Then Steve rewarded his good boy with the first finger in his virgin whole. He didn't want it to matter, and it didn't, not in the way Eddie thought it would. But the thought that he was the first to see Eddie like that, to feel him clench around the foreign intrusion before slowly, gradually relaxing as Steve continued to stroke the inside of his thigh with his other hand? It all made more heat pool in his groin, his cock full and heavy again between his own legs.
"That's it," Steve encouraged him as his finger sank in to his knuckle, " taking it so well. How does it feel, baby?"
"Weird," Eddie said truthfully, before wriggling his hips. "Full. Not bad, just. Weird."
Steve took that as all the encouragement he needed to start pumping the finger in and out in imitation of what he planned to do to Eddie with his cock. It went easily and soon Eddie was matching his thrusts with his hips. "That's right, take what you need. You look so good fucking yourself on my finger, sweetheart. You'll look even better on my cock."
Judging that Eddie was ready for a second finger, he leaned forward and softly called for Eddie to look at him. When he did, lifting his head from where he had pressed it into the pillow, Steve caught his eyes and held them as he slowly closed his lips around Eddie's hard cock, taking it into his mouth inch by delicious inch.
It worked like a charm as Eddie was too busy throwing his head back with a broken moan to even notice Steve adding another finger. It was only when he started pumping both fingers in and out while still licking and sucking on Eddie's cock like his favorite ice cream that Eddie seemed to notice, tightening around him for a moment before relaxing again.
Steve rewarded him with a clever swirl of his tongue and a well-aimed crook of his fingers that made Eddie scream.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, what the fuck was that," Eddie gasped as Steve pulled off of him with an obscenely wet sound.
With a third finger prodding at Eddie's slick hole, Steve grinned up at him. "Your prostate."
"I thought that was a myth."
"Nope, not a myth. Just hard to reach by yourself."
He took Eddie back into his mouth, his finger persistently nudging at his entrance until it finally slipped in alongside his other two fingers. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Eddie balling the sheets in his clenched fists, trying not to thrash around too much. The thought of feeling that around his cock was almost too much, as Eddie was incredibly responsive and Steve had to think of something unpleasant for a second to calm himself.
Steve continued to blow and finger Eddie until he could feel Eddie's cock hardening even more in his mouth, signaling his impending orgasm. His three fingers sank into him like a warm knife into butter, no resistance whatsoever, so Steve considered Eddie ready to try and take his 'monster dick' as he had so eloquently put it earlier.
Eddie's whimper as he pulled his fingers out of his body sounded desperate, and when Steve also pulled off his dick, Eddie was right back to begging.
"Please, Steve, I was so close, so fucking close, I need you, please," he babbled, exactly in that mindless place where only his own pleasure mattered instead of his own insecurities.
In a true display of multi-tasking, Steve managed to stroke Eddie's thigh soothingly while simultaneously ripping the condom wrapper open with his teeth. It was almost a shame that Eddie was so far gone that he didn't even notice.
Next time, Steve thought, immediately chastising himself for getting ahead of himself. There was no guarantee that Eddie would want to go out with the guy his friends had paid to deflower him.
"Shh, baby, almost there, just getting ready to make you feel really good. I can't wait to be inside you, Eddie, you have no idea."
Slicking his condom-covered cock, Steve took a pillow from the bed and placed it under Eddie's hips before wrapping Eddie's right leg around his waist as he positioned himself. Eddie looked up at him with dazed eyes, like he was still floating somewhere, not quite here. And even though Steve wanted him to remain there, he needed Eddie's attention right now.
"Sweetheart, I need you to listen to me, can you do that?" He could tell it was a struggle, but shaking his head like he was clearing cowebs, Eddie came back to him. "Thanks, baby, you're still so good for me, aren't you?" Eddie nodded eagerly and Steve continued. "I need you to be a good boy and do what I tell you. When I push in, I need you to press down on it as if you were trying to push me out. Can you try that?" Another nod, this one firm, determined. "And breathe, baby, deep breaths. I got you, we'll take it as slow as you need."
And with that, Steve began to push in, trusting Eddie to work with him. And he did, beautifully, doing exactly what Steve told him to do. Still, it was clear that it was a lot to take, his cock even thicker and longer than his three fingers. It was slow going, every inch fought for, and by the time Steve was halfway in they were both covered in sweat, so Steve decided to take a short break.
Eddie was having none of it, though, and looked up at him pleadingly. "Steve? Please don't stop. I want you inside."
"But I am already inside," Steve reminded him, as if Eddie had forgotten how he was being impaled on Steve's cock right now.
"More." Reaching out for Steve with his hand, Eddie replied with only one word, but it was enough to make Steve fall forward, inadvertently sinking a little further.
He didn't try to stop again.
