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#and they smell like smoke and i cant breathe around them
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came up with the script i wish i could yell at my parents while walking home. they've gotten so much worse in the last half year and i need to fucking escape !!!!!!!! it is not fucking healthy or sustainable to live like this, to be in this environment.
#you would never assume i go to a nice university if you saw the state of where i live#and its entirely bc of them they refuse to make any real purchases like a working oven or groceries they just want cigarettes#and nonsense from amazon and fast food that i cannot eat#the house smells like fucking smokes and trash bc they can't keep the space clean wven after you clean up#the car smells like smokes bc my dad smokes in the fucking car#and they smell like smoke and i cant breathe around them#they take off all the fucking time and leave me and my siblings to take care of ourselves (im the eldest theres children still!!)#they have no interest in my life bc its too much for their attention spans i begged them to read any articles i wrote bc i was so proud#and they just went hmm no i dont want to#they just.... they weren't great parents to begin with but they really did just fucking give up#my dad is absent emotionally and chooses to remain miserable & my mother is a teen sister that hates how her kids are more mature than her#it sucks it just fucking sucks and i need money to leave but its just impossible to save the funds while also funding my existence now#yeah im hating on smokers right now bc that alongside alcohol and gambling are fucking ruining my life and it's not even me doing any of it#I can't even drink and have fun bc i am reminded of my fucking family who get drunk and act horrible#I can't ever pick up a cigarette again either bc its like i just inhale the air in my house and its in me#i just fucking hate it so much their misery is ruining everything for all of us not just them#i dont fucking care if they want to make bad choices but leave your children alone you fucking freaks
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javiscigarette · 9 months
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Ease
Javier Peña x f!reader
Requested:
requesting… daddy!javi comforting u after a stressful work day 👀 pls n thank
warnings: no use of y/n, established relationship, fingering, squirting, spitting, spanking, a bit ass play (I cant resist), dirty talk, daddy!javi obviously, d/s dynamics obviously, extreme overuse of pet names and I'm not sorry, fluffy Javi deserves its own warning
w/c: 5.3k
a/n: the long overdue Javi fic is finally here lmao I wrote this very quickly and I haven't written for him in a long time so it may not be my best but I'm honestly just proud that I finally got something out :)) pls let me know if you like it!! ALSO! I reached 1.5k followers awhile ago which is just mind blowing so I just wanted to say THANK YOU to everyone who has joined me and continues to support me. This blog and all the friends I've made here have helped me through some pretty rough times and I'm forever grateful AHHH I just you all soo much!!
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You’re not there to greet him when he opens the door. Usually you’d have a glass of whiskey in your hand for him, already a little tipsy from the glass you had for yourself earlier.
There’s a unpleasant shiver that runs down his spine as the thought of you being in some sort of danger immediately crosses his mind. But the sound of you puttering around in the kitchen gives you away. That and the haze of smoke and smell of burnt food wafting through the entire apartment. 
He kicks his shoes off and loosens his tie as he rounds the corner to the kitchen to find you standing in front of the stove, tending to what he assumes is some chicken in a pan. The exhaust fan on the range hood and the ceiling fan are working overtime, pushing the smoke out of the kitchen and through the open window. 
“Hi, bebita” Javi says as he enters the smokey kitchen. You don’t say anything in response, just give him a quick sideways glance before turning back to the stove. 
He crosses the room and moves to stand behind you. Maybe if he had seen the frown on your face, or the way your eyebrows are deeply creased in frustration, he would’ve said something very different. 
But he didn’t see. 
“Dinner smells delicious” he teases, squeezing your hips. He’s expecting a little chuckle from you, or at least an annoyed eye roll with a hidden smile. 
So he’s caught very off guard when you slam the spatula down on the counter with a loud, frustrated sigh.
“Well I’m sorry that I tried to make a nice meal. Guess I’m fuckin’ useless at that too.” 
You try to push yourself out of his grasp, but his grip only tightens. 
“Hey okay okay, easy.” Javi soothes, turning you around so you’re facing him. “What’s wrong, bebita?” he asks, his tone immediately switching from teasing to soft and tener.You puff out a heavy sigh, refusing to look up at him and staring at his white shirt stretched across his chest instead. 
All the thoughts about your horrid day at work that you’ve been trying to block out break the damn and come flooding back into your head; your boss telling you that you fucked up two different major tasks and refusing to tell you how to do them correctly, catching your coworkers gossiping about you in the breakroom, your computer dying right before you could save any of the work you had done for the day, and how you tried to come home and cook as a distraction but you clearly forgot about the chicken sitting on the stove and almost caught the house on fire. 
You hadn’t even noticed the tears welling up in your eyes until Javi is wiping away the ones that have brimmed over and slid down your cheeks. 
“Cariño…” Javi whispers, his tone drenched with concern. That’s all it takes. You instantly break down, falling forward into Javi’s chest as your whole body shakes as you sob, your tears wetting the crisp fabric of his shirt. 
You tell him everything in between wet gasps and uneven breaths, unloading everything at once. He just holds you through it, nodding along and giving you an occasional understanding hum while running his palms up and down your back until you finish talking. 
“Your boss is an asshole” is the first thing Javi says. “Your coworkers too” 
You respond with a pathetic sniffle. “I really fucked up though. And now everyone thinks I can’t do my job” 
"Bebita,” Javi starts, continuing to rub soothing circles on your back. “Everyone has tough days at work. It doesn't define your abilities or your worth. You're so much more than a single bad day."
You sniffle again, still leaning heavily against him for support. 
"It's just... I'm tired of feeling like I'm constantly failing."
Javi clicks his tongue and moves one hand to use two fingers to gently tilt your chin up, making you meet his easy gaze. 
"You're not failing, mi amor. Sometimes things don’t go as planned and that’s okay. You're learning and growing."
You wish he wasn’t so right all the time. Sometimes talking back to the false narrative that runs rampant in your head 24/7 is too much work. 
"I know”  you sigh, wiping away tears with the back of your hand. “It’s just hard not to let it get to me."
Javi's thumb brushes against your cheek, his touch gentle and comforting. 
"I understand. Just remember you're not alone in this. I’ll always be here for you, my sweet girl” 
You manage a weak smile, feeling a bit of warmth starting to seep back into your heavy heart. 
“Thank you” you whisper.
Javi smiles warmly, his eyes full of admiration and unwavering support. 
“Of course, baby. I’m here for you always. No matter what.” 
You let your head fall back to his chest and you take a deep breath. He keeps rubbing your back, physically feeling the tension leaving your body as you melt against him. Without your brain in overdrive, you finally register the smell of his faded cologne and his cigarettes sticking to his shirt, the scent immediately washing away more of the tension in your muscles. The warm feeling in your chest starts to spread all the way down to your toes, your whole body feeling 10 times lighter than it did 5 minutes ago as his embrace brings you a sense of solace you hadn’t experienced all day. 
After another silent minute or two, he places a kiss to your hairline before leaning in close, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. 
“You know, there’s another way to forget about it for a little while.”
His low voice alone already has the base of your spine tingling. You pick your head up to meet his gaze, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. 
“Yeah?” you ask, a weak smile slowly spreading across your face.
“Mhmm” he hums, his hands sliding down to your waist and slipping under the hem of your shirt, his warm fingers splaying over your skin. 
"You've had a tough day," Javi continues, his voice a sensual murmur. "And I think you deserve something to take your mind off all that stress."
His words, laden with suggestion, push all the worries out of your body, replacing it with a thrill that courses through your veins. He leans in until his face is inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. "Let me take care of you, bebita."
All you can do is nod dumbly. Javi grins as he pulls you in closer. His lips capture yours in a slow, tantalizing kiss, his lips soft and warm against yours, the taste of him flooding your senses. His hands slide up from your waist to your rib cage, rucking up your shirt in the process. Every touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, drawing you impossibly closer to him. He pulls away just long enough to pull it over your head before his lips capture yours again. 
He wraps one arm around you, keeping you close as his other hand cups your jaw, his fingers curling around the back of your neck as his thumb mindlessly brushes your cheek. Your hands find their way to his back, fingers tracing the lines of his muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. 
He swipes his tongue across your bottom lip and you part your lips with a soft sigh, his tongue immediately sliding against yours. It’s a dance of desire and vulnerability, an unspoken promise that he’s here to take away all of your worries. The rest of the world quickly fades into a distant blur, leaving just the two of you in this electric connection.
 His lips eventually leave your mouth, his breathless chuckle fanning across your jaw at the sound of your quiet whimper. He trails wet kisses along your jaw, down to the side of your neck, each one accompanied by a soft exhale that causes goosebumps to erupt over every inch of your skin. The sensation is exquisite and maddeningly arousing, and you find yourself tilting your head back, giving him better access. 
His teeth gently graze over your pulse point, sending shiver coursing through your entire body. Your heart races as he finds a spot just below your collarbone, nipping and sucking before soothing the dark spot with his tongue. His hands roam your torso, big, warm palms exploring every inch of exposed skin. You can feel the bulge in his jeans rapidly grow against your hip and your core throbs with a dull ache in response. Everything that happened earlier is miles away as you feel yourself relaxing deeper into his embrace, losing yourself in him. 
He pulls away when you whine quietly and looks down at you, his pupils already blown with lust and desire. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear then ducks down to place a chaste kiss to your lips before whispering “Bedroom. Now.” 
You nod and turn to head out of the kitchen, letting out a small giggle when he lands a quick slap to your ass. His eyes are glued to your backside as he follows you to the bedroom, his fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt along the way
You flop down on the edge of the bed with Javi just a few steps behind you. He tosses his shirt to the corner of the room and starts working on his belt as he stalks towards you. You smirk and reach behind you, undoing the clasp of your bra and letting it slide off your arms. Javi licks his lips at the sight of you sitting there in only your soft cotton shorts, looking like he’s about to pounce on his prey. 
He crosses the room until he’s standing inches in front of you, then slips his belt out of the loops and tosses it aside. You reach out, intent on undoing the button and zipper of his jeans but he stops you by wrapping a large hand around your wrist before you can touch him. 
“Nuh uh, baby. I’m takin’ care of you tonight”  
His words send a strong pulse of excitement down your spine and your heart pounds in your chest. He lets go of your wrist and you let it fall limply back to your side as you stare at him through your lashes. 
“Take off your shorts.” 
You immediately follow his command, quickly standing and moving to slide your shorts and panties down your legs so fast that you stumble a bit when they get caught around your feet. Javi reaches out and grabs your arm to steady you as you step out of your shorts and kick them to the side. 
“Good girl” he chuckles, dropping his hand from your arm. You watch with wide eyes, saliva gathering in your mouth as he shuffles out his jeans, his hardened cock gently slapping against his lower abdomen. He catches your gaze and gives you a knowing wink before making his way onto the bed. You stand in place, patiently waiting for your next set of instructions as he props himself up against the headboard. 
“C’mere” he says softly, patting his thigh. You positively beam as you climb on the bed towards him. You face him and you’re about to straddle his lap, but he stops you with a hand on your hip. 
“Turn around, cariño.”
You listen and immediately turn around and sit down between his spread legs, pressing your back into his chest. His cock presses firmly into the small of your back, a warm and welcome presence. With a contented sigh, you lean back and rest your head on his shoulder. 
“You listen so well, baby” Javi rasps, his voice rough with arousal. You only hum in response, your lips curving into a grin as you glow under his praise. He presses a kiss to your temple and his hands find your torso once again, slowly sliding up and down your sides. But he can only resist temptation for so long. 
He uses both hands to cup your breasts and you both let out soft sighs in unison. 
“Tan bonita, princesa” he whispers, his fingers finding both of your nipples. A small noise escapes from your parted lips as he feathers the pads of his fingers over the sensitive buds, teasing you until they’re stiffened peaks. He then pinches both, gently rolling them between his thumb and fingers. 
“That feel good?” he asks softly, his lips moving against your temple. 
You nod, letting out an uneven breath as you involuntarily push your chest forward into his touch. He pinches a little harder, pulling a delicate gasp from you. His cock twitches against you in response. 
“Want you to use your words, bebita.” 
You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself before responding. 
“F-feels good, Javi.” 
He clicks his tongue and squeezes a little harder again. 
“And what do you call me when I’m makin’ you feel good, princesa?” he asks, his voice dangerously low in your ear. 
Your mouth goes dry and your heart skips a beat in your chest. 
Fuck. 
The stress of your day was already far in the back of your mind, but Javi was intent on erasing it completely. And he knows exactly how to do so. 
“Daddy” you correct yourself, the simple word placing you on precipice of submission “Feels really good, daddy” 
“That’s right, bebita” Javi groans softly, his cock twitching in approval. “Such a good girl for me.” 
He then hooks his chin over your shoulder while you exhale a long, shaky breath as one of his hands leaves your breast and slides down your stomach. You clit pulses in anticipation, but he avoids where you want him most and instead smooths his hand over the top of your thigh. Your chest heaves with every breath as he teases you with gentle touches, getting you all worked up just the way you both like it. 
“You want me to touch you, princessa?” Javi asks, his fingertips dancing delicately on the inside of your thigh. It tickles and you reflexively try to close your legs, but he brings his foot to the inside of your calf and pushes it to the side before placing his foot flat on the bed, keeping your leg firmly in place. “Answer me.” 
“Yes, daddy, please” you whine, your voice coming out a lot more desperate than you intended. 
“Where, baby? Tell me where you want daddy’s fingers.” 
He’s teasing you, but it serves as an excellent distraction –  the events from earlier today are the least of your concerns right now. 
“You want them here?” he asks, his fingers now just barely tracing your dripping seam. “Want me to touch your pretty little pussy? Rub that pretty little clit?” 
You nod fervently and buck your hips up without thinking, your body betraying your patience and chasing after his touch. Javi chuckles darkly and harshly pinches your nipple with his other hand, making you jump in surprise. 
“Tell me, baby. Be a good girl and tell me.” 
You whimper, a hot flush spreading across your chest and creeping up your neck. You’ve been here a thousand times with him, been in far more desperate situations too. But the butterflies still tickle your tummy and the tips of your ears burn with embarrassment. 
“Want…want you to touch my pretty little pussy, daddy.” you murmur, the last of your sentence barely audible. 
He immediately rewards you by dipping two fingers into your slippery folds, groaning softly in your ear when he feels how wet you are for him. “Mmm that’s my good girl. Always fuckin’ soaked for me, huh?” he asks, dipping the tips of his fingers into your hole, gathering your slick and dragging it up to your clit. You nod lazily, your eyes fixed on his hand between your legs. 
He starts with slow, languid circles, his cock pulsing against your back with every small noise that bubbles up out of your throat. His other hand is still occupied with pinching and rolling your nipple. Hot arousal flows through your veins, every nerve ending on fire just from his easy touches. You want it faster, you need more. But you know he won’t give it to you unless you ask. 
“Pl-please, daddy. Faster please” you huff, squirming in his lap as you try to suppress the urge to buck your hips up again. 
“Look at you, princesa. Being such a good girl asking’ nicely like that” Javi whispers, instantly picking up the pace of his fingers and adding more pressure. You let out a long, low moan, the sound of it filling the bedroom. “Sound so pretty too” he adds, pressing his lips to your temple. 
His other hand leaves your nipple and he shushes you softly when you whine at the loss. He doesn’t tease you this time, his hand immediately joining the other between your legs. He keeps his two fingers on your clit, rubbing firm circles just like you asked while his other hand finds your leaking entrance. 
He doesn’t make you ask again before he slides his middle finger inside of you, probably more out of his own desperation to feel you clenching around him. You’re absolutely soaked, you juices freely flowing out of you, down his finger and into his palm like warm honey. He wants to draw it out, slowly work you up until you’re about to snap, but he’s not feeling very patient anymore. 
He slides his finger in and out of you a few more times before adding a second, curling his fingertips. He finds the spot inside of you instantly and you reward him with a loud gasp, your whole body trembling as you relax against his chest. 
“That’s it, baby. Just relax for me” Javi coos, his voice tight and strained as he tries to contain his own excitement. He pumps his fingers inside you, his fingertips nudging against the spot that has your whole body jolting with every pass. Every inch of your skin feels on fire as he works you, lewd sounds filling the room as he plays with your slick pussy. You feel wetness on your back and quickly realize that it’s his precum leaking from his warm tip, smearing against your skin as you squirm around. 
“Mierda, princesa” Javi groans as you clench tightly around his two fingers. “You close, baby?” he asks, already knowing the answer. You answer with a high-pitched whine, throwing your head back on his shoulder. 
“Cum for me, baby” Javi grunts, moving his fingers faster, bringing you to the edge. “Cum all over my fingers and then I’ll fuck you, nice and deep just how you like it” 
His fingers are relentless, rubbing dizzying circles on your clit and punching up into your g-spot. You can’t hold back anymore, rocking your hips and grinding down on his fingers. Your chest burns with every breath you manage to suck in, the hot coil in your tummy wound tightly, threatening to burst at any moment. You open your mouth and try to tell him that you’re about to cum, but every time you try to speak, the only sounds that come out are loud gasps in-between broken moans. 
And then you finally snap. Javi groans as you clamp down around his fingers, so tight that he can hardly keep moving them. He then quickly pulls them out, his eyes wide with amazement as your juices gush out of you, drops of it landing on his leg, most of it soaking the blankets underneath you. 
 “There’s my good girl” he hisses between clenched teeth. He watches intently as you thrash around, the sight of you squirting and the sweet sounds of your moans going straight to his cock as he works you through your orgasm. He doesn’t let up until you come down, whimpering and jolting at his touch. 
You collapse backwards against his chest, your head on his shoulder as you pant and try to catch your breath. He goes back to tracing your seam, his touch featherlight once again. You let out a sigh, your limbs heavy and head fuzzy with pure ecstasy.
He eventually moves his hands away, placing them on your thighs and letting out a low whistle. 
“Did so well, princesa. Look how much you came for me” Javi rasps, nosing at the column of your neck.
You pick your head up, looking down at the aftermath of your orgasm. You laugh breathlessly at the dark spot underneath you and the liquid on Javi’s calf shining in the dim glow of the lamp on the bedside table. Javi’s chest rumbles with his own chuckle as he presses sweet kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck. 
He doesn’t give you much time to recover before he taps your thighs and gives you your next command. “Hands and knees, princesa.” 