Then, finally, blessedly, Steve sank all the way in, Eddie's muscles relaxing enough to let him in entirely. It wasn't his first time, far from it, but it could very well have been from the way it made him feel to be enveloped in Eddie's tight heat. Steve couldn't tell who was looking more starry-eyed, Eddie or him, as they stared at each other in wonder.
"You feel," Steve began, suddenly at a loss for words. "Like nothing I've ever felt before."
"Move," Eddie pleaded in reply, his eyes traitorously bright. "Please, Steve."
Steve could never deny him, not when he begged like that, so he simply kissed Eddie's cheek, his nose, and then his lips as his hips withdrew before sinking back in. Picking up a slow and easy rhythm, Steve began to move and soon Eddie was meeting him thrust for thrust.
They moved together in a slow, sensual dance, each touch and caress igniting a fire within them. Each thrust tore another sound from their throats, muffled by each other's lips, because try as he might, he couldn't stop kissing Eddie. And as they lost themselves in the heat of the moment, Steve knew he wouldn't come back from it unchanged. He already felt a sense of connection unlike anything he had ever experienced before. It was as if they were two pieces of a puzzle finally coming together, fitting perfectly.
He just hoped that Eddie felt the same, that it wasn't just the magic of firsts that made him gasp and beg and say things that made Steve's heart soar as much as his cock twitch.
"Steve, Steve, Steve," he cried, his voice cracking, "oh God, I never thought...fuck," another moan as Steve hit his prostate once more. "How do people do anything but this?" Eddie marveled as he tightened around Steve, desperately wanting him to press against that wonderful spot inside him. "I never want to leave this bed again, just let you fuck me all day long."
Oh, how much Steve would love that too. To stop himself from saying something crazy like 'yes, please move in with me so we can fuck as often as possible', he reached for Eddie's hand on his hip and intertwined their fingers next to Eddie's head, squeezing his hand instead of spilling all his messy feelings.
The new position had him sinking further down on Eddie, Eddie's hard cock trapped between their bellies and the added friction had him gasping and panting. "Fuck, Steve, I'm so close."
"Yeah, me too, baby. Can you be a good boy and hold on a little longer for me?"
Unable to form any more words, Eddie just nodded. Steve rewarded him with another deep kiss as his hips picked up speed, his thrusting becoming more powerful as he finally allowed himself to chase his own pleasure. He wanted, needed them to come together, and judging by the copious amount of pre-cum smeared against their bellies and the way Eddie's cock kept twitching, Eddie was really close.
As he felt the telltale signs of his own orgasm spreading through him, his balls tightening and the feeling of a coil in his groin being pulled tight enough to snap at any moment, he lowered his face to Eddie's ear, took the lobe between his teeth and tugged at it to get his attention. Then, putting every ounce of heat, lust and desire he felt right now into his voice, he rasped, "Come for me, baby."
Without a hand on him, Eddie came with a sound that burned itself into Steve's memory and would surely haunt his dreams for weeks and months to come.
Overwhelmed by Eddie's sounds as he lost himself in his own pleasure, his hips bucking and grinding, Steve couldn't help but follow him over the edge. When he finally came, it was almost painful in its intensity and he could barely keep himself upright.
It took him an embarrassingly long time to catch his breath, and even longer to pull himself away from Eddie long enough to get rid of the condom and fetch a washcloth from the bathroom to clean the cum from their bellies and chests.
Then he turned off the light, crawled back into bed with Eddie and pulled the covers over them before drawing Eddie into his arms, who went willingly, still suspiciously quiet. Steve would have been more concerned had it not been for the dazed smile on his face, so he decided to let him be for the moment, basking in the afterglow as he continued to stroke Eddie's back.
What felt like hours later, as they lay tangled in each other's arms, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window, Steve pressed a gentle kiss to Eddie's temple, feeling a surge of affection and contentment wash over him.
"I'm glad you decided to go for that ride," he whispered, warmth coloring his voice.
Eddie snuggled closer, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Me too," he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of happiness and wonder.
And as they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's embrace, Steve knew he had found something truly special in Eddie. Tomorrow he would tell Robin to give the guys their money back because Eddie hadn't been a client from the start. It was way too soon to even think about it, but deep down he hoped that theirs would be the kind of love that was as beautiful and enduring as the stars in the night sky.
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hells-wasabii · 2 months
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A/N: in case it isn’t obvious this is another heavy work, so do with that information as you will. I took a completely different approach to this one than the one with Velvette, I don’t feel that Carmilla would actually act on the information unless it was something you explicitly expressed desire for. I didn’t fully proof read this either so lemme know if I’ve made any mistakes
Character: Carmilla
Type: Fic (Carmilla x fem!reader who had abusive ex, Angst, Fluff)
You had just wanted a cup of coffee. That’s all it had been. Coffee and a muffin during an early morning in hell.
It should have been simple. It was simple. But still, you found yourself tucked into a booth with your face buried in your hands on the verge of a breakdown.