You’ve barely had time to catch your breath, but your pussy still aches in anticipation of his earlier promise. You take a deep breath and find enough strength to sit up straight. Your limbs are weak and noodly as you crawl over to a dry spot on the bed and get into position, your ass in the air with your face pressed against the soft blankets. 
You crane your neck to watch Javi who flashes you a devilish grin as he assumes his position on his knees behind you. You give him a sweet smile back and wiggle your ass. And he takes the bait, groping your cheeks with both hands before he spreads you open, putting everything on display just for him. 
“Fuckin’ gorgeous, baby.” he growls before leaning over to spit. You gasp and moan softly at the feeling of the warm liquid landing on your asshole and sliding down to pool at your swollen clit. He then brings his thumb up, using the pad to gently rub his saliva against your puckered hole. “So fuckin’ gorgeous” 
“Daddyyyy” you whine pitifully, pushing your hips back into his touch. He chuckles breathlessly and wraps a hand around the base of his cock and lining himself up. 
“You’re so good, baby.” Javi starts as he slides his cock in the mess between your cheeks. “My strong, beautiful, intelligent, good girl.”
Your face heats up at the praise, the words stirring up the butterflies in your stomach yet again. 
“Thank you, daddy” you murmur, the sound muffled by the blankets. Javi just hums and continues to glide his cock through the wetness, addicted to the way whimper every time his cockhead brushes against your swollen clit and your aching entrance. You whimper and wiggle your hips again, trying to get what you want. 
“Repeat it.” Javi commands simply. “Wanna hear you say it” 
You squeeze your eyes shut and whimper again. He’s completely taken over your headspace now, forcing you into a place of submission where there’s no room to think about anything other than him and what he asks of you. This is how he takes care of you, how he can turn every bad day on its head and take away every single one of your worries until you’re a blissed out mess underneath him. And he’s really fucking good at it. 
“I’m your strong, beautiful, intelligent, girl” you choke out, a fresh wave of slick gushing out of you and onto his rock hard cock at the forced admission.
“Forgot one” he breathes, his thumb still rubbing at your tight little hole. You wrack your brain, thoughts moving slower than syrup in your head as you try to remember what he said not even 10 seconds ago. 
“Good.” you say, as soon as you remember. I’m you’re good girl, daddy.” 
“Yes you are, baby” Javi says, notching his tip at your entrance. “So fucking good for your daddy.” 
He pushes all the way in, burying himself to balls deep in your aching cunt in one smooth movement. The sounds you make are obscene as you twist your fists in the blanket underneath him. He’s so deep, you swear you can feel him somewhere near your lungs. Just like he promised. He moans roughly behind you, the feeling on your warm walls squeezing rhythmically around his neglected cock overwhelming all of his senses.
But you don’t let him catch a break. You barely give yourself time to adjust before you take matters into your own hands and start rocking your hips, fucking yourself on his cock. Javi inhales sharply, both hands finding your hips and trying to hold you in place, but you’re not having it. 
“Daddy please–oh shit– please fuck me, need it so bad” you whine as you continue to rock your hips despite Javi’s best efforts to stop you. 
Javi just growls in response, his fingertips digging into your hips as he slides out until just his tip rests inside before slamming back into you. The loud moan that he pulls from you travels as a shiver down his spine and fuels his fire. He quickly finds a steady pace, brutally slamming into you like he’s fucking the stress out right out of your body. You let all the moans and whines and whimpers float freely out of your mouth as you take what he gives you, as he fills you up and stuffs you full over and over and over again. 
“You're so good for me” Javi grunts, gripping your hips and moving them backwards to meet his every thrust. “Feel so fucking good squeezing me like that, this tight little pussy was fucking made for me” 
Your eyes roll back into your head, his words once again turning your brain into mush as he fucks you into another plane of existence. You’re already teetering on the edge of another release, your lower abdomen burning with it, your swollen, neglected clit pulsing and desperate for attention.
And Javi feels it too.
“Already gonna cum again?” Javi asks breathlessly before landing a smack to your ass. You yelp in shock and there’s another wave of your juices leaking out onto his cock. 
“Ohh you like that, don’t you baby?” Javi coos before spanking you again, this time a bit harsher. Your face scrunches in pleasure and words have completely eluded you so you just cry out against the mattress, hoping that and your clenching pussy gets the point across. 
Thankfully Javi doesn’t ask you to answer him. Instead he keeps fucking into you, delivering firmm hits to your ass, completely mesmerized with the way it jiggles as he spanks and fucks into you. He’s just as close as you are, never lasts very long if he’s inside without cumming at least once beforehand. 
He moves one hand from your hip to between your legs, his fingers tracing where you’re stretched out so nicely around his thick cock before they land on your clit once again. You sob as he starts immediately rubbing fast, harsh circles that send you speeding towards the finish line. 
“Oh fuck, daddy! Gonna cum m’gonna cum pleasssee let me cum” 
Javi sucks in a harsh breath, his eyebrows furrowing together as his cock lurches inside of you. 
“Yeah, fuck yeah, baby. Cum on this cock like a good girl” Javi grits out, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he clenches his teeth together, trying to hold himself together. Your hands scramble against the blankets as he slams into you with newfound vigor, pushing you up the bed with each thrust and making you scream in ecstasy.
“Cum and then I’ll fill you up” he grunts. “I’ll fill you up and fuck it so deep that it’ll be leaking out of you for days, just reminding you of how good you are for me. Always so fucking good baby jesus christ” 
His filthy promises send you flying over the edge. You bury your face in the blankets and scream, your legs giving out from the force of it, your hips dropping to the bed and leaving you in a prone position. And Javi doesn’t miss a beat. He presses his chest against your back, using his freehand to support the bulk of his weight as he keeps working his fingers on your clit the best he can, not letting his pace falter even once. 
The new position shoves his cock even deeper inside of you, punching against your cervix with each thrust as he rearranges your guts. Your only option is to lie there let him drag out your release for as long as possible. 
“That’s it” Javi rasps, his voice sounding absolutely wrecked now. “Sweet little pussy is fuckin’ milking my cock, cariño. You want my cum? Want me to stuff you fuckin’ full?” 
You’re too far gone to respond, reduced to nothing but putty in his hands, your trembling body limp and pliant just for him to use. He can only hold it together for a few more thrusts before he buries himself all the way inside of you, spilling his hot seed deep inside of you.
Staying true to his promise, he fucks you through it, shallowly moving his hips and pushing his cum as deep as possible. You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, the sensation of it all pushing you over the edge once again, though you’re not sure if you ever came back from the last one. Javi watches in amazement as you cum again, your voice breaking on desperate sobs while you squeeze around him, truly milking him for all he’s worth.
He moves his hand from your clit once your moans start to die down and then collapses on top of you, carefully though as not to completely crush you. You welcome the weight, a comforting pressure that makes you feel so warm and safe and secure. 
He stays buried inside of you as you both come down. You can feel his heart pounding from where his chest is pressed against you, his warm breath fanning across your neck as you both try to catch your breath. The two of you stay there for a while, basking in the post coitus glow. His cock softens inside of you and he only moves when his cum starts to dribble out of you. 
You whine softly as he moves to sit up, his now soft cock slipping out of you and leaving you feeling empty. But the feeling doesn’t last too long. 
He scoots back so he’s kneeling between your legs, both hands on your cheeks and spreading you open again. You feel his eyes burning holes into your skin as he watches his cum slowly leaking out of you. He doesn’t let it fall too far though, using a finger to scoop up all that’s dribbled out and pushing it back inside. You moan softly at the sensation and it takes everything in him not to fuck you with his fingers once again. 
“Think we need to get you in a nice hot shower” he says, his tone sweet and soft once again as he removes his fingers. 
You turn your head to look at him through hooded eyes, a dopey smile plastered to your face, looking completely fucked out.
“And we’re ordering take out too” he announces, leaning over to place a sweet kiss on your cheek. Images of the burnt chicken sitting on the stove float through your head, along with fuzzy memories of the events from earlier today. But you don’t give a single fuck anymore. Javi thoroughly wiped every ounce of stress from your brain. And now anything that isn’t directly related to you and Javi at this moment, on your shared bed in the dim light of the evening sun filtering through the curtain is far, far away. 
“We’re not getting fucking chicken” is all you say and the sound of yours and Javi’s laughter rings pleasantly through the room and in your ears as content seeps deep into your bones.
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I LOVE THIS MAN okay thank u for reading <333
1K notes · View notes
rayraelleaizawa · 2 months
Text
They say something hurtfull in an argument
TW: sad, slight angst, fighting
Characters: Shanks, Beckmann, Mihawk
Side note: a bit ooc cause they'd never say something like that but we live for angst
Part 2: Making up after an argument
Shanks
"Why do you always have to be drunk?" i asked him as he woke up with yet another hangover. Being together with Shanks is amazing, he loves you, he gives you everything you could wish for and more, but there is one thing you hate about his beheaviour: the constant drinking.
"Because we are pirates, we have to party" Shanks answered with a grin before he groans due to his headache.
"This drinking will kill you one time, do you know that? It's also a huge downturn in bed when i want to kiss you and all i can smell is alcohol on your breath." You kept on complaining, tired of this. "Alcohol damages your body so much, do you want to die so much earlier or what?" you snapped at him.
"Maybe I need something to make me feel better about your constant bickering." Shanks said with a growl, the grin disappearing.
You halted in your tracks. A look of hurt crossed your face as you shut your mouth close. Sadness welled up inside you at the thought, that you were also a reason why he kept on having this extremly unhealthy habit.
"I'm sorry then" you said quietly and walked out of your shared quarters, now probably only his quarters, cause you werent sure if you want to go back there and sleep next to him.
You were just worried about him, why didnt you notice that you were annoying him with that? You never said anything, helped him out of all his problems that he caused by himself with his childish demeanour, you only scolded him when he hurt himself. He never hurts others, he only lets himself get hurt. And that frustrated you beyond believe.
Didnt he know how much you cared for him? Did he even care? Are you even enough to make him start to look out for himself?
Tears rolled down your cheeks as you hid yourself in an empty room on the ship. You tried so much to accept his drinking habbits, you didnt even ask him to stop, just to not be drunk 6 and a half days of the week, and that every week.
You burried your face in your knees and cried. Where you that insufferable that he hurts his own body just to be able to endure your company? If you left, then he wouldnt do this to himself anymore, right?
Benn Beckman
"Really? Another one?"
You say annoyed as you watch your boyfriend light up another cigarette.
"Yes. Another one."
He plainly answers. You guys had this discussion before. You wanted him to smoke less, he said he'd try to but the amount doesnt get any less.
"Benn this really damages your lungs. Cant you please try to smoke less?"
You asked again, and he sighed annoyed.
"They help me relax."
You started to get annoyed by his short answers.
"You could relax with other stuff. You could take a bath, or i could massage you, or we could just spend time together."
You suggested as he sighed out audibly annoyed.
"And you think after all the work and stress I have the whole day I want to spend it around a person which constantly nags on me and where i cant let my mind settle even a bit?"
He snapped, looking at you angrily. You looked at him with an unmoving face before you adverted your eyes. You didnt want to show him that his words hurt.
"I'm sorry, I didnt know you couldnt let your guard down around me."
You said defeated, turning around and slowly walking away. You could hear him say your name quietly but you didnt want to turn around. You just walked under deck and into your cabin. You sat down on your desk and started working, tears running down your face as you felt a coldness within you.
Does he not trust me enough? I didnt know that I am a stress factor for him.
Dark thoughts pleagued your mind as you tried to just work through your feelings. You tried to not be even more of a burden. Tears ran down your face, some of them hitting the desk and some hitting the papers with the lists and research about the treasures your crew had gotten lately.
Benn works so hard, and I never made him feel better. I just added to his stress. He'd be better off alone, right?
Dracule Mihawk
"Could you please tell me when you plan on leaving?"
You said to Mihawk as he came back after two months without telling you that he'll be gone.
"Why? I have my own free will if i remember correctly."
"Because I worry about you when you just suddenly disappear! It isnt that hard to just leave a note or something when you cant tell me in the face that you have to leave."
You were angry at him. What did he think? He was your boyfriend so why couldnt he just tell you when he left for weeks?
He puts down his hat and went to get some vine but you stopped him. Him not even looking at you makes you feel like you're unimportant to him, that this whole matter is of no interest to him.
"Do you really care so little about my feelings? Or am I just a nuissance to you right now that you cant even stop walking when I talk with you."
He then looked at you, annoyance but also a sign of being unbothered on his face.
"You're acting like a child. If I leave again and dont come back you'll at least know why now."
He said that so matter of factly that you were stunned about his coldness. He moved around you to the kitchen to grab some vine, and you just stood there.
Did he really just say that I am the reason why he doesnt want to come home anymore?
You shook your head slightly, recalling his words again and trying not to be hurt by them. As you hear his steps starting to come back, you hurried out of the room and into your shared bedroom. Tears streamed down your face as you tried to make it make sense.
When did he start hating to come back to you? What exactly was so annoying about you? Why didnt he just tell you that he didnt like your behaviour anymore? Does he even like you anymore?
All those thoughts were running through your head as you packed the little clothes and stuff you owned. You didnt touch a thing that he bought for you. If he wanted to leave and not come back, then you will make it easier for him and leave on your own. That's what he wants, isnt it?
After you finished packing you quietly stepped out of his castle and made your way into the woods. Tears were still streaming down your face, but you ignored them. This was for the best, right?
593 notes · View notes
captainfern · 9 months
Note
just read rock bottom (both parts) - it was really good !!on a side note, thank you for making it gn, not many writers do that =]
but after reading part 2 i cant help but think that price knew and was kinda putting on a show for soap ... maybe as a reward after a hard mission he invites soap to help him and reader out, and soap realizes some Things about himself, mainly that he likes both of them -- but thats just my thought, im a sucker for threesomes (all good things come in threes after all lol)
anyway, like i said before, rock bottom is really good !! i love how you wrote it, and especially soap's orgasms - im a sucker for guys who are pathetic and cun in their pants
sorry for the long ask, i just wanted to say my thoughts =D
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Rock Bottom pt. 3
Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x gn!reader x Captain John Price
[“Rock Bottom” by KISS]
[18+]
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• summary - soap thinks he's dreaming when price invites him to make you feel good lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 3.5k • warnings - gn!reader [they/them, 'hole', 'sweetheart', 'love', 'baby' are used], unprotected piv, threesome? idk price doesn't do a lot but it's enough lol, sub!soap, praise, oral [m!receiving], fingering, m!masturbation, a sprinkle of cum play, strong language
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i've changed it up a bit but i hope you like <3
sidenote i fucking LOVE that pic of soap
Late that night, Soap had a knock on his door. He wasn't expecting anyone, so when he checked his watch and it read 23:55, he was confused.
He opened the door, and was shocked to see you standing there. You smiled at him, and Soap swore he almost melted on the spot.
"Hey, Soap. Sorry, did I wake you?" You cocked your head to the side curiously, taking in Soap's unkempt mohawk and pyjama pants.
Soap shook his head. "No, no, was about too, though. Are you alright?"
You nodded, fidgeting with your fingers. You looked up and down the hall, before you leaned in closer. Soap's breath hitched, and he could smell your shampoo. He took a breath.
"Price wants to talk to you," you whispered. "He's in my room."
Soap's stomach sunk. Why would Price want to speak to him while he's in your room? The only logical explanation was that he knew what kind of sick fuck Soap was, listening in on him and you on more than two occasions.
Soap felt his cheeks warm in embarrassment, his spine tingling with nerves.
"Am... I in trouble?" Soap asked, and you gasped, shaking your head.
"No, of course not! Why would you think that?"
"Just wondering..." He trailed off, before he was following you down the hall a couple of metres to your bedroom door.
You opened the door and ushered him inside. Soap heard you close and lock it before you breezed past him and settled on the edge of your bed, a soft smile on your face.
Price leaned against the far wall by the window, a lit cigar in his hand. He exhaled a plume of smoke and it drifted out the open window, the tip of the cigar glowing red. The room was pretty dark, asides from the couple of soft, golden lamps dotted around the room.
Price cast a look over his shoulder at Soap.
"You know why you're here?" Price questioned, and Soap's stomach flipped with nerves.
"Uh... not really, sir."
"I think you do." Price said simply, closing the window and crossing the room with his cigar hanging from his lips. He paused beside your bed, placing a hand on top of your head, petting your hair.
Soap was burning up, and he dropped his gaze. He had been fucking caught, hadn't he?
"You're not in trouble, Soap. I told you that," you said soothingly, leaning into Price's touch. "But we know you listen. Through the wall. At the safe-house."
Soap was mortified. The tips of his ears were burning so hot he imagined there was steam coiling from them. He had his eyes firmly on the ground, looking at his feet. He didn't have the nerve to look up at you and Price.
"It's okay," you concluded. "You don't have to be embarrassed."
"Easier said than done..." Soap grumbled, face and body growing hot. Despite his torso being bare, he felt like he was being suffocated by his skin.
"You like the way they sound, don't you, sergeant?" Price voiced, and that made Soap finally tear his eyes away from the ground. "You have quite the crush, don't you?"
"...yes sir." Soap whispered. There was no point in denying it now. He was far too deep in whatever was going on.
Price hummed, looking down at you as he continued to massage your scalp, smoking his cigar. The smell permeated the room, lingering thick and woody. A light grey haze shimmered in the lamplight, hovering just above Price's head. Soap'd be concerned for his own lungs if he wasn't overcome with a million different emotions right now.
"You can fuck them, Soap." Price said suddenly, dragging his hand to the side of your face, cupping your jaw.
Soap's mouth dropped open. He couldn't help it. He wasn't fucking expecting that.
"I... I mean— not that I don't— it's... you know, it's just— are you sure? I don't—" Soap stuttered.
"It's okay, Soap," you said calmly as Price traced your lips with his thumb. "I want to. If, of course, you want to as well? You don't have to if you feel uncomfortable."
Price slipped his thumb passed your lips, and you snagged it between your teeth before you sucked it lightly. Soap's mouth continued to gape, not quite sure what to do or say.
"So?" Price urged, pushing his thumb deeper into your mouth, cigar hanging loosely from his lips. "You want to fuck them, or no?"
"But... aren't you two... together?"
"I don't mind sharing."
Soap's cock twitched at that. You were still sucking on Price's thumb, but your eyes were on Soap. You battered your lashes at him, and he felt his cock jump again, now semi-hard beneath the thin cotton of his pyjamas.
"Well?" Price prompted. "Last chance. You in?"
Soap was nodding before he got the words out of his mouth. "Y-yeah. Yes, sir. Please, sir."
Price beckoned Soap forward, popping his thumb out of your mouth. With one last pat to your cheek, Price settled at the head of your bed, smoking his cigar against your headboard. Meanwhile, you continued to sit cross-legged near the edge of your bed, smiling up at Soap as he approached.
When Soap's abdomen was parallel with your face, you reached forward and took hold of his pyjama drawstrings. You slowly pulled the bow apart, before you tucked your fingers beneath the waistband. You paused, looking back over your shoulder at Price. Soap realised you were looking for some kind of instruction. That made his cock harden further.
"You want to suck his cock, sweetheart?" Price asked.
You nodded, and Soap released a shaky breath.
"Right. Let him up on the bed."
Soap sat on the edge of the bed and you crawled onto the floor. You skimmed your fingers along his waistband teasingly, enjoying the goosebumps that appeared along the pale flesh. You could see the imprint of his hard cock beneath his pyjamas, and saliva flooded your mouth. You looked up at him, and the way he was looking at you made your stomach draw tight in pleasure.
You pulled his pyjamas down, and he helped by lifting his hips. You slipped it down his thighs just enough for his hard cock to spring out. It was achingly hard already, the tip flushed red and adorned with a single bead of pre-cum that threatened to fall as his cock bobbed against his stomach.
Soap hissed, tossing his head back when you took hold of him. You grasped him tight at the base, leaning forward to drool a string of saliva down his length. He groaned, breathy and desperate, as the saliva dripped down his shaft and collected above your closed fist. You smeared it up and down, pumping him, before you placed a couple of tiny licks to the tip.
His hips stuttered, and a hand shot down to hold your head. His hands weren't as big as Price's, but they sat heavier. Heavier in a way that made your stomach flip as he attempted to guide your mouth further onto his cock. You didn't let him— still placing small licks across the weeping slit, and along the underside of his head. He groaned your name, pressing your head closer, your mouth pushing against the tip of his cock, pre smearing across your lips.
Your other hand reached down to cup his balls, and his hips jolted again. He whined, eyelids drooping as he watched you fist his cock a couple of times. Then, you licked a fat stripe from base to tip, and he moaned loudly, tugging at the roots of your hair. He tasted heady, tainted with salt, as you swirled your tongue around his cockhead once more, before you finally gave in to his desperate pushing and opened your mouth wide.
You sunk your mouth around him, and he released another desperate moan, followed by a whimper when you hollowed your cheeks. He wasn't as lengthy as Price, but he was certainly wider. His cock stretched your mouth taut as you took more of him, and when your lips came into contact with your fist at the base, you gagged.
"Fuck, fuck," Soap groaned, hips twitching to thrust deeper. "S-so good."
Saliva leaked from your mouth as you pulled back, and then took more of him, bobbing your head up and down. His hand in your hair was a stable pressure, encouraging you to take more and more of him. You removed your hand at the base, holding his thigh for stability as his tip dragged across the back of your tongue, edging your throat. You gagged again, and Soap moaned in response.
Behind Soap, Price palmed himself through his trousers. He grunted softly, pressing his hand to the imprint of his hard cock. He puffed on his cigar, intent on not touching himself fully until Soap was fucking you into your bed.
"Mmmfuck, m'gonna come," Soap whimpered, pressing your head closer until your nose pressed to the hair at his pelvis. "M'gonna... fuck..."
"Pull back, sweetheart." Price ordered calmly, and you listened. You pulled your mouth off of Soap's cock with a wet pop, admiring how it glistened with your saliva. Soap groaned, frustrated, trying to push your head back towards his cock.
Price nudged Soap's lower back with his foot. "Don't start, Soap."
Soap stopped with a whimper, looking down at you. He pet your head, massaging your scalp. You kissed his inner thighs, before retracting your hands and getting to your feet.
Your chest was now level with Soap's face. Soap couldn't help but stare when you ripped your shirt off, nipples hardening in the cool air. Soap whined, and you let him lean forward and take one of your nipples into his mouth. You hummed in pleasure, hugging his head as he sucked and skimmed his teeth along your nipple. He switched to the other one as Price tutted behind him.
"Look how desperate he is for you, love," Price grunted, dipping a hand into his own pyjama pants and cupping himself, not fully stroking yet. "Make him beg to fuck you."
You cried out, the sound morphing to a moan as Soap bit at the skin around your nipples, sucking bruised over the indents of his teeth. He pulled away finally, his lips puffy and glossy. You stroked his short hair before taking one hand to the longer strands of his mohawk, tugging it to expose the bare expanse of his throat.
His Adam's apple bobbed as you clambered into his lap and attached your mouth to it, sucking harshly. Soap groaned, the vibrations travelling through your mouth as you peppered bruises up the column of his neck.
"You heard the captain," you teased, sucking a bruise right beneath Soap's ear before you bit down on his earlobe. "Beg for it."
Soap offered absolutely no resistance. He angled his head to look up into your eyes as you pulled away. His eyes were glassy and full of desperation, and it forced an involuntary moan from your throat.
"Please, please, let me fuck you," he begged, hands at your waist, trying to grind you against his lap. "Please, baby, please, I need it, I need it so bad—"
"You need it?" Price chuckled, and Soap's face burned up. "Hear that, sweetheart? He needs it."
"Aww, such a needy boy." You chuckled, placing a kiss to Soap's nose before you slipped off his lap.
You clambered across the bed until you were sat between Price's legs. You lay down, your head on his lap as you lifted your hips and pulled your shorts and underwear down, exposing yourself to Soap. Soap moaned, throwing his own pants away before he was swivelling his body, now sitting between your ankles. He grabbed your shorts and underwear and pulled them the rest of the way down, tossing them across the room.
"Please, please..." Soap whimpered, taking hold of your ankles and rubbing the skin. "Please can I... Please can I fuck you?"
You hummed, running your hands up and down Price's legs, feeling the material of his pyjamas. Price grunted, finally taking his cock out behind your head, gripping it in his hand. He fisted it, stroking a few times before stopping.
"Your choice, love." Price uttered, voice gravelly.
You smiled, biting your lip. "Have you been a good boy, Soap? Do you deserve it?"
Soap nodded desperately, crawling closer until his hands were smoothing against your thighs. "Yes, fuck, I've been a good boy. I'm—" he cut himself off with a whimper. "I'm your good boy. Please."
As Soap whimpered and begged, Price placed his cigar to the side and leaned down, cupping your jaw to angle your mouth to his. He kissed you deeply, tongue probing your mouth. Smoke swirled between the two of you, and you whined into the kiss. It was sloppy and lewd, the sounds downright pornographic. It tasted bitter and sweet all at once and when Price pulled back, he ran his tongue along your bottom lip for good measure.
Soap whimpered, moaning at the sight. He took his cock in his hand, fisting it roughly as you and Price pressed your tongues together. Price pulled back an inch, a thick string of saliva connecting the tips of your tongues. Soap moaned again, pre rolling from his aching tip and down his shaft. He was painfully hard, cock twitching with each movement of his fist.
The string of saliva snapped and Price pulled back completely, picking up his cigar and placing it between his lips, taking a deep inhale. Meanwhile, you looked back at Soap, all desperate and whiney. Butterflies fluttered around your stomach, and your smile grew wider after you licked your lips.
"You're so pretty, Johnny," you whimpered, fingers trailing down your body. "Want you to fill me."
Soap moaned, mouth dropping open. He continued to jerk himself off as you quickly sucked your fingers into your mouth, before you were placing them at your hole. You pushed them in, arching your back, and Soap moaned again.
"Don't they sound so pretty?" Price mumbled, stroking his cock too.
Soap was nodding deliriously, eyes trained on where your fingers fucked your hole. He whimpered, begging silently with his eyes, pupils blown wide.
Price chuckled. "Come on, sweetheart. Give Soap what he wants."
You nodded, removing your fingers and spreading your legs wider, draping them over Price's. Soap wasted no time drawing closer until his cock rested against the plush flesh of your inner thigh. He was breathing deeply, whimpering softly as his cock ached, throbbing with need.
"Fuck me, Johnny." You said, and that was all Soap needed.
Cock wet with your saliva and his pre-cum, he notched the head at your entrance and pushed inside. Slowly, he stretched you open, and you moaned loudly, turning your head into Price's thigh. Price stroked your hair, other hand fucking his cock into his fist. The sounds were loud behind you, making you moan again.
Soap screwed his eyes shut, chewing on the inside of his cheek in focus. He didn't want to bust a fucking nut halfway inside you. Fucking hell.
He pushed in further and further before he bottomed out with a guttural moan of your name. He grabbed your legs and put them around his hips, notching himself deeper with the new angle.
He whimpered. "Fuck, feel's so good, baby. So tight."
You moaned, feeling him deep inside you. Not as deep as Price would normally reach, but deep enough that his tip skimmed somewhere inside you that had your back arching He was thick, stretching your hole open around his girth, making you whine.
"Move, Johnny." You whispered, pleading.
You felt so full.
He obliged, beginning to rut into you like a man starved. He whimpered and whined, one hand kneading your thigh around his waist, the other gripping your hip and pulling you back onto him. His cock slammed into you, fucking your hole in a way that even made Price let out a groan.
"That feel good, love?" He asked, a puff of cigar smoke blowing across your bare body.
"Mhm." You nodded, unable to form a sentence as Soap fucked you.
Price fucked his fist, grunting around the shape of his cigar. The air was hazy around your head— or maybe it was the dizzy pleasure overtaking your brain and the thin ring of tears in your eyes. The noises that both Price and Soap were making made your stomach twist, butterflies coursing through you.
Price grunted, deep and earthy, tasting of smoke. Slick sounds followed as he continued to stroke his cock, his other hand coming to rest on the side of your face, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. A small ember from the tip of his cigar floated down and landed on your cheek. It burned slightly, but Price smoothed it away with his thumb. It made you moan.
Soap meanwhile was the complete opposite. No deep grunts or curses or anything like that. He had been reduced to a whimpering, whining mess. Each time his cock pressed deeper into you, he whimpered softly, often followed by a higher-pitched whine before he was moaning your name like a mantra. His breathing was rapid and uneven as he rutted his cock into your hole.
"Tell them how good you feel, Soap," Price grunted above you, and your eyes rolled as Soap hit a spot inside you that had your hole pulsing around him. Soap moaned breathlessly, now peppering wet kisses along your neck and chest. Price huffed, nudging Soap's leg with his foot. "Tell them, sergeant."
Soap whimpered. "Feels so good, baby, fuck. Such a t-tight hole, all for me."
"Careful..." Price grumbled, but Soap didn't seem to notice. Or maybe he just didn't care.
He had his sole focus on pumping his cock into you. Your body trembled beneath him, legs quivering against his hips. You were moaning softly, his name. Johnny, Johnny. He had been wanting this, craving this, for so fucking long. He could feel his orgasm building, but he wanted you to come first.
"You wanna come?" Soap whispered after sucking a dark splotch onto the base of your throat.
You nodded, chewing your lip as your body began to heat up. Price continued to pet your face, fist speeding up, cigar still hanging loosely from his lips.
"Go on then, baby. Come for me, please." Soap whispered, and you listened— your body spasming, back arching as you came.
Soap moaned loudly at the feeling of your hole squeezing his cock as your orgasm rolled over you. Price moaned too, thrusting up into his hand a couple more times before he came. Hot spurts fell past his fist, splattering your hair and cheek. You whimpered out and, breathing hard, he placed his cigar on the bedside table's ashtray, and smeared his cum across your cheek.
"S’all right, love, there you go." He muttered, admiring the way his seed painted the edges of your hair and the soft dips of your cheek and cheekbone.
Soap watched the exchange and whined deeply, the sound stretched out as his orgasm neared. He fucked into your tight hole with his eyes halfway open, pleasure making it difficult for him to open them fully. But he wanted to see you. See how pretty you looked when he came inside you.
"Fuck," he cursed. "M'gonna come— fuck— gonna come inside you, baby, just— ah, ngh— mmmfuck, baby, 'm gonna—"
"Not inside, MacTavish." Price growled, and this time Soap heard him, he just didn't give a fuck.
Soap shook his head. "M'gonna— please—"
You whimpered. "No, no... please, inside."
Price grit his teeth. "Fucks sake, don't—"
Soap came with a string of whimpers on his lips, your name falling across his tongue in a moan. He pumped you full, stretching your hole around his fat cock and filling you hot. You moaned, hands now running up and down Soap's back.
Soap's body dropped onto yours, cock still inside you, and he nuzzled his face into your neck as his breathing calmed. He gently kissed the skin, and you stroked his back, legs flopping off of his hips and laying either side of him, pressed against Price's.
"Good boy, Soap." You whispered, bringing a hand up to massage the back of his head.
He whined into your neck, and you smiled. Then, you looked up at Price, who was still stroking the side of your face, looking down at you with those pretty dark eyes.
"You 'right, love?" He asked.
You nodded, smiling, barely able to keep your eyes open. "Mhm..."
He patted your cheek gently, before he took a fistful of Soap's mohawk and lifted him from your neck. Both you and Soap gasped, and Price made the Scot look up at him.
"You're on cleaning duties for the next month, Soap," Price said simply. "Listen to me next time."
Soap scoffed, and Price let go of his hair. He immediately buried his face back into the curve of your shoulder, sucking gently on the bare skin.
After a moment, he mumbled: "So, there's going to be a next time?"
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763 notes · View notes
bigboysfalldeep · 8 months
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As a senior officer, rookies are assigned to Raùl up to four times a year. He shows them the basics, how to stay safe, what places to avoid and simply, how to be a good cop. His newest partner just graduated from the academy about three weeks prior. Being very green, days are extremely exhausting. Nonetheless, Raùl enjoys his job a lot.
He just brought him home after a very long, draining shift, and hes happy to spend an hour alone, to relax and to do paper work. The young one is learning this soon enough, and as long as nothing eventful happens, those reports are pretty easy to fill out.
Raùl is sitting inside the car in midst an empty parking lot a little out of town, lighting a cigarette. As he takes a deep breath, he leans back against the seat. With a huge exhale, he sighs and blows smoke out of his mouth.
He checks the clock. His shift is nearly over, time to head to the station. He turns the key, and the engine roars to life, but it dies soon after. Bewildered, he turns the key again, with the same result.
Sighing again, he thinks for a second. He cant afford that car to be broken. So much paperwork. Annoyed, he reaches for the key, but as he looks into the rear view mirror, he spots a dark figure sitting on his back seat.
"What the fuck? Who are you?" He grunts angrily, but as he blinks, that figure is gone. Raùl turns around to see where that man has gone, but there is no one in sight.
His heart is racing and his breath quickens rapidly. He feels his whole body shaking in fear. "What the fuck?" Raùl exhales, and the sound of his radio spooks him. He jumps, hearing the voice of his operator echoing through the car.
"Raùl. Can you hear me?" She says, and the cop takes a deep breath.
He turns back around and leans against the seat. "I can hear you." He turns on his microphone and holds back a nervous chuckle.
"Captain wants to talk to you, you may come in." She says calmly.
"On my way." He coughs, trying his best to not show his growing anxiety.
Raùl closes his eyes and runs a hand across his face and through his hair. 'Just my nerves' he thinks, but once he opens his eyes, however, the ghostly figure is hovering right in front of his face.
Letting out a guttural scream, he cant stop it from entering his body through his open mouth. Like sticky liquid it covers the inside of his mouth, his tongue and slides down his throat. Raùl gags, and tries to grab his attacker, but it doesnt work. He reaches for his gun, the radio, but then, his throat starts burning.
Its warm, goo-like, and more and more of it enters his mouth. In horror he watches the figure disappear inside him, deeper, until its gone.
His body reacts right away, getting harder than ever before. Its a extremely weird feeling. On the one hand its disgusting, the smell and texture of it all, but on the other hand, hes getting arroused.
Raùl blinks a few times and holds his throat, and stomach still feeling that sticky liquid running down inside him. He gags again and again, a defensive mechanism, but it doesnt work at all.
His entire body stiffens harshly, as all of his muscles bulge against his now tight uniform. "What is...." He growls deeply, but suddenly, his body starts twitching.
His entire being starts tingling, as warmth fills his entire chest. Subconciously, he starts stroking himself, feeling his skin heating up even through his clothes. His breath quickens again and he desperately tries to open up his vest, to make it easier for him to breathe.
After a few failed attempts, he opens the zipper and takes a huge deep breath in relief.
Just then, the warmth starts spreading through his arms right into his fingertips. The tingling gets even worse but he cant help himself but moan in blissful satisfaction.
Still stroking himself, he feels his skin move slightly, something or someone is adjusting to his bigger frame.
Its painful yet more waves of pleasure echo through every fiber of his body.
His upper body grows heavier and the warmth keeps spreading, now, through his waist into his thighs, further down, reaching his toes.
Raùl moans again as even his cock is tingling rhythmically. It grows larger, pressing against his pants. He never felt like that before, and nothing caused him to leak precum and stain his boxers that fast.
Unable to control himself he grabs his bulge firmly, moving his hand along his ever growing shaft.
"Soo good."
A voice enters his thoughts, causing Raùl to snap out of this state of pure pleasure for a moment.
"Who are you?" He opens his mouth, but hes just drooling. Instead, hes talking to that voice inside his head.
"Im the new owner of this beautiful body."
The voice says sassily.
"What? Who?"
Unable to form a coherent thought, Raùls mind starts spinning even faster.
Just then, his mind is flooded with so many different images, thoughts and feelings, which simply overwhelm him.
All of him tells him to give in. That its okay. So easy.
"Im merging with you, Raùl." The voice says. "Ive been looking for a host for months. And watching you with those rookies made my heart melt."
Raùl leans his head back, letting out a long guttural moan at the simple thought of his new partner.
His cock pulsates happily, staining his clothes even more.
"Im sorry. Couldnt help myself." The voice giggles.
"Please....dont."
Raùl cries out, the feeling of losing control getting worse and worse.
"I want you. I need you." The voice says. "And I always get what I want."
The pressure on his body gets nearly unbearable, and with a last effort, he tries to fight back, but the batlle is already lost.
Moaning, groaning and grunting deeply, Raùl shoots load after load into his pants. His body is giving in, and that voice is embracing this fully. The eyes turn glassy and unfocus before they roll back into his head. All of the muscles are testing the limits of the uniforms fabric and his voice breaks before it stops.
For a moment, all goes numb.
Then, 'Raùl' opens his eyes, and lets out a low groan.
With a smile, he looks at his reflection inside the rear view mirror, enjoying the sight of him.
"Very nice." He growls and inspects his face, running a hand through his nicely done hair and groomed beard.
'Raùl' then inspects the rest of his body. He enjoys how it feels to be a well trained cop. His muscles flex easily, and then, subconciously, he strokes his cock through a huge wet patch.
"Fucking good." He smirks, and raises his eyebrows. "The first time is always the best."
His captain wants to speak to him. Thats going to be fun.
763 notes · View notes
ghouljams · 10 months
Note
reading the fae au has my daddy issues REELING-
i dunno do i want to be held and comforted by one of them or fucked dumb😭🙏
could you maybe do some like paternal/father figurey stuff with any fae boy you want… cant prove the stereotype daddy issues right guys please im more than wanting old me to make me worse…
As previously stated I asked my friend for help writing the original fae!Price post. Gave me the main pointers on how it all worked.
Do you want more actual dad stuff with Ghost and baby? Or is this just wanting older men to be nice to you?
I'm just gonna have Price run some aftercare on his Witch.
You're still a little floaty, still fuzzy at the edges from having your own magic turned against you. You hear Price opening a window to let the smoke out, and you feel sort of cold without him holding onto you. Your whole body aches like you just finished working an overly complicated spell. You turn your head to rub your cheek against the couch, the worn fabric just rough enough against your skin to start to ground you back in your body.
You've done this enough times. Grounding. You stretch your fingers out and- oh, hm. Your hands are still tied behind your back. That explains the ache in your shoulders. Right. Right, you remember. You were bad at following orders, so Price had to- Why does that thought make your heart hurt a little. A small noise escapes you, somewhere between upset and need.
Price is by you in an instant, crouching to be sure he can look in your eyes as he slips his hand under your cheek to hold your face. "You're alright sweetheart," He tells you softly, "we're done, you did good."
You roll your shoulders wordlessly, your throat hurts, he nods and pushes up to reach over you and untie your wrists. You sag with a sigh feeling the pressure around your wrists disappear. Price reappears, looking over your face, checking for signs of distress. The gentle touches are so far flung from the bruising grip he'd had on you not long ago.
"You ok to sit up?" He asks, and you nod, "Good girl, up we go." Price helps you ease into sitting, his hand pressing between your shoulders to take some of the weight from the movement. Your head spins a little, and you make another upset noise at the pain of it. "I know, sugar, I know." His arm slides under your knees, the other wrapping around your shoulders.
You haven't been lifted in years, but your brain is a little sluggish in processing the soft grunt from Price before you're no longer on the couch. You rest your head against his shoulder, ground yourself a little in his scent. Or you try to, but the lingering tobacco and morning glory give you another shot of the brain fuzzies.
You drift for a while, settled at some point on the edge of your tub. The rush of water and smell of sachet herbs doing little to pull you back to earth until you are actually submerged. Magic sloughs off of you as you sink under the warm water. You hold your breath and stare up at Price through the refraction.
When you pull yourself back up to oxygen you feel like you're in your body again. At least magically. Price's hands catch your shoulders before you can tip forward back into the water. "Easy sweetheart," He tells you, his hands are rough and calloused, another feeling to ground with. You take a deep breath, trying to pull yourself from the non-magical portion of this. The soft dreamy space you'd settled in, the need to please him with little care to your own needs. "Not in a rush," Price presses your shoulders back against the end of the tub, "Just breathe, I'm not going anywhere," You close your eyes, rest your cotton stuffed head against the edge of the tub, "You did so good, I'm so proud of you."
You don't really know why he's telling you that, but it helps. Makes your ribs unwind a little. He pulls one of your hands from the water and digs his fingers into your palm, dragging and rubbing the ache from your hand before moving up to your wrist. Price pulls the pain out of your limbs as easily as he pulled the thoughts from your head, whispering soft sweet things to you until you're starting to doze.
"All mine," He murmurs, pressing his lips against the pulse in your wrist. You hum assent. All his.
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cookie-crumblr · 1 month
Text
The Smell of Smoke
Innocent F! Reader x M!Yandere Bully OC
Part 6~
His Info: 🖕✨
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
MINORS DNI
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CW: Fem! Reader, reader has a vagina, reader referred to as she/her, loud “noises”, bullying against reader, explicit language, asphyxiation, fight, blood, extreme violence against reader, hospital setting, coma-d reader,, medication use, non con kissing and touching,
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Yesterday feels like a dream, but your throbbing head at least proves the alcohol part…
But what about him being … Nice-ish… to you.
Nice for him definitely.
Nice for you, eh, not so much. no more like not at all.
It’s still weird though.
You don’t understand him in the slightest.
Gods, your leg and head are in agony, like you’re in a crocodile’s mouth and she’s giving you the famously terrible roll of death.
You clamber over to your meds, but they aren’t in your bag. At first you’re confused but when you turn around, your bleary eyes land on an open bottle of beer and your med bottle… Did he try to do something “nice” for you, again?
“What the fuck…” Your lip’s upturned as you groan.
Uhg just get them in you already.
An Hour Later~
You make it to class without a hitch! you feel like for the first time in a week you can breathe, at least a little, though labored, it still feels amazing!
Ezra isn’t in class today, another sigh of relief escapes you.
You’re taking notes diligently today, it’s actually so relaxing, you had no idea something so boring and mundane could be so therapeutic.
It’s a good day without him.
Outside the sun feels so wonderful on your face you forget about your broken and branded leg. It feels like the sun’s giving you a nice warm embrace, keeping you safe from all the horrors you’ve experienced now.
You find a stall vending your favorite foods and go to buy some, and a stranger pays for your food!
It’s such a good day without him.
The Next Day~
*SLAM, BANG!*
“SURPRISE! ‘M Y’R NEW ROOMIE~”
You jump as your door flies off its hinges, and Ezra announces his presence loudly and ridiculously.
Come on, of course you cant have more than a gods damn day to yourself.
He starts throwing your roommates shit all over the room, “the fuck are you doing!?” You yell at him without thinking.
“What’d you say, bitch!?” He immediately faces you, and throws down whatever was in his hands in front of you, causing you to yelp and flinch.
“I-I didn’t—”
“Y-You what? didn’t mean it? It’s too fuckin’ late for you, slut.” He’s already on you, hand wrapped around your throat.
You cough without any air, it’s painful to even try.
Your crutches are next to you on your bed…
You reach and stretch over—
You manage to grab one, it’s a little awkward to wield and swing, but you fucking hit him!
He’s surprised and let’s go of you, a wild smile pulls at his lips.
Oh gods!!
You Bolt.
By the time you’re out of the door, your bad legs make you stumble, then in a second he’s tackling you to the ground.
He punches the back of you then grabs you by the back of your head and smashes your face into the ground.
There’s a ringing in your ears, and blood starts pouring from your nose like a geyser.
“Ezra! Stop!!” Ace’s muffled, worry filled voice rings out from down the hall.
“Stay outta it Ace!” Ezra’s voice is equally as hard to hear, even though he’s yards closer.
“No! Quit it!!! Y/N didn’t do anything to you!”
He throws you forward. You have absolutely no fight. You lie shaking and in complete shock, frozen as of time is ice around you.
“Y/N, You oka— no of course not,,” he rushes over to you.
“Ezra… why…” Ace didn’t ask it, he just sounds so disappointed in his brother.
“Yeah, yeah” Ezra doesn’t look at Ace as he walks past him.
“Easy up there, Y/N,” Ace helps you up and slips your arm around his neck. He’s shorter than Ezra so it’s a little easier to walk with him helping you.
“Fuck, I’m sorry… I’m so… Sorry,” he whispers seemingly to himself.
Your ears are still ringing and your head is in more agony than you’ve ever felt up there, you aren’t sure you can stay upright even with Ace’s help.
“woah there! here,” He lifts you into his solid arms and makes sure your tight against his chest.
You try to stay awake but find that a feeling deeper than even the promise of the deepest sleep is pulling you under fast.
“Hey, w-wait, i think you’re s’posed to stay awake with head injuries!” He panics, and speeds up to his car, but stops and calls for an ambulance.
Shit, you’re gonna have a massive bill. Your head is… in unthinkable agony. Is it gonna explode!?
You black out, and come to a few times, one second your in Ace’s arms, the next you’re in a fire truck? next your in a gurney, and then a hospital.
“Y/N!?” Its Ace that’s there next to you when you wake up, but you see a familiar strawberry blonde standing almost outside of your line of sight. He’s wearing a deep scowl. “Y/N! Y/N! You’re awake!”
“You… Were in a coma… For a week.” Ezra doesn’t look at you as he gets the words out.
“A WEEK!? This time you put me in a coma for a week, and you can’t even look at me, you’re despicable. Why are you even here!?” You grab your head as it pounds.
His fiery gaze meets yours head on and you aren’t backing down. What’s he gonna do? put you in another coma??
For fucks sake.
His expression changes, something akin to lust maybe? It’s always confusing you and giving you whiplash, nothing is ever how you expect with this guy.
“Ace, can you give us a minute?” he asks.
“No can do.” He crosses his arms and shakes his head, steadfast, and not going to leave your side.
“It’s alright, i think he’s made whatever point he wanted to make for now.” You resist rolling your eyes at Ezra, thinking back to just … Well you guess a week ago now. It feels like it just happened a second ago to you. Uhg, your head.
He takes a minutes long pause before deciding and finally standing. “okay… But… yell if you need help.” He’s torn, but you want to hear what Ezra has to say, if anything, or if he’s just gonna jump you again, at least you’re already in a hospital bed…
Oh fuck! it’s just hit you… A Weeks worth of medical bills!? FUCK.
“Y/N—” He starts, but…
“Nope, wait, let me go first. What the hell do you want from me!? Just take it and get it over with already! just look at me! are you done yet? happy?? satisfied??”
“I’m not happy.” He looks out the window at a tree. “‘sides, to be honest, thought youd ‘ave a thicker skull than that,” he snickers.
“Oh fuck off.” You’ve never been so angry before in your life. You’ve also never felt so powerless. Maybe because you have nothing left to loose you feel more unhinged and ready to fight.
“I’m sorry.” he says flatly.
“Did you just..?” NOTHING can redeem him, and he just thinks— or maybe he’s not even thinking! does he have a brain to think?
He crosses the room.
Leaning over you in your bed, he grabs your face to pull it up right in front of his own.
You meet his challenge and stare deeply back into his dark red-brown eyes.
He looks down at your puffed lips and back up.
Soon he’s grabbing you all over your upper half, chest waist, belly, throat, he messes up your gown and when it’s loose around your shoulder he bites you there.
His teeth sink into your flesh, you’re biting your lip and trying to shove him off but you have no strength.
Your head lolls back wards, and as youre about to start counting the dots in the ceiling, he backs off.
“Fuck this, ‘m goin’ out f’r a smoke,” he tosses your head back down to your body and back onto the hospital bed.
Ace steps in right after him, before the door closes, “You alright?”
“Yeah, thank you, Ace… I think i need more meds tho hah” you try and laugh but your head pounds.
“Here!” He pushes the button for you and tells the nurse what’s wrong. he listens to Ace for a second then comes to you to confirm and once you do he gives you more morphine.
Then, your whole body just melts.
Woo goodness does that feel nice. You drift back into sleep happily, forgetting everything, along with the pain just for a second.
Yet…
Both dreams end the same…
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first-edition · 1 year
Text
Firework Confession
Billy Hargrove x reader
Sum-You take billy out to the firework show and he finally opens up to you about everything, his mom, his feelings for you and why it’s only you have cares about. 
CW- trauma, mention of abuse, kissing, cussing, mention of alcohol, use and mention of smoking, confession.
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You giggle as you take billy by the hand and lead him over to the edge of the Parking structure. 
“Y/n think we gotta hurry.” He says chuckling at your actions. 
“fire works are starting in a bit we gotta get the best spot.” You say. You lean against the railing looking up at the sky all the stars and city lights beyond. 
“here you’re fucking stupid for not bringing a jacket.” He says taking his off as hes got a flannel under. He wraps it around you ceasing your slight shivering. The smell of his cologne and leather fill your nose such a comforting smell.
“I wish it was like this all the time.” Billy says you look over to him as he take out a pack of cigarettes and pulls one out. 
“like what?” You ask. He sighs placing one between his lips and shakes his head. He walks to his car grabbing a stray match and the two bottles of corona then walks back to you. He waves his finger telling you to come to him and you listen. 
He hands you the bottles before leaning close to your chest stricking the match on the necklace he used to wear but gave to you. He lights his cig putting the match you and blows the smoke out. 
“billy?” You ask. He licks his lips leaning against the edge. 
“like this you know…just me and you, no one to come in a fuck shit up? Im only….” He pauses. 
“im only like this, myself, with you.” He says you put the bottles down moving closer to him. As he drags out another breath of smoke. Blowing it to the side. 
“my uh..my folks they are the best people.” He says 
You already knew about Billy’s mother leaving and how its just him his father and max. His fathers current girlfriend living with them. 
“a couple weeks ago i told you dropped the bar on my side yeah?” He says you nod. 
“i didn’t. I am that stupid to do it but-my dad he like to throw me and max around. I take most of it so she dosnt get hurt but i cant always protect her. That’s why im always at yours.” He says you look up at him. 
“the black eye wasn’t football either?” You ask he shakes his head. You nod. A tear falls down his cheek. You reach your hands you brushing your thumb against his cheek and smiling at him. He sniffs and takes another breath if smoke holding it for a second before breathing it out.
“Billy..w-why didn’t you tell me sooner?” You ask.
“Its not important.” He says.
“Of course it’s Important!? You’re important. You’re important to me.” You say.
He chuckles shaking his head leaning against the railing.
“Damn baby you’re gonna make me blush.” He chuckles reverting back to his Billy mask.
“I mean it Hargrove.” You say lightly punching his chest your fist comes incontact with his pec and he takes a hold of your wrist keeping it there. Your fist open letting your palm rest against him.
“When my mom left she’d gone with no warning just one feat got up and left. She that was the first time my pops really beat the shit outta me. Max was just a baby…I remeber staying up all night in her room making sure he wouldn’t come in and do that same to her.” He says his fingers brushing against your arm. Once again inhaling before throwing the cig off the edge.
“When I saw Nate bothering you at the party I didn’t think much until he put his hands you. I didn’t want anyone, friend of or other wise to fucking touch my girl.” He says as you move closer to him a small smile forming on your lips.
“You’re so important to me. You’re kind to me and tell when what I do wrong without being a bitch, you take care of me and you’re..your so so good to me….I lo-“ you wrap your arms around his neck kissing him deeply he kisses you back just as soon as you do.
His hands grip im your waist. The loud boom of a fire work and a bright colorful light pulls you away as you look up at the show starting. Bill moves your face back to him keeping you looking at him.
He smirks looking down at you.
“I love you y/n…I don’t want anyone else telling you those words I just want you.” He says you smile placing you hand on his cheek brushing your thumb against his skin.
“I love you too billy” you take away your hand balling it into a fist and lightly punch his arm.
“Took you long enough!” You giggle he chuckles and nods.”
“Sorry.” He says gripping your waist pulling you into him pressing his lips against yours once more.
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yourtouchismidas · 11 months
Note
Ok sorry I just submitted the 🍃 blurb without reading that you were re-opening blurbs for George only, is this for RG verse or other? Because maybe you could do like Gigi phoning George to look after her if she's tried drugs or weed for the first time and is freaking out, because she's too scared to tell her parents.
no worries at all, i'm combining this with your first message and doing something in between!
gigi has been with her friends in the park. they're nice friends, good friends, but she is sixteen and they are all curious. they want to try it. and one of the boys has managed to pick up. one of them is a smoker so he knows how to roll, and then they all sit there staring at the joint like, what do we do now?
"gigi you're dad's a bit of a druggo isnt he?" one of the boys says, "you go first."
"he was," gigi says, hitting him playfully, knowing its a joke. they all love matty, the boys being slightly scared of him, especially the one who fancies gigi and wants to make a move. "but he quit hard stuff ages ago and weed when i was too young to remember really. so i dont fucking know."
eventually, one of them lights it, and they take turns toking, the smoker teaching the others how to make sure they take it back into their lungs. they cough and splutter and laugh, but start to feel the effects of it, heads tingling, thoughts hazing, everything becoming funny. gigi feels that too. until she sees someone across the park looking at them. what does he want. does he know they're high. and underage. is he looking at just her. does she know him.
her whole body goes hot as panic rushes through her. her heart starts beating in her chest. the guy who was staring moves on. but she cant shake it. she looks around at the empty park, terrified someone else is gonna come.
"guys," she manages to whisper, "guys i'm freaking out."
"oh shit," one of her friends says, one of the girls who wasnt really feeling anything, but just pretending to to fit in with the vibe. the others are all laughing. telling her to calm down. saying its fine. she starts breathing heavy and then they take notice. someone gives her a sip of coke for sugar but it doesnt work. her friend tells her when to breathe in and out.
"please call someone," gigi says, in between breaths. her head is swirling.
"your dad?"
"no!" she says quickly, she passes them her phone. "call my uncle please. my uncle george."
george turns up about half an hour later in an SUV, with dark sunglasses on. gigi has calmed down since they called, just feeling better knowing that he was coming. the other kids stare at him, this aging rockstar, and whisper to gigi to ask he will get them in trouble.
"course not. it's why i called george," she says.
he has hopped out the car and is walking over and she walks to meet him. he opens his arms and she falls into them. smelling the comforting smell of his washing powder and cigarettes.
"you okay kiddo?"
"yeah," she says, pulling back and looking at him.
"scared me," he says. then he nods at her friends as a greeting. they all stared, open mouthed, in awe. he still looks effortlessly cool, even nearing fifty, still as much a rockstar as ever.
"i was panicking," she says, "but i'm feeling better now."
"yeah," george says, sticking a cigarette in his mouth, "that will happen. you guys all alright?"
gigi's friends nod and say yes, and thank you, while george bobs his head.
"what you smoked?"
"just weed," one of the boys says.
george laughs, "yeah i know that. i mean kind. and what dealer?"
they shrug. they dont know what kind. they tell him what the dealer looked like.
"oh god," george says, puffing on his smoke, "dont use him. you want weed gus," he turns to gigi, "you come to me okay?"
"really? even with matty..."
"yeah, you need matty's permission first."
gigi rolls her eyes. "he's gonna kill me, george, you know that."
"yeah," george says, "but he's not gonna be happy with me either. so let's go. face him together."
he nods towards the car and gigi waves to her friends and hops in. she giggles when george starts driving, picturing the way her dad is going to yell at her, her mum and shay's concerned looks, the babies clamouring around her asking what weed is and crying that its not fair gigi got some and they didnt.
"what you laughing at?" george says.
"i dont really know, i'm about to get bollocked," she says, spluttering.
"yeah, that'll happen too," george says. soon he is laughing at her laughing. and both of them can't stop.
matty appears at the doorstep after seeing george's car roll up and gigi in the window.
"what's gone on here?" he says. he comes closer and holds gigi's face so he can get a better look at her red eyes.
"skunk," george says, and the two of them both try to hold back laughter.
"george?! you gave my daughter..."
"no no no, not me. sorry. should've been more clear. she did it with her friends and was panicking a little so i picked her up."
matty's eyes widen. he frowns. he's mad. oh he's mad.
"get in the house," he snaps, pointing to the open door behind him.
"right, i'll get going then," george says.
"nope. you too. in," matty says.
"it was gigi who did it," george says, pouting like a child.
"yeah and what good examples i've had," she says, and then her and george both start laughing.
"in. now." matty says. they go. george says as he is passing, "you need to teach her how to pick good stuff." which earns him a slap on the back of the head.
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lenreli · 9 months
Text
Day 3 - Furry [Human AU]
[AO3] Continuation of Enemies to Lovers, regency style!
-
A lot can be said of what happens after Hob Gadling saves Dream from being kidnapped during one of his family’s parties, but mainly Dream wants to look at Hob’s soaked body, standing in the front door like a wet dog. “What happened to you?” 
Hob sighs, a hand scratching his wet hair, pulling off his coat with a sigh as it flops onto the floor, wet shoes and socks being taken off too. “Trip to the lake went awry,” Hob says eventually, and Dream tilts his head as Hob wrings out some of his loose shirt and pants ― and last time, he definitely didn’t see the coarse hair on Hob’s chest, which was a major oversight on his part.
“And why come here, instead of your own home?” Dream asks, brain still stuck on the hair he can now see through the wet, white blouse as it sticks to it.
“The way you’re looking at me right now is one of them,” Hob says with a grin, and Dream looks away, face heating as Hob chuckles, and Dream can hear the other man move closer, hands sitting on his hips and Dream breathes, turning around so they’re face-to-face. Dream’s hand twitches as he puts them under a wet shirt, obsessed with the feel of wet skin and hair as his hands trail up, smelling lake and smoke from how close they are. “And after all this time, Lord Endless,” Hob whispers, deep and low, can almost the vibrations under his hands as there’s a scratch of a beard against his throat, “I have yet to see your room.” 
“Another oversight on my part. Allow me to make it up to you,” he breathes, uncaring of how wet Hob’s hands are on his thighs, squeezing them ― and they don’t run to his room, but it can be a fast walk at least. Once locked inside, Dream pulls off the white shirt as they kiss, Hob ending up under him on his four-poster bed, as his hands go straight to the fur on Hob’s chest.
Hob laughs, rough hands stripping off his clothes, Hob’s pants ending up taken off in the fray, and Dream groans at the feeling of hairy thighs under his own, rutting down mindlessly. “Been thinking about you ever since,” Hob gasps, and there’s callused fingers on Dream’s lips, Hob’s other hand going to his hip.
“The tea shop?” He says, and Hob whimpers at the reminder, “with you under a table―” Dream’s sentence is cut off with fingers pressing into his mouth, and he smirks, laving the digits, and Dream can feel Hob’s cock twitch, hips canting up.
“Stop talking,” Hob whines, and Dream raises an eyebrow and bites the fingers, teeth scraping as Hob holds him still as they ground against each other.
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Text
dreamscape
For batsycats, by silentvoicescryingout
  “You’re so beautiful,” his voice coos huskily, mere breaths from her ear. “ My Sakura .”
She moans, stretching her limbs like a cat, legs splaying wide as his fingers brush, featherlight, over her folds.
“Touch me, Sasuke-kun,” she begs in a whisper, rolling her hips against the air, leveling him with a needy stare. She spreads her legs wider, presenting all of herself to entice him into action, into granting her relief from the throbbing ache inside.
“Here?” he murmurs, that small grin she loves so much curving his mouth as he presses his palm fully over her dripping core.
She gasps, eyes rolling back as he rubs at her with his full hand, spreading her wetness all over. The tips of his fingers slip teasingly between her sensitive folds, one dipping slightly into her entrance now and then.
Her release is so close, maddeningly close but just out of her reach. She whines through Sasuke’s ministrations, canting her hips and begging him to give her what she needs, to push deep inside of her to touch that part of her that needs it most.
“Shhh,” he whispers, leaning forward until she feels surrounded by him, his heat, the scent of sage and ash and smoke. “I’ll take care of you, my love.”
And finally, finally, he sinks two fingers deep inside, curling, reaching and thrusting as he chants–
“Sakura.”
Her eyes fly open to find obsidian and hints of lavender staring down at her. The thin padding of her mission pack digs into the flesh of her cheeks, her blanket tucked high around her chin but tangled and askew around her legs.
His gaze is dark, apologetic when he murmurs, “I’m sorry to wake you, but we have to move on. I can smell a storm coming in soon. We should leave before it hits.”
Sakura nods shakily, sitting up abruptly and offering her sweetest smile. Once he turns to stalk out of the rickety abandoned shelter, she presses both hands to her blazing cheeks and muffles a groan in her knees.
Fuck.
~
The air is so cold it feels like tiny kunai scraping against his cheeks as it whips by. Water is falling in sheets toward the ground and in various directions. Freezing droplets splash against his scalp and the exposed skin of his throat, dribbling down to soak under his clothes. 
He glances to his side, single hand tightening over Sakura’s trembling fingers as she blinks up at him through spiky, wet lashes.
“It’s really coming down, isn’t it?” she murmurs. Sasuke is sure she is likely speaking at a normal volume; it is only that her voice is drowned out by the sound of the pouring rain, and the whistle of wind slashing through the trees and brush around them.
“Come on,” he says at an elevated volume, drawing her close to his side. “There should be a cave nearby to shelter in until the storm passes.”
A fizzling crack of lightning followed by a thunderous boom makes her flinch. Sakura shoots him a sheepish smile before shuffling closer to his side and ducking her head against the onslaught. Sasuke frees her wrist, fanning out his cloak to fall around her shoulders in a last-ditch attempt to shield her from the downpour. It is useless, he knows, as they have both been practically soaked to the bone already.
With her pressed this close to his side, Sasuke can feel the way her entire body is shivering. His hand unconsciously firms in its grip, fingers tightening at the curve of her waist. The bit of skin exposed by the cropped nature of her top is riddled with gooseflesh. He is attuned enough to her after weeks of close-contact that he can tell she is circulating her chakra in an attempt to keep warm.
He inhales deeply, the scent of rain, soil and Sakura filling his nose. As he exhales, he begins to follow suit, kneading his chakra beneath the surface of his skin and concentrating it in the palm of his hand at her side, where his hip is flush against hers as they tread heavily through the thick mud and water.
She shivers again, tightening a fist in his cloak and bringing it close to her chest. Her other hand snakes behind his back, fingers splaying at the center of his spine. He flits his gaze down to hers again and sees her pale cheeks tinted with the slightest bit of pink.
“Thank you,” she mouths, offering him a smile. Her soft bangs stick against the frame of her face, colored a dusky rose from the moisture. Her eyes somehow look brighter against the dark and the gray around them, shining like two jewels in her face.
“Aa,” he breathes. Another streak of lightning and clap of thunder sounds and then the rain begins to fall impossibly heavier.
Facing forward, he quickens his pace to a jog, clutching her absentmindedly to his side all the while.
~
By the time they reach the mouth of the cave, Sasuke and Sakura are dripping wet, pale and shivering. The storm rages outside, rivulets of water flooding the ground. Luckily this place is carved out of a ledge a few feet above ground level, high enough to avoid flooding and deep enough to protect against the violent winds and icy rain.
Sasuke drops his pack near the edge, venturing deeper while clutching a damp scroll. He unfurls it, using his sharingan to make things clearer in the darkness; with a click of his teeth, blood beads on the tip of his thumb and drips slowly onto the scroll. He murmurs a summoning jutsu and a pile of dry kindling appears.
He uses his katon , exhales a stream of flame to bring the fire roaring to life. He finds stray stones on the ground nearby and uses them to border the fire. A small sigh falls from his throat at the rush of warmth.
“That’s smart,” Sakura stutters from behind him. He turns to see her lingering near the mouth of the cave, dripping and shivering violently. “Storing firewood in a summoning scroll…genius.”
“Come closer to the fire,” he says, brow furrowing at the way her lips seem tinted purple even in the low, flickering light. “You’re freezing.”
She shakes her head, “I’m too wet. I need to change these clothes, and you do too…”
Her voice trails off as she drops shakily to a kneeling position, opening her pack and fumbling around. After a few moments she curses weakly and Sasuke rises to approach, peering down at her as she pulls out handfuls of wrinkled, wet fabric.
“Everything is soaked,” she sighs, cursing quietly again. “I wore the last of the clothes I had stored in my own scrolls. I should have known better. Fuck.” His lips almost quirk into a small smile; the very first week of their travels had brought the shocking realization that Sakura, sweet-voiced and angelic-faced as she was, cursed like a sailor.
His concern over her trembling form and blue-tipped fingers quickly kills any mirth he might have indulged.
“You’re going to get sick if you don’t get out of those wet clothes,” he says quietly. “I’ll check if there’s something in my bag that managed to stay dry.”
“Oh, Sasuke-kun…” she begins to protest, but Sasuke is already kneeling beside his own pack, rifling through his belongings.
Blood rises to his face slowly as he finds everything inside his bag is wet as well. He glances up at her apologetically.
“I have nothing dry enough,” he sighs, rising to a standing position. “I keep some bedding stored in my scrolls. We’ll have to make do with blankets alone.”
Sakura nods slowly, lashes fluttering as her gaze falls to the ground, focusing on the shadows cast by the dancing flame feet away. She fidgets for a second before reaching down to peel off her knee-high sandals, then, her tiny, pale toes flexing over the rocky ground.
Sasuke swiftly summons another scroll, pulling from it a small pile of thick blankets, and two thin sheets. He saunters toward the fire, laying the blankets as close as possible in the hopes that they would take on some extra warmth. He sheds his dripping cloak, tossing a kunai so that it wedges into the cave wall and hanging the garment from it. Even standing nearby the fire, a chill snakes down his spine as he levels a line of other kunai the same way, creating a space for them to hang up their clothes to dry.
He turns back to see Sakura clutching her arms around herself, shaking like the leaves being torn about by the racing winds outside.
“Here,” he says sharply, snatching up one of the thin sheets and walking briskly to stand in front of her, “take this and dry yourself. Then come wrap yourself in a blanket and sit by the fire. I’m going to quickly set up a few traps outside.”
Her teeth chatter as she said, “Sasuke-kun, I can help. Just let me-”
“Please,” he intercepts, stepping slightly closer. He can smell jasmine and rain and something sweet like berries standing this close. A hard swallow works down his throat before he urges her again, “Get warm. You’re shivering hard enough to break your bones. It will only take a moment, and it’ll give you privacy to…undress.”
Understanding lights her eyes and the tiniest pink flush dots her pallid cheeks. She nods again, creeping deeper into the cave and closer to the fire with her shoulders hunched forward. 
Sasuke exhales a slow, heavy breath before pivoting on his heel and trudging out of the cave into the chaos outside. Rain pours over him, icy and feeling almost solid with the force of the downpour. He moves as quickly as he can about the perimeter, anchoring traps where he can only hope they won’t be swept away by the tiny current building on the ground as it floods with water. He casts an area genjutsu, wide enough that he thinks the traps will be a last resort anyway.
It takes him all of a handful of minutes to secure their area, but he dawdles anyway– he tells himself it is to ensure Sakura has time to dry and remove her clothes in peace. But the staccato of his heart behind his ribs and the sharp breaths puffing steam in the cold air cue him into his own desire to avoid being in close quarters for as long as possible.
The first few weeks of their travels had been maddening; they both were awkward and stilted, him being moreso, of course. His attraction to her only intensified in proximity, causing him to struggle every moment to not stare at the way different levels of light cast over her face, to lean in to capture the tinkling of her quiet laughs. Sasuke had nearly embarrassed himself on multiple occasions with the urge to sniff at her sweet-scented hair and overall pleasant aroma, because it called to him so.
Now, these reactions were more tame. Exposure had served them well, lulling them into an ambience of comfort–an anticipatory stasis at best. Sparing a glance did not seem such a monumental feat, and he did not feel the need to study her for hours, as if he would not see her again at any given moment. 
Yet, all of the struggles of their early days alone rushed back and did so tenfold at night. Whether they sheltered in a cave like the one he loitered outside of now, or in adjacent rooms at a small-village inn, the late hours brought with them traces of insanity, a yearning so intense it would cause him embarrassment that would linger until the morning. 
He hesitates now, shivering and drenched because he is achingly aware that when he returns, Sakura will be bare save for one thin swathing of fabric. She will be close enough to breathe in her scent, to feel the essence of her chakra against his senses. 
He realizes that she is likely huddling close to the fire now, cold and trying to sap in warmth with only a blanket and a meager flame.
Inhaling deeply once more, Sasuke turns and makes his way back to the mouth of the cave, slowing his steps once he is deep enough to not feel the rebounding splashes of water as it ricochets off the ground. He pauses, glancing upward at Sakura who sits mere inches away from the makeshift fire pit, curled in a ball so tight her form seems tiny, insignificant among the looming shadows dancing over the walls.
“Sasuke-kun,” she says, each consonant trembling as her teeth chatter lightly. “You’re back.”
“You’re still cold,” he replies, browns pinching as he notes the shudders wracking her form. 
“Yeah,” she stutters, bobbing her head in a slightly disjointed manner. She attempts to give him a smile, nonetheless and his heart skips a beat. “It’s freezing. I’ll warm up soon, though. Hurry and get changed!”
He nods slowly, taking a few more steps before pausing again. His gaze falls to her small fingers clenched in the fabric at her chest, the still-damp locks of her hair falling waywardly around her face. 
“I’ll, uh, I’ll close my eyes,” she snaps her lids shut, whipping her chin to the side so her face is turned away from him. “I won’t peek, promise.”
Sasuke chooses to believe the shiver that works his way down his spine is the result of the damp and the cold, and definitely not his body and mind traitorously reacting to the thought of Sakura choosing to watch him change, openly, instead.
She begins rocking back and forth as he makes quick work of slinging off his clothes. Her shoulder twitches under the blanket when his shirt falls with a wet smack onto the hard ground. He can see her visibly sucking in a deep breath when his pants follow suit. If he were not shivering from the low temperature, he is sure his face would be burning as he brusquely scrubs at his skin with a thin sheet, tossing that to the side before hunching, positioning his arm in front of his pelvis as he creeps forward carefully, inching around Sakura’s possible line of sight as he reaches to grab one of the blankets folded near the fire.
He tucks the fabric around him, relishing for a moment in the initial warmth before kneeling on his haunches as close as he can to the fire. As he positions himself, his shoulder brushes against Sakura’s and she perks up slightly, still turned away.
“You can open your eyes,” he murmurs. 
She swivels her head to face him, eyes blinking open slowly and fixing on his face. The green of her eyes is slightly marred by the orange glow of the fire, her lashes looking more red in the dim light. The flames glow is the only thing bringing color to her cheeks, her lips tinted with lavender in their pallor.
Sasuke stiffens, mind swirling with solutions to bring her temperature up high enough for the danger of hypothermia to fade. He considers giving up his blanket for a moment before realizing that Sakura would only expend her energy fretting and he would likely become sick with cold and burden her even if he managed to convince her to take it. 
“Tea,” he sputters, gnawing at his lip and blinking his eyes closed for a moment in humiliation when Sakura only tilts her head in confusion. “I’ll brew tea. Hopefully it’ll help us get warm more quickly.” 
“Oh,” she bobs her head vigorously. “Yes, tea. That’s a good idea, Sasuke-kun.”
Sasuke springs to his feet before she is completely done speaking, glad to be doing something useful, yes, but also to create some distance even if shuffling over to his packs near the cave wall takes him away from the warmth of the fire. He sucks in a few quick breaths, trying to calm his thudding heart as his fingers fumble for the small muslin pack holding his herbs. They are soaked and wilted, but hopefully useful enough to brew a decent, if not so flavorful tea. He holds the sack gently between his teeth, reaching once more for the light, steel teapot. He hooks the handle over his pinky finger and wrestles out his water tin before straightening with a small huff.
When he turns, Sakura is watching him over her shoulder. She offers him a small smile when their eyes meet and he nearly stumbles despite standing motionless. Heat makes a valiant effort to pool in his cheeks and he dips his gaze, watching his frigid toes as they tap across the rough, hard floor back toward the fire and his companion.
She murmurs a quiet Thank you, Sasuke-kun as he goes about preparing the brew. By the time the teapot is stabilized over the burning logs, Sasuke is left with nothing to do but to clutch his blanket around his shoulders and stare at the water, willing it to boil faster. Despite his own trepidation, he had sat down so close beside Sakura that he could feel her shoulder brush against his arm with every breath either of them took. 
His gaze wanders to the side for the umpteenth time in a handful of minutes, flitting over her pouty, chill-paled lips, the gentle arc of her brow and sweeping curve of her jaw. The freckles that are so faint in the natural light of the daytime seem stark, sprinkles of brown across the bridge of her nose and high points of the cheek due to how pale she has become. A shiver wracks through her and Sasuke tenses against the urge to reach out to her.
“Still cold?” he murmurs, pinning his gaze on her more fully. The fire was blazing strongly and most of the chill had faded from his own bones.
Sakura shivered again and scooted around slightly to face him. 
“Yeah,” she whispers, lips tilting in a sheepish smile. “It’s much better than before, though. I’m just a wimp when it comes to cold weather.”
As she says those words, a clap of thunder sounds, loud enough to echo into the cave. A whoosh of cold air sweeps in, causing the fire to bend and flicker before it rights itself again. Sakura’s teeth chatter.
“I’m sorry,” Sasuke-kun says, a frown creeping over his features. “I shouldn’t have taken us the long way around. I wasn’t expecting a storm like this so soon in the season.”
Sakura shakes her head quickly, “No, no! I’m glad you did, the scenery– it was a really beautiful route. I enjoyed it a lot. I’m sure that’s not why you took us that way, of course, but…”
“It was,” he interjects, clearing his throat when her wide, green eyes shoot up to peer into his face. He can see the flames dancing about her pupils, casting an orange tint in her iris. “It was why I…took the scenic route. To show you. I thought you would like it.”
“Oh,” she says quietly, the word more of a sigh. Her lips curve upwards again, into a shy, sweet smile. “I liked it. Loved it, really. The river and the flower fields were so beautiful.”
“Aa,” he mutters gruffly. “Good.”
He turns quickly, rising to his haunches to stir at the bubbling liquid in the pot, hoping the flames would cast glow enough to camouflage the red tint of his cheeks. 
Behind him, Sakura whispers, “Thank you for showing me, Sasuke-kun.” 
The spoon he is holding catches against the rim of the teapot with a loud clang as he grunts some unintelligible response. He can feel a blush burning from neckline to temple, but he sets about pouring tea into two travel mugs with the straightest face he can manage. Sakura’s thanks and her bright expression seem to replay on a loop in his mind; he is left wondering, briefly, if he had managed to capture the moment with his sharingan, not even knowing it had been engaged.
A quiet sniffle causes him to snap out of his thoughts, resting the teapot back over the fire and reaching to offer one of the steaming cups to his trembling companion. She grabs it with both hands, soft, cool fingers brushing over his before drawing back slowly. 
Sakura clutches the tea to her chest, shoulders hunched and head tipped downward to let the warm steam wash over her face. She sighs softly disturbing the whitish translucent stream rising about her cheeks for a second before inhaling deeply. 
“You make the best tea, Sasuke-kun,” she mumbles, leaning in closer and closing her eyes as she breathes deeply once more. “This smells nice. It feels good, too.”
Sasuke nearly chokes but forces out a quiet scoff, “You’re just happy because it’s warm.”
She lifts her head long enough to throw him a grin and a quick wink. Sasuke nearly tips over, fingers clutching tight around the mug that nearly slipped from his grasp. 
Pale, slightly chapped lips part, making a small o as Sakura begins blowing on her drink rhythmically. He finds himself mesmerized with the way her mouth puckers, the skin wrinkling slightly, soft folds looking like delicate petals. Her cheeks puff slightly, some of the color gradually returning to her flesh. It looks supple, so smooth and soft despite having spent time in the chafing cold. The fine hairs at her temples have begun to dry, curling slightly away from her forehead from the heat and steam. Sasuke has to bite the inside of his cheek to restrain the absurd urge to reach out and tap the rhombus on her forehead, the only thing that mars the perfection of the smooth expanse of skin.
Shutting his eyes, he lifts his cup to his lips, not even bothering to blow before chugging half of its contents. It’s hot, and burns going down his throat. But he mentally shrugs, because he breathes fire routinely and a little hot tea is not so bad in comparison.
The liquid is warm sliding down his throat, and he can feel it pool in his belly, chasing away most of the last dredges of cold from his muscles. Without his express permission, his eyes reopen and immediately come to rest on Sakura’s huddled form once more. He watches with apt attention as she blows gently once more, before bringing the cup closer to her mouth.
The metal rim rests on her plush lower lip, steam gathering at the top before she tilts the cup and slurps carefully, pulling the brew into her mouth. After the first tentative sip she sighs, humming quietly as she treats herself to a longer drink, tipping her chin back so that Sasuke catches a glimpse of the delicate column of her throat. It undulates softly with each of her swallows and his mouth runs dry, skin suddenly feeling rather hot beneath his blanket.
Bare skin. Just like hers is, hidden behind the thick layer of cloth. 
He swallows thickly, quickly throwing back the rest of his tea, hardly even tasting the earthy, if slightly bitter, flavor.
“Mmm,” Sakura hums, the sound between a relaxed exhalation and husky moan. Sasuke’s fingers tighten around his empty container. “That feels so good .”
She could have very well pulled those very words from his dreams, an echo of one of the many, many imaginings that had circulated through his psyche when he let himself indulge in the deepest, most unguarded kinds of rest. It was these same imaginings that would cause him to awaken suddenly, sweating and panting, aching so much that he would be forced to flee from whatever sheltering space he shared with Sakura to wait out the effects of his own torturous fantasies.
“Aa,” he croaks. 
Mechnically, he reaches to drain the last of the teapot’s contents into her cup, unable to prevent himself from openly staring as she repeats her process again. Curling into her own body, pursing her lips, blow, blow, blow , blow , inhale, exhale,  slurp, slurp, swallow. He watches as a deep shudder works its way down her body, her muscles visibly relax, shoulders falling away from her ears. A healthier flush takes residence high on her cheekbones, creeping slowly across the bridge of her nose. Her lips look moist now, more red than pink, soft and full with the blood finally rising to the surface.
She drains this portion quicker than the first, setting down her cup with a satisfied sigh. Delicate fingers come up and sweep through the nearly-dry strands of her hair, raking them back away from her forehead. A few chunks of her grown-out bangs slip down slowly to frame her forehead, and Sasuke’s fingers twitch with the urge to touch them, to brush them back and secure them behind the pretty pink shell of her ear.
“Thank you, Sasuke-kun,” she says, voice stronger and more chipper. “Your tea pulled me away from death’s door!”
“Don’t joke like that,” Sasuke snaps, mouth flattening. Sakura only laughs, rocking back slightly and adjusting her grip on the blankets wrapped around her shoulders.
“Sorry,” she snorts quietly. “But really, I was starting to not be able to feel my toes. My body temperature has always run a bit on the low side… I thought maybe I was anemic or something. Tsunade says it’s just how I’m made. But it really sucks in situations like this.”
Sasuke only nods. He runs his eyes over her with a more critical eye, focusing on the digits peeking out from underneath the blanket at her chest and below, at the ends of her small feet. They have lost that palish blue hue, to his satisfaction. 
Sakura continues, as always, so gracefully undeterred by his lack of responsiveness. “You always run hot, isn’t that right?”
“Aa,” he nods in the affirmative. “Uchiha thing. Didn’t think you’d noticed.”
Red fills her cheeks and she chuckles, rubbing at the side of her neck, “Ah, well, I’ve had to look at you medically quite a few times. And running your vitals, too! Your natural state is like a low-grade fever. You’ll be happy to know I finally put a permanent note on your file, so no one else will force you to go through illness screenings because of your temperature.”
Sasuke rolls his eyes, “It’s not like anyone else will ever be treating me.”
Sakura huffs, casting a disapproving glare at him that was more cute than ferocious.
“Sasuke-kun! None of our medics would ever turn away someone in need of medical care. It is against our code of honor.”
“Aa, I suppose they wouldn’t,” he says absentmindedly. Her flush has deepened and she chews on her lips in the most hypnotizing fashion. “But I’ll only ever want you.”
The words slip out of his mouth too easily, naturally. It is possibly the boldest thing he has ever said to anyone–to her – before but it feels so commonplace, so true , in all contexts, that he takes a moment to realize just how intense it is.
And by that time, Sakura has become so red that Sasuke fears for her health. He is caught between intense embarrassment and concern as she gapes at him for a split second, before clutching her blankets tighter to her chest and looking away from his face.
“O-oh,” she stutters, hands shifting under the fabric. “I’m flattered, then. And…I’ll always do my best to take care of you, Sasuke-kun. Whenever you need me to.”
Sasuke’s heart flutters then pounds in his chest. Always , he thinks. He knows he will always need her, but he has exhausted his bravery for the night and cannot bring himself to say it. So, he only nods, leveling her with a meaningful look, hoping that she will catch on to the things left unsaid between them. 
There are many of those things–but slowly, they rise to the surface and reveal themselves to the light. With each day, each evening spent side-by-side, he grows to know her and open up to her better. And she is patient with him, granting him the chance to meet her where she has already been at his own pace.
He is pulled away from the soft train of thoughts by a quiet cough, followed by a sniffle. Sakura throws him a small, light smile even as her hand rises to cover her mouth and she coughs again.
“You’ll catch a cold,” he frowns. “Here, take my blanket. My cloak should be dry enough.”
“No!” she seems to startle herself with the volume of her own voice. Her lips are beginning to tremble again, but she says, sternly, “Your cloak is definitely not dry, and I’m not going to let you catch pneumonia and die because you want to sleep with wet clothes on you. Keep your blanket, Sasuke-kun.”
Sasuke feels adequately chastised for a short moment, very close to being surprised at the tone she takes with him. He has heard it before, of course, usually when in the dobe’s company. Never had it been directed at him.
He is both amused and slightly pained by the experience.
Sakura shivers again and he forgets all about his wounded ego. He shoots a glance into the teapot, agitation gnawing at his insides.
“You’re cold again,” he states, wincing when the teapot is as empty as he knew it was. “At least I can brew more tea, though it’ll be weak…”
“No,” she interjects with a harsh exhale. “I can tolerate it, Sasuke-kun. I’ll just have to sleep it off–I’m tired anyway.”
The less than reasonable part of Sasuke’s mind immediately flashes to the worst-case scenario, Sakura freezing into a block of ice while they slumber. He submits himself to the idea of staying up throughout the entire night, keeping a vigil to maintain the fire as well as push his blanket off on her once he is sure she won’t awaken to scold him.
“You get rest, too,” she says. Sasuke nods stiffly, knowing he won’t. “ Seriously . If we spread out by the fire, it’ll be fine. Even better, if we…” 
Sakura trails off, pulling away Sasuke’s struggle against his newly developing morality which weighs the eternal cost of slipping Sakura into a slight genjutsu so she’ll sleep more heavily and not notice if he stays awake and gives her his blanket in the night. He tries to catch her gaze, only to find her studying the woven fabric in her lap.
“If we?” he prods. Her shoulders twitch and she hunches forward.
“Nevermind,” she mumbles.
“Sakura,” he says firmly. She flinches slightly but rolls her eyes. He has been firm with her in the past (many of those times to his deep regret).
“It’s silly,” she starts, sighing heavily. “But I was going to say, ‘even better if we lay close to each other’. Sharing close quarters means sharing body heat means sharing warmth. But, it’s not necessary and you burn hot enough already. So forget it! Good night.”
Sakura nods once, before unceremoniously flopping onto her back, then turning to her side and curling up in a tight ball facing the fire. Her form quivers slightly, drawn taut as if she is trying to staunch her reaction to the slowly increasing chill. 
Sasuke can only watch as she fidgets for a couple of minutes, bunching a portion of the blanket so it forms into a sort of makeshift pillow. Her body looks so small, curled up as it is, drowned in the thick fabric she has cocooned herself in. And yet he can still make out the small quivers.
With a deep breath, he turns his back to her, clicking his teeth at his thumb to draw forth a bead of blood. He summons three empty scrolls, unfurling them and tearing them into medium-large pieces with his hand and teeth. He can feel Sakura’s eyes on him from behind, but focuses on his task of tearing the thick, pristine paper until he has a hefty pile of scraps at his feet. Squatting close to the fire, he crinkles and stuffs wads of papers between the gaps of the burning logs. With a deep inhale, he breathes out a small stream of flame, urging the fire to lick higher, blaze hotter. 
Rising as smoothly as possible, and ignoring the eyes peeking at him from over the bunched blanket, Sasuke walks until he is but a single step away from where Sakura lays. He kneels behind her, watching carefully as her shoulders stiffen, her form ceasing any movement as if she is not breathing. 
He holds his breath, too, as he pulls the blanket from his shoulders, swiftly fanning it out so half of the large cloth falls over Sakura. Consequently, it covers her head and he uses that bare moment to dart under the other edge, securing it over his nude form just quickly enough before a pink head emerges and whips around in his direction.
“If lying close together keeps you warm, then that’s what we’ll do,” he says quietly before her parted lips can spew whatever words were brewing. “Sleep, Sakura.”
She looks as if she will protest, but he gives her his best blank stare. With a heavy sigh, her body relaxes incrementally and she casts only one more cursory gaze over her shoulder as she turns to face the fire once more. Sasuke clenches his jaw as she wriggles about under her blanket, and now part of his. A few times, he thinks her hip or elbow will brush against him, but she eventually settles, bundled tightly in both blankets.
A small yawn spills from her mouth before she utters softly, “Thank you, Sasuke-kun. Good night.”
Quicker than he thinks should be possible for any ninja, Sakura’s breaths even out and her body slumps, fully relaxed as she slips into slumber. He indulges in a tiny smile, shifting carefully until he is on his side, her back a mere six inches or so from his chest.
Sleep evades him; he is too aware of her proximity, her scent, the warmth of another body in his space. She is closer than anyone has been in a long time–perhaps ever in his life. He can smell the rain in her hair, residua of the herbal tea they drank. The scent of burning wood and ash tickles his nose, but still the sweetness that he can only name as Sakura reaches him. For a long while, he simply watches the rise and fall of her slender shoulders under the blanket, the shadows of the fire dancing against the small visible part of her cheek. Quiet snores begin to whistle through her nose and a sensation so endearing, compelling in its combined simplicity and intensity rises up from his belly, spreading through his chest. 
Sooner than he anticipates, his heartbeat slows from its frantic staccato, his breaths growing deeper and longer. His eyelids grow heavy, blinks coming more frequently by the second before the sounds, sights, smells and feeling of Sakura lull him, too, into sleep.
~
A violent shaking causes him to jerk awake. First, he notices the dark, only the barest of dim orange flicking in a sea of blackness. Then, he notes a weight against his chest, the cause of the quaking that drew him into consciousness in the first place.
It is not even an hour since he finally succumbed to sleep, he guesses. Yet the air inside the cave is frigid cold, heavy with moisture as thunder booms and wind sends rain thrashing audibly outside. 
Sasuke's eyes manage to focus on a head of light-colored hair, and he leans forward to peer into the face pressed into his shoulder. Pale brows are drawn tight, pearly teeth peeking between pale lips, chattering. A tiny whimper falls from that mouth and his chest grows tight.
He shushes her quietly, emitting an unfamiliar, husky coo as he reaches to loosen her iron-clad grip on the blankets slipping haphazardly on down his torso. The fact that he actually manages to free the fabric and himself from her grip (with quite a bit of effort, despite his desire to be careful) cues him into the fact that she is still asleep, albeit freezing.
Moving as swiftly as possible, he rises to his feet, situating both blankets around her as they have slipped down her back in favor of being clutched to her front. Next he stalks close to the dying fire, grabbing handfuls of his pre-cut, makeshift kindling and stuffing it over the struggle coals. He blows gently until it catches a tiny flame, inhaling deeper and pouring from his mouth in a spherical katon . The fire blazing strongly once more, Sauske returns to kneel by Sakura’s shivering form, hand shielding his pelvic area.
“C-cold,” comes a hoarse murmur. He jerks in surprise, activating his sharingan to peer down at her face. Her eyes remain closed, lashes fluttering but never sliding open. “So cold…”
His heart squeezes before beating wildly against its cage. Biting his lip, he fights against his own shiver as the cold creeps over his skin. Making sure to keep his gaze fixed on her tightly-drawn face, Sasuke reaches his hand out to Sakura, gripping her shoulder lightly before rubbing his hand up and down the side of her body. He hopes, desperately, that the brisk motions would bring her some additional warmth.
Shudders wrack her frame and he can feel the muscles bunching under his hand, fighting to curl even more inwards onto herself. She thrashes suddenly, rolling dangerously close to the fire, with her back turned to him. The blankets nearly unravel completely, tangled about her legs and covering her only to the hip. She cries out painfully as the cold of the cave bites at the exposed skin of her back, sprouting gooseflesh and bringing forth another violent shiver. 
“Sakura,” Sasuke breathes, snatching the blankets up over her once more. She struggles still, seeking warmth but preventing him from situating the blankets effectively in the process.
“I’m freezing, Sasuke-kun,” she moans, voice too sluggish and slurred to be fully lucid. “Freezing, freezing…”
Sasuke grinds his teeth nearly to dust. Before his logical mind can fully catch up to the action, he is ripping the blankets away from her form completely. Her startled cry does not even manage to echo into the cave before he is pressed up behind her, throwing first one blanket and then the other over both of them. He curls his right leg over both of hers, using it to drag her closer, nestling the stub of his left arm under her head and slipping the right between the two blankets to curl over her waist.
“Shhhh,” he hisses into her hair, exhaling heavily onto her neck in the hopes that his breath would aid in his efforts to warm her. “Rest. It’ll be warm soon.”
She sniffles, shaking and shivering as she burrows further into the blankets, further into his embrace. 
He endures a few long minutes of her wriggling, his mind torn between extreme concern, embarrassment and distant elation before she stills slightly and releases a relieved exhale. As if in a faint, her muscles loosen all at once, her body relaxing into his. He breathes in short inhales and long exhales, fingers clenching and unclenching at her waist, torso stiffening with each minute shift she makes as she slowly falls back into a deeper sleep. Her skin feels cool against his, and soft, so soft . Were he not in such a daze and so on edge from her frightening condition a few minutes before, he might have fixated on the suppleness of her waist or the press of her thighs in front of his. 
Instead, he focuses on the sound of her breathing, relaxing bit by bit as it filters through her nose easier and more slowly by the second. Eventually her skin seems to feel warmer, his own body growing quite hot with the weight of two blankets over him and another human body lying just so. He nestles impossibly closer, anyway, hoping to emanate as much warmth as he can.
Exhaustion grips him and he finds himself falling more deeply into sleep, irresistible with the weight of Sakura’s body against his own, and the feeling of her safe and secure within his grasp.
~
Sasuke feels hot. His skin is prickling with the sensation of licking flames, his blood simmering in his veins. The heat is centralized in his core, pooling low in his belly and radiating throughout his form.
He exhales, fingers clenching over something soft, smooth. The smell of jasmine, cherry blossom, her , fills his nose with each inhale.
Ah, this dream again.
Sakura is fitted snugly in his grasp, her back to his front. He can feel her hair brushing over his collarbones, the plush flesh of her buttocks cradled in his hips. Her thighs rest flush against his, a slim, smooth calf hooked around his knee. 
A slight shift causes white-hot pleasure to shoot down his spine, and Sasuke shudders. He feels as if every one of his nerve endings is at attention, soaking in the sensation of her skin against his, the breath expanding her chest and a slow, rhythmic motion rocking him back and forth.
The feeling of something warm, slick, soft slides over his shaft and he sighs deeply. His hand slips down, squeezes a plush handful of flesh before slipping back up to dance over her ribs. Her skin is like silk, his rough fingers sliding so easily. She shifts again, forward , back , pressing into him with a curve to her spine, straining against his grip at her front. It all feels so real that Sasuke nearly succumbs to the pull of a deeper slumber, tempted to stay asleep and continue to see where this fantasy leads. 
It is different this time. His surroundings are not so clear as usual– his imaginings usually for vivid, visually stimulating than this new, physical stimulus. A faint orange glow flickers at the edge of his awareness, a rustling sound like shifting fabric and cracking embers filtering in slowly.
He shakes himself mentally, painstakingly forcing himself into awareness. The dream grips him, forcing him to remain locked in his psyche where Sakura is clutched against his chest, where she is soft and warm and wet and…
Sasuke’s eyes fly open and he chokes on a gasp. The first thing he sees is pink obscuring his vision. Blinking away the wayward strands, he sees next a roaring fire, the rough cave wall washed with shadows.
And then he feels , a slow drag over his achingly hard member, slippery and hot, cushioned between two walls of warm, firm flesh.
Then he hears a sigh, sweet and underscored with a high-pitched wine.
“Sasuke-kun…”
A startled groan falls from his mouth as the dragging sensation comes again, and he drops his gaze down to the form in front of him, only partially shielded by a blanket that is bunched haphazardly about his waist. 
“Sakura,” he chokes. 
I must be dreaming, still. Sasuke nearly gives in to the urge to stay asleep when another quiet, gasping moan spills from her lips as her hips rock back into him before curling forward, his throbbing shaft trapped between her thighs. His hips flex in response to the motion, white flashing over his vision again before he shakes his head violently, willing himself to wake up .
“Fuck,” he rasps, yanking his hand away from its spot on her ribs, disturbing the blanket further with the motion. 
Red bleeds over his iris, his eyes widening as he takes in Sakura’s bare form. Her skin is flushed, glistening with a fine layer of sweat. Muscles bunch and ripple under the skin of her back, the knobs of her spine peeking through with each rolling grind of her waist. She writhes against him, her head falling back into his chest and revealing a face with features twisted in a distant expression.
Her eyes are closed. His, on the other hand, are definitely open which means that he is not dreaming. 
But Sakura…is.
“Sakura,” he calls hoarsely. His hand shakes, floating uselessly in the air as he attempts to control his ragged breathing, flinching as she makes that rocking motion once more and sends pleasure rattling down his spine. 
“Mm,” she murmurs, “Sasuke-kun…”
She’s dreaming of me , he realizes in a daze. His trembling fingers fall to her shoulders, squeezing more tightly than he intends as he attempts to rouse her with a gentle shake.
“No, no,” she murmurs, and his hand snatches away from her. Her thighs clench tighter around him and he sees stars. “Stay…stay…”
Arousal and heartache combine in a terrible mixture, swirling in his gut. Sasuke bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, letting his hand fall on her shoulder once more.
“Sakura,” he says firmly, making his voice as clear as possible even as the pace of his undulations increases, the wetness becoming more apparent against his turgid member. His pulse thunders, nearly drowning out her gasping whimpers and breathy moans. “ Wake up. ”
Sakura jerks, her hands fisting in the blanket that managed to get stuffed against her front. Her head whips in his direction, wide eyes falling on him from over her shoulder. 
The world seems to freeze around them as they both stare into each other with bated breath. The sound of the fire crackling and the winds outside seem loud in the silence, suddenly absent both their panting breaths and her unconscious ramblings. 
Her gaze darts away from his face for a flash of a second, flitting to their surroundings before swerving back to his. Her eyes grow impossibly wider and her mouth–Sasuke notes that it is moist, red and indented as if her teeth had sunk into the lower lip–gapes.
“Sasuke-...kun?” Sakura croaks, voice unsteady and breathless. 
He can only stare down at her, unable to form a full thought as he watches her glossy eyes blink up at him convulsively, her cherry-red lips plump and shining in the dim glow. 
“You were dreaming,” he manages to whisper, biting back a groan as a shudder works its way down her form. Even the slightest motion brings attention to their intimate contact, bodies still flush against each other.
“I- Sasuke,” she gasps, shaking in earnest now. Her chest heaves and one of the blankets slips to expose part of a full, pert breast. A dusky nipple peeks just over the edge, plump and distended and oh so… tempting.
“You were dreaming,” Sasuke raps, shifting his body and eliciting his own shiver as the movement causes friction between them once more, “of me.”
“I’m sorry,” she chokes. The flush on her cheeks darkens, her hands scrabbling over the blankets in an attempt to cover herself. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”
Her words cut off with a gasp, lashes fluttering as she twists her waists to escape from his grasp, the motion causing the head of his rigid arousal to slip through her folds. A low, rumbling groan finally rips free from his chest and she freezes, panting hard as she tilts her head to meet his gaze once more.
Sakura’s lips are sweet, soft between his own when he jerks forward to suck them into his mouth. They part on a startled exhale, a soft tongue slipping out to join his as she hums a quiet, helpless moan. 
Their teeth clash and sink into giving flesh, tongues slipping, sliding and thrusting in a frenzied dance. He delves into her mouth as deeply as he can, tasting her essence and the remnants of the tea they shared, feeling each texture, ridge, bump of the insides of her mouth. 
When his lungs burn for air, he retreats slightly, tugging her lower lip with his teeth to its limits, opening his eyes to stare down at her in a daze. Her hands have lost their grip on her coverings, one reaching up to tangle in the hair behind his neck and the other shaping the underside of her breast. 
As if of its own accord, his lone hand plants itself at the beginning of the luscious curve of her hip, tracing a line up the side of her waist. His fingers creep upward until they meet the hand at her chest, sliding over the obstacle to splay over the globe of her breast, relishing the weight of it and the tickling brush of her pert nipple against his palm.
Sakura moans softly, drawing him back to her mouth as her hips sway into his again, backward then forward. This time, Sasuke is lost to the sensation, to his instinct and curls his own hips against her, rocking into her once, twice, then many more times at a building pace. 
Soon she is panting into his mouth, their lips grazing against each other sloppily, hardly kissing at all. His hips snap against the round flesh of her behind, his member throbbing and dripping with her arousal and his as it slides back and forth over her softest lips. 
Sakura , his mind chants. And perhaps between the tiny spaces and breaths between their dancing mouths, he calls her name aloud too. 
“Ah, gods,” she cries softly, gripping her free hand over the one resting at her breast. She squeezes their fingers over herself and bears down on his shaft, slipping back and forth until he is nestled deep into her slit.
His grip tightens and he pulls his hips back as far as they will go without completely losing their contact– when he careens forward again, the very tip of his dips into what he can only describe as a well of pure, liquid heat before slipping forward and through her folds again.
Sakura’s hips jerk and she loosens his grip on his hair, her face turning away as she lets out a sharp cry. 
He freezes, even as she continues to undulate against him, trying to blink past the haze that had taken his mind the last handful of minutes.
“Sakura,” he says breathily, swallowing thickly as the hand that was in his hair tugs at the blankets until they lay carelessly at the edge of the fire. “Should we…?”
“Don’t stop,”  she hisses, reaching back once more to cup her fingers around his nape, pressing her hips back into his pelvis. Her breast presses more deeply into his hand with the arch of her back and he grits his teeth.
“If we don’t,” he pants, dipping his face into the curve of her neck and inhaling deeply, “There’s no telling how far I’ll go.”
His teeth graze the soft skin over her racing pulse and he bites down, sucking and nibbling at the spot recklessly. Distantly, somewhere his logical self is screaming, banging against the wall of arousal and pent up frustration to call for control.
Sasuke’s inner consciousness is silenced for good when Sakura gasps out, “Go as far as you can, Sasuke-kun. Take me with you.”
With a sound resembling a growl crawling from somewhere deep in his chest, Sasuke loosens his grip at her breast, sliding his hand over a muscular thigh and heaving it up, and back to hook behind his hip. Then he braces his hand at the crease between her thigh and pelvis, swinging his hips back until his dripping tip notches at the source of the wetness that has made them both slick and glistening. 
The barest flex of his hip has the head of him teasing past the syrupy rim of her entrance and stars seem to take over his vision. He blinks to clear his head, sucking in deep breaths and restraining the urge to careen forward and sheathe himself inside of her as quickly as possible.
“Are you sure, Sakura?” he manages to grit out, gentling his grip at her hip and nuzzling his cheek against the edge of her jaw. “Is this what you really want?”
“Yes,” she breathes. Her hips tilt back, she opens herself to him more fully. “I want you so bad, Sasuke-kun. I need it.”
His breath falls out of him on a shudder and he grips her tightly again, brushing his lips over her shoulder, neck and jaw in what he hopes is a soothing manner. 
“I’ve dreamed of this, too,” he murmurs, slipping his eyes shut as he slowly curls his hips, pressing against her soft flesh slowly until it gradually gives and parts around him. She lets out a low moan. “Ever since you joined me, every night you lie by my side…I dreamed of this.”
Sasuke’s entire body is trembling with strain, his member throbbing with each centimeter it sinks into her depths. Her walls flutter around him, her core squeezes and releases in maddening increments. The urge to slam the remainder of his length into her until he is buried to the hilt is strong, but he curbs that instinct, unwilling to cause her pain. He feeds himself to her inch by achingly slow inch.
“If this is still a dream,” he gasps, stilling for a moment as her inner muscles spasm around him, her body bunching tight when nearly half of him is inside, “I hope I never wake up.”
“Sasuke-kun,” she begs, hips tilting back and spine arching severely. “Please. Please .”
With a deep, shaky breath Sasuke slips his hand up her body, bracing her throat with his palm and cradling her jaw with his fingers. He opens his eyes, shifts to catch her glistening gaze and slides deep, until he can move no further. 
Sakura’s head knocks back against his chin on a loud, guttural moan, and his tight grip on his restraint snaps. 
Flesh meets flesh with loud, wet smacks as he rocks into her, gripping tightly at her jaw and pressing his forehead to her crown. Choked groans and uttered curses spill from his mouth as his perception of reality slips away, his mind only able to hone in on the sound of her rhythmic cries, the snap of his hips against her ass and the tight, slick grip of her sliding over him, again and again and again .
Sakura thrashes in his grip, hips knocking backward to meet his thrusts as her upper body arches away from him. His hold on her face, at her neck keeps her in place to receive each unforgiving thrust, his pace as wild and untamed as the fire blazing through his veins. When he opens his bleary eyes, his irises swirl, taking in and cataloging the sheen of sweat on her skin, the ripple of her toned muscles beneath. Her cheek is warm and wet with a combination of sweat and the tears trickling slowly from the corner of her squinted eyes.  
Sasuke moans deeply, curling his body over hers to drag his tongue over her face, lapping at the salty perspiration before kissing his way desperately toward the corner of her mouth. He wrenches her head toward him so he can plunder her lips with his own, thrusting his tongue against hers in a pace matching the way his shaft burrows into her core.
“Sas-,” she slurs around his lips, sharp nails fixing themselves in the flesh of his forearm. His hips piston faster, more forcefully in response.
She is everything he has imagined, more . A culmination of every one of his fantasies, dreams and wishes made flesh. A keening whine builds in her chest and she gasps out his name, a shiver wracking her entire form as her nails dig more deeply into his flesh and prickles of pain sprout where her hand tugs at the strands of his hair.
“Let go,” he grunts, half desperate as he laves the skin of her neck with his tongue, sucking the lobe of her ear between his teeth. He smells jasmine, sweet fruits, rain, Sakura and now him all over her skin. “ My Sakura.”
“ Sasuke-kun! ” her voice is a shattering cry and her inner walls grip him so tight white flashes over his vision. Her hips stiffen before roiling in dizzying circles and waves, nearly dislodging him from her fountain. 
A rush of liquid coats his shaft and both of their thighs between them and suddenly the heat bubbling deep in his core bubbles over, a tingle forming at the base of his spine as his hips snap forward once, twice before tunneling him deep inside the third time and pressing tight against her. His shaft throbs, jerking into her depths as he spills everything he has inside of her until he is sure some of his own essence leaks out to join hers between their legs.
They jerk and pant together for long seconds that could be millennia before finally the aftershocks fade, the muscles of his abdomen relaxing as she falls, weightless into his chest. 
Sasuke cradles her close, squeezing his eyes shut as their breaths slow and the final twitches of his muscles cease. He can tell the air around them is beginning to cool but he still feels flushed, their skin sticking with their combined sweat and fluids.
He searches for trepidation, for guilt, but can find none. Only a deep-rooted satisfaction warms his chest, creeping into his extremities until he cannot resist a tiny smile from curving his lips before he presses them to the flushed skin of her shoulder.
“Some dream, eh?” Sakura breaks the silence quietly, emitting a small, slightly shaky laugh.
Sasuke hums in response, sliding his hand down, between her breasts to rest over her lower abdomen. 
“Aa,”  he says, huskily. 
“Should we…talk about it?” she asks, her voice still breathless with exertion but carrying a tinge of hesitance that sets a fire burning in his depths.
“If this is a dream,” Sasuke muses, slowly untangling himself and relishing in the shudder that works its way down his lover's spine when he slips free from her core, “there are still many things to be done. We can talk in the morning.”
Sakura squeaks when he grabs her thigh and tosses her gently to lie on her back. Green eyes widen up at him, a deep flush spreading from her temples to the tops of her full, delicious looking breasts as he snatches a blanket, fanning it around his shoulders and then plants himself on his knees between her spread out legs. His gaze slips down to her soft, dampened pink curls.
“This part, I fantasize about often,” he murmurs dazedly, peering down at the milky fluid dripping slowly from her folds. 
Sakura gasps before crying out when the blanket billows over both of them and he slides down to plant his face between her thighs.
End.
Tag list: @zenonico @ephemeredoll @psalloacappella
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dojae-huh · 4 months
Note
I was hesitant to write this because I don't want to bring up this topic here…but I just want to share some thoughts…so please don't be offended if my question annoyed you…but you know, I was really shocked when I saw the news about Haechan being caught smoking…of course, he is an adult and I have no right to tell him what to do…and I'm not like a typical Korean fan who can accept drinking but not smoking…I hate both…but smoking is something I really despise…and it's not good for his health, especially since he's a vocalist. Everyone knows how it affects breathing and all…I don't even know what I'm writing here…ty and JN have already been caught before with smoking scandals and I hate that they do it…but Haechan is like a little brother to Doyoung, and I wonder if Doyoung has ever told him not to do it? I don't know for sure, but I believe Doyoung would never smoke as long as he sings and he prioritizes his health above anything else…like some people have said, if they're living together, wouldn't Doyoung try to make him quit smoking?nd also I knw dy is not someone to cross the boundary or force someone to do something ...but u knw hc consider him as a real brother so may be he stops becoz of it...aaaah I dont knw....I just cant stand still since I heard this news...it is killing me....that much I hate smoking...nd i didnt expected it is from heachan u knw...he should stop it…I just want him to stop it…I'm worried about him because I like him so much huh nim..what to do…😥😥…
You can do nothing but hope he'll make the decision to stop. And that he is only an occasional smoker.
It's normal that you are uneasy about it because you feel strongly about the topic. You have both the feeling of disgust (the smell, maybe the action (it does look stupid and ugly with vaping, heh)) and the hyper awareness of the health complications. And it clashes with your positive feelings about Haechan.
I also thought about Doyoung's apparent inaction. Knowing Do used to hang wet towels in his room, avoids drinking before performances, does vocal chords warm up exercizes, and is a fan of the very bitter propolis, I can't see him being OK with smoking. However, normally, when people live with others and care, they go to smoke outside (in case of kids, for example).
As for Doyoung not stopping the habit altogether. He can nag, he probably does, but he can't make people do what they don't want to. Haechan is an adult and not really Do's younger brother. Do can't act with force. He gave up on Taeyong, and all Tae did wrong was be late for practices. Which is a minus, actually, and can backfire one day. Like, if Do's friend gets into drugs, will he be able to take harsh measures? I got such thoughts. Tae is definetely a guy who can fall victim.
Smoking relieves stress. And there are enough things in Haechan's life that are stressful. Smoking can affect the voice, however, there are many singers who smoke and are still able to sing in their 50s (most rock-stars, probably). And there are many people around Haechan who give the bad example. Other neos, managers. Most people pick up smoking because others around them do it. Vaping is advertised as less harmful than sigarettes. Which might affect "stress relief vs voice preservation" pros and cons calculations.
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arcticlegend · 2 years
Note
Here's another funny one that's sorta smutty: A Vergil x Twitch streamer! reader scenario where the reader (can be gender neutral) finished a broadcast and Vergil walks in. Sexy times ensue but after they've done the deed, they realize the stream was still on 😬 🤣.
HERE WE GO! Better late than never!!! I'm always open for asks if anyone's interested!
Vergil x TwitchStreamer!Reader (GN)
Warnings: Smut
STAR STREAMER
“And that about wraps it up for today! Thank you so much for all of your support! I cant wait to see you guys tomorrow!”
You gave one final wave to your viewers and your sweetest smile before reaching for the off button, but was interrupted by the click of your door shutting behind you. You figured it was either Dante or Vergil since both of the brothers had keys to your apartment, though you immediately knew who it was when you saw the dark coat in the mirror. Moving one side of your headphones off of an ear, you turned to see the man of your dreams setting Yamato down onto the bed, resting it in the soft bunch of your comforter.
“Vergil!”
In a second he was by your fancy gamer chair, leaning down to peck you on the cheek, soft and chaste. He was warm, the heat washing over your face felt so good after being in a chilly, air conditioner room for five hours.
“How was your day today?”
You asked and in response, he sighed, rubbing a hand on your neck to massage the stiff muscles. It felt so good that you removed the headphones entirely and leaned forward so he had better access to that sensitive area. The dopamine flooded your brain at his touch just as it always did.
“It wasn’t terrible. Dante invited me to his favorite bar. He claimed it was the second best way to spend time together, as he put it.”
You smirked up at your precious devil, “What? I thought you weren’t a fan of crowds.”
He rolled his eyes in mock irritation, settling on a little smirk. “It’s a charming little place. There weren’t many people there in that hour, so it was… less obnoxious than I thought.”
You wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him close, already missing the way his circled over your aching neck. Still sitting in your chair, you were at level with his hip, nuzzling your cheek into him. You could smell the bar on his coat, though it didn’t smell bad, it filled your senses with the cigarette smoke, the tang of beer and bar-b-q. It was so… normal, though you could still find the clean, peppermint underneath. His gloved palm found your cheek, his thumb running over the bone beneath your eye, pressing in such a way that gave you goose bumps.
“How was your day? You seem to have had some fun.”
You pulled away from him, the leather of his glove grazing over your soft skin.
“I had so much fun today! Everyone was so great and the game was amazing! I had the perfect ultimate, Vergil!! There was one match where we won because of my ult and it was so exciting!!!”
He smirked lovingly down at you, a brow pinched in amusement as he let you ramble about your game. He would try to play them with you occasionally, but he wasn’t very good, so he normally settled for just watching. He loved listening to you talk, loving how your eyes got bright and passionate, how you sounded so confident when you talked about something you cared about.
“I wish you could’ve saw it, Verge! You would’ve been so proud! I-“
He caught your lips in a soft kiss, plush against your own, they moved together in a slow, intimate rhythm. You stood up out of your chair to meet him, wrapping your arms over his shoulders. His hand cupped the back of your head while the other rested at your hip as your lips smacked deliciously. It didn’t take long for your breath to pick up the pace and to hitch as he pressed you closer, grinding his growing need against your stomach.
“Someone’s excited.” You said with the cockiest grin, eyes sparkling with that knowing look.
“Too much time has passed since I’ve gotten to have you like this.”
Oh yeah, he was right about that and you could feel every bit of it begin to pool between your legs at just the thought of him stuffing you full.
He hoisted you up, a laugh tumbling from your throat as he dropped you to the bed behind him, leaning over you. He mouthed at your neck, teeth grazing over the sensitive skin as he ground into you, pulling quiet gasps from your parted lips. His back was to your set up, your legs spread and lifted up as he showed you what exactly he had in store for you.
“What do you want, beautiful?”
You looked down at him, his blue eyes shining with excitement as he began move back. Judging by the look on his face, he was hungry and he knew exactly what he wanted, already moving towards his prize. He leaned down, adjusting his body to have his head eye level with your sex. You still wore your favorite pajama pants, only wondering why for a brief moment before he pulled them off enthusiastically.
“What do you want?” he asked again, this time more demanding.
“I want you! I want… I need your mouth. Please, Verge…”
You didn’t have to tell him twice because he was on you in an instant, pink lips turning red as he sucked and kissed you, tongue laving over your most sensitive areas, looking up at you from between your legs. How could you possibly resist carding your fingers through his hair or resist the urge to clamp your legs on his face as he worked you up.
“Vergil! Oh my god… Fuck!”
He pulled back for a moment, lips glistening, “Feel good, my dearest? Do you want a little more?”
Dante looked over at his phone, noticing the notification that his good friend was still streaming. Normally her sessions ended around five to six hours, so out of curiosity, opened it.
“V-Vergil!”
He had you pressed down, his hips settled between your open legs, his cock gliding in and out of your lubed hole. You were a drooling mess as he pressed deeper into you, dragging over just the right places to set you off. He still wore that trademark coat of his, in so much of a hurry to fuck you that he didn’t even bother taking off his clothes. It was a rush, one of the few times you had a quickie this hot.
“You’re so tight… Sucking me in so good… My sweet heart…”
You wrapped your arms over his shoulders as he slammed into you, the clap of your bodies being muffled by your clothes. His breathing picked up a bit, hands sliding up your thighs to cup your ass and in this new angle, you felt wave after wave of pleasure crash over you,
“OH! Oh my god! Fuck!” The last word was drawn out, your voice shaking with each rush of his body against your own.
His lips met yours, swallowing your moans and for a moment, you thought you were going to cum… at least until his phone began to ring. The vibrations and quiet ring tone of violin and piano cut through your haze, distracted you from your prize. He didn’t seem to mind the phone, continuing to press deeper into you, trying to find the bottom of your slick hole.
Must’ve been Dante then… why else would he just ignore it unless he recognized the ringtone he set for his younger brother. Vergil continued on as if he never heard a thing.
“Was that important?” you asked, the question muffled into his lips as he tried to silence it.
“Ignore him. He isn’t ruining this.”
As soon as the phone stopped, it began to ring again and you could swear Vergil was going to pop a blood vessel.
“If you need to answer that, you can. We can just get back to it.”
He didn’t. Instead, he rejected the call and turned it off, tossing it onto your pillow. He gave you the cockiest grin before kissing you again, rocking into you as if he never called. It ignited the fire in you again, your need for release growing with every pump of his cock. He was feverish, the red that flushed his collarbone and the tips of his ears, burned as he picked up his pace. You could feel the way his muscles tensed, how close he was getting. It made you  burn even hotter.
“Vergil… you feel so good… so good, don’t stop!”
He took only a moment to adjust before fucking into you harder, hitting just the right spot. It was everything you needed, it was just what your body craved and suddenly you were on the precipice of your climax, moaning and gasping, desperate to fall off the edge.
“You’re gonna cum? Come on, dearest… Let it go and cum for me, won’t you?”
That was it, you were done for. Your stomach muscles tightened, toes curled as you peaked. Your orgasm wracked your body, your legs shaking as he kept going to chase his own release. It was heavenly how the light from the ceiling fan cascaded over his skin, giving it a warm glow rather than the cool pale it usually was. It was almost like looking at an angel, an angel that was pulling you up out of your body, like a drug. He dragged the pleasure out of you, his excited thrusts like that of an animal in heat.
“V…Verge!”
He pulled his hands out from under you ass to wrap around you, holding you close as he fucked into you with desperation.
“I’m almost there… fuck…”
You clenched around him, feeling the ripple of his veins, feeling his cock grow impossibly hard and his thrusts became shallow. He growled, teeth bared and eyes closed as he began to fill you. Shot after shot of hot, sticky seed covered your inner walls and you twitched with every helping.
“Darling… I love you so much…” you whispered sweetly to him, kissing his temple as he held himself up over you. A little bead of sweat dripped down from his forehead as he looked down to meet your ecstatic gaze.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered back, taking your lips one last time before the phone rang again. This time, it was yours.
“Who in the hell is that?” He ground out, teeth clenched with a scowl that could kill if looks could.
You reached up under your pillow to pull out your cellphone and saw that it was none other than Dante. It made you look up at the eldest brother with concern.
“Should you take this call? It might be important if he’s calling me too.”
Vergil slid his finger over the reject button, adamant that he wasn’t going to answer. However, that didn’t stop him from texting. When your phone pinged, his eyes darkened like you hadn’t seen before.
“What does he want!?”
You opened the message and what you read sent your heart down into your stomach. Fear churned in your intestines as you looked over Vergil’s shoulder at the webcam you had left on this whole time.
Hey sweet thing. You might want your private time to be kept private, though right now you’re quite the star. You’ve been getting donations out the ass and the comment section is wild right now!
“Vergil… The webcam…”
He looked confused as if he didn’t understand why that was important, but suddenly it clicked. Shrugging off his coat, he tossed it at the webcam, covering it so that he could prevent those perverts from seeing more of his partner.
“Damn it!” he said quietly, not wanting the camera to pick up anything else. You threw on your robe and rushed to turn it off, not even bothering to read the comments as you could only imagine what they said.
GirlGamrr42: What a god!
Reaperthighz44: She’s banging someone like that… jealous.
Ulquihime_67_: How had this account not been flagged yet?
NekoBeanie: Oh my god she left it on!
CwosauntLov3r: Is this what we’ve been missing?
Sylvester68686: ^.^
Dante had been trying to tell them it was still on this whole time and they ignored it… Thousands of people had just watched you fuck. Did they see anything? Did they see you naked?
His coat had been on the whole time, thank God…. Maybe they didn’t see anything too crazy. Probably why you hadn’t gotten banned yet, but…
He totally ate you out. They watched him suck you off on camera and though they might not have seen anything… they totally saw it happen and heard the noises.
“I’m sorry.”
He said after a while, just sitting on your bed as you stood there in your robe, staring down at the webcam.
“It’s okay, love. You didn’t know.”
He grunted in frustration and stood.
“If I had just answered the god damned phone, we would’ve-“ interrupting him, you pulled him into a hug, quieting him.
“It’s fine, dear. We’ll figure this out.”
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ymsliwy · 2 years
Text
The Ghost Of You
Shinichiro x fem!reader
Summary: Reader visits shin´s grave.
Genre: Angst
Warnings: mentions of death
Notes: english is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar!!
I miss your touch some nights when I'm hollow
It´s been five years, and y/n had moved from town, trying to forget her live, that was haunted by her past with him. It wasn’t that she wanted to forget him. But it was hard to breath when everything reminded her of the love she had lost. Today was his birthday and she found herself back in the streets where he was racing on his bike with his friends. She remembered him taking her with him one night, when most of the people were sound asleep.
And if you can't be next to me. Your memory is ecstasy.
“Lets go”, he had said, standing there under her window. “I´ll buy you a milkshake”. She could see how tired he was. That day he had no time to meet her because he was to busy working at his bike shop. But he still came even at this late hour, and he looked up at her with his big dark eyes expectantly, how could she say no. So y/n came down, he gave her his helmet. She refused to take it saying he should wear it but he just smiled at her saying she shouldn’t worry, that the angels are on his side, that he cant die. Before she could complain he had kissed her and used her dazed state to slip the helmet on her head. She complained but he didn’t care, he took her hands and put them around his belly and looked back at her saying she should hold him tight. That night she felt like life would be eternal the moment seemed endless and it felt like time would stay still. She felt the cold wind on her body and the heat radiating from him. They were driving hours that night, and she hoped that this moment would never end.
I need more time, but time can't be borrowed
But it ended and so did their story. Shin died a week after. And she was left alone. That day when she received the horrific message a part of her died, and with that did her future. She knew she would never love someone as much and deep as she had loved him, she knew that she would never be that happy again. She felt like someone had buried her with him. Because that’s how she felt, six feet away from living her live.  
I'd leave it all behind if I could follow
Five years later and she still felt disconnected, time didn’t make it better, it just adjusts you to the pain. You learn to live with the hole in your chest, that’s the only thing time does when you lose what you love.
Since the love that you left is all that I get. I want you to know that
Today is his birthday, or was, but she doesn’t like talking about him in past tense, for her he is still by her side or rather inside her mind. Y/n walked down the familiar streets that ones held so many of her dreams, and stopped at a shop to buy cigarettes. She didn’t smoke, those were for him. After that she visited his grave. Pale grey stone with his initials on it and his bones buried six feet under. She sat herself in front of his grave. “Hey shin, its been a while, wasn’t it”. she smiled sadly. Look what I got you. She lit the cigarette and coughed when the smoke hit her lungs. She laid the cigarette down on his grave. “Happy birthday” she whispered. A tear slipped her eye. “You smoked all the time shin, and I hated that you did it, I hated the smell of it. but when I smell it now, I only smell you, its funny isn’t it how everything is linked with you, I sometimes even light a cigarette just to pretend that you are standing next to me. Its been five years now, but it never really felt like you left. I can still feel you. People are telling me to move on, you know. To let you go. But you know shin, I don’t want that. I mean they are somehow right, I guess. Thinking of you does make me sad but when I remember you, when I remember us, I am happy, I am happy that I had you. and I am sure that we will meet again. until then I have to be with the ghost of you.”
If I can't be close to you. I'll settle for the ghost of you
The cigarette went out and y/n´s face was full with tears but she was smiling. Smiling about the memories of him.
She laid the pack of cigarettes on his grave and went, promising to return next year. And so, she went not aware of his ghost following her every step.
 I miss you more than life
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deedoop · 2 years
Text
Let It Be
When I find myself in times of trouble
Mother Mary comes to me
The first punch always hurts the worst. Never is quite numb like the rest that follows. Billy has taken many punches in his eighteen years of life, but these always hurt the most. "Why cant you just be a good son?" Neil spits as he speaks, it burns Billy's flesh in the worst kind of way.
Speaking words of wisdom
Let it be
He doesn’t fight back. Knows it’ll only be worse if he does. Max looks away, walks on by as Billy is pinned against the wall. He’s alone in this fight. Hes always been alone in this fight. The second punch never hurts as much as the first. He’s thankful for that.
And in my hour of darkness
She is standing right in front of me
Sometimes the burn of alcohol hurts worse than a punch. The memories it sometimes carries. The feelings. Sometimes he hears his mother whispering in his ear. “Let it be Billy, It’ll be okay.” And he believes her, just for that moment. Like he always did. Like he did when she promised she would save him. Sometimes the alcohol puts him into a deep sleep where not even dreams can infiltrate. It leaves him numb, leaves him sitting there in his room for long hours staring at the ceiling, hoping he chokes on his own puke. Maybe than it’ll be okay.
Speaking words of wisdom
Let it be
Christmas has never been fun. Never been anything to Billy but broken promises and busted ribs. His head still hurts. Harrington had done a number on him. Max had done worse. Had he become his father? Had he become everything he hated? He cant help but stop and stare as Susan does Max’s hair. When Max stares back, his stomach feels like its churning. He cant help but walk away, walk away before he pukes. Walk to his father and silently help place plates on the dinner table. He wonder what he got this year under the tree, maybe another broken promise.
And when the brokenhearted people
Living in the world agree
The gang avoid him like the plague. He cant blame them. He wants to apologize to Steve, hates the way his face is all black and blues. Reminds him too much of his own face. Steve’s face feels like a mirror to his soul. Blacks and blues. The locker room of the Hawkins High gym seems to shrink around Billy, seems to grow dark and dim with a spotlight on Steve’s busted face. On his chest. His arms. “Why cant you be a normal son?” The fight that led to his imprisonment in Indiana. The crime of kissing another boy. Steve Harrington glares at him, dares him to make a move, fists clenched, eyes full of rage. If Steve Harrington decided to kill him? Billy was pretty sure he’d let it happen. He’d deserve it for being so cruel, for falling in love with another boy, for becoming Neil.
There will be an answer
Let it be
Billy knows what to do. Knows what he must do. Drink and fuck until his body kills itself, till nothing feels real. Till he can hear his mothers voice whispering in his ear. He squeezes his eyes shut. Hopes she comes soon, hopes she carries him away. Jason’s party is so lame, the snow of January falls in heavy blankets, covering his Camaro as the party continues. Steve Harrington is laughing, enjoying a smoke, enjoying his friends. Tommy Hagan keeps trying to talk to Billy, but he cannot hear him, cannot hear him over his want for his mothers voice, of the swirling of alcohol in his head, of the guilt in his heart. Steve Harrington is laughing with some girl, flirting his heart out, the smell of dope heavy in the air. When Tommy tries to talk to him again, he pushes past him without a word, walks behind Jason’s house and sits on the snowy porch steps. Wants to freeze, wants to heal the burn and sickness that brews in his heart. The guilt. The love. The pain. He tilts his head up to the cold sky, his breath visible in the air. He hopes his mother can hear him. Hopes she hates him as much as he hates himself. It’s what he deserves.
For though they may be parted
There is still a chance that they will see
His mom was right to leave him. He knows that as he pukes his guts out the next morning, when his fingers shake and his head feels ripped open. Knows that as Max avoids him. Knows that as Steve’s face heals. Knows that as Neil breaks his knuckles on his teeth. He hopes she has a good life. Hope she has forgotten about him because one of them needs too forget. Max is a child. He can’t blame her, cant hate her, for just trying to survive. For just trying to be a child. How is she going to stop Neil Hargrove’s rage or his own self destruction? Yet there is a knock on the bathroom door and when he opens it, a water bottle sits. He isnt quite sure how to feel about it but he takes it and slumps down, hopes he either dies or feels better before Neil gets hope. He cant afford another broken lip.
There will be an answer
Let it be
He has let his rage go on so long he doesn’t know what to do when he feels nothing anymore. When all he can do is stare into space and think of the thoughts he was too scared to say aloud. When no more tears come to the surface, when no more rage or anger explodes, when all he is, is nothing. He wont become Neil, cant become Neil because his mom is whispering in his ear. “Billy, i’m proud of you.” He’s sure its the dehydration, the lack of eating, the lack of sleep. He hears his mothers voice and it breaks his heart and kisses it better all at once. He apologizes to Max first, goes to her room after dinner, when Neil is asleep, when Susan pretends to be. He sees her tense up, sees her anger, her hurt. “Max.." And he knows no words can truly solve the hurt that he has caused. That she had caused. That they had caused. The wedge Neil had driven. He promises to be better. Promises mean shit. Even he knows that. Its action that means something. He hopes they can be better. When he drops Max off at the arcade, she pauses, stares at him a long moment. “Thanks..Billy.” And next is Lucas who reasonably doesn’t forgive him. He wouldn’t forgive himself. He just hopes he can prove himself and have his mom be proud of him again.
And when the night is cloudy
There is still a light that shines on me
He goes to the mall, drops Max off, theyd been better as of late, listened to her whisper about Lucas, told her she couldnt ever tell Neil, to never bring him to the house because the neighbors would gossip. He doesnt want her to ever have the need to be numb, to hurt. He listens to her miss California, listens to her miss her father. “Be safe.” Billy grunts, he has his own motivation to be here. Not for cute girls or buying new earrings. But Steve. Last night, Max had apologized for drugging him. How fucked is that? How fucked was their life? How much had they ruined of what couldve been with anger? How much had he ruined? Only thing he could do now was try and be better. Somehow. So now he was here for Steve. Steve and his sailor costume, Steve