And yet your heart still pounded away in your chest. One moment had been fine, and the next notes of an all too familiar cologne met your nose. You would have recognized that scent anywhere, the notes of pine stinging your nostrils. It was the sort that did little to cover the smell of cigarettes, you remembered. The smell was burned in your mind, embedded in the deepest recesses of your worst memories. Fuck, you hated it.
With each panicked breath that entered your lungs, your fear grew. Screwing your eyes shut you tried to will yourself to calm down. They weren’t here, you tried to remind yourself. You needed something to ground you, anything. And so with shaking hands, you wrapped them around your cup. The heat seeped through the porcelain and into your palms, but even still it wasn’t enough.
All at once, it was like you could hear everything and nothing at all. It felt akin to drowning. And you were alone with no one to save you. It was a fact that only served to unsettle you more. You couldn’t help but wonder, would the other patrons jump to your aid should they make an appearance? Or would they turn a blind eye and whisper amongst themselves just as they did when you lived?
They weren’t here, you tried to remind yourself. They weren’t even in the same city for fucks sake. You’d made damn sure of that when you chose to settle in Pentagram City. Rationally, you knew this, but it did little to settle your nerves. You thought that you had done so well to make progress, but now you weren’t so sure. Had all that work to get away really been for nothing? Maybe you really should have killed the bastard sooner…
You screwed your eyes close tightly, gripping the hot cup even tighter. The cup in your hand burned, but you didn’t care. It helped ground you to reality. This would pass, you told yourself just as you had countless times before. It had to.
But you couldn’t help but half expect them to slide into the booth opposite of you.
Your blood ran cold when you heard the door to the shop open. The thought of potentially getting up from your seat and quickly leaving the cafe sprung to your mind, yet you remained frozen in place.
A soft conversation between three women met your ears, light-hearted. It’s not much but the voices sooth you, even from across the cafe. It wasn’t them.
Once more the noises melded together, a horrible amalgamation that was quickly becoming too much.
A sharp gasp left your lips as you felt a hand rest upon your shoulder. You nearly spilled your coffee as fear flooded your senses. Your head whipped around to find a tall demon with white hair and sharp eyes staring back at you, looking almost as surprised as you felt. You realized that you recognized the woman as she quickly retracted her hand, as though if she weren’t careful she would burn you.
Carmilla Carmine, the biggest name in arms dealing in the pride ring. A powerful overlord whose reach even extended to the other rings. You knew each other, or at least knew of each other.
The overlord's eyes scanned your features, taking only a moment to gather herself before she spoke. “Are you alright?”
You didn’t reply at first, you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. Instead, you nod, shifting under the arms dealer’s gaze. She stood there, silent, as if she were deciding something.
“Girls,” Carmilla called out gently after a moment, and soon two younger women were at her side. Her daughters, you realized. “Go on without me, I believe I’ll stay just a bit longer.”
The overlord’s daughters looked between themselves and then back to their mother. Both of the young women seemed to have a look of understanding when the one in the white coat replied. “We’ll see you at home, mother.” Carmilla watched as they left, setting her drink at the table as she settled into the booth opposite of you.
“Now, would you like to talk about what’s going on?”
Truly, you couldn’t understand it. You had only spoken once, maybe twice before and that had been in the company of others. Why was she doing this? You couldn’t help but wonder if something like this was what you had so desperately wished for when you still breathed. And so you let this woman distract you from your panic.
What followed was a conversation that would change your afterlife. While you didn’t dive into specifics. You expressed your fears, and her, understanding and support.
Eventually, the conversation drifted to other things. The conversations that fell between the two of you felt effortless. She had gotten you to smile, to laugh even. You had felt a rare sense of pride when you had managed a chuckle out of the overlord in return. You weren’t sure you had felt this at ease in a long time.
To be quite honest, you hadn’t even realized how long you sat in that cafe with the overlord until Carmilla’s phone began to buzz, her screen lighting up as a few messages appeared on its screen.
“I’m afraid that’s my cue.” The arms dealer sighed, seeming a touch disappointed as she rose from the booth. Though she took a pause, her eyes locking with yours again a moment. She reached into her pocket, receiving what had appeared to be her receipt from earlier, and quickly jotted something down on the receipt before she folded it neatly. “It seems my daughters are expecting me home for a late lunch.
“Maybe I’ll see you around,“ Carmilla slid the folded receipt in front of you, offering one last gentle smile before she left. And so you watch her go, offering a small ‘yeah,’ though you doubt that she heard.
Once she had exited the cafe it was like you had broken out of a chance. With a shake of your head, you sank back into your seat as you turned your attention to the slip that the overlord had left behind for you. Carefully you took it into your hands.
Your eyes widened as you opened the folded slip, revealing her name and phone number.
‘In case you want to talk more.’
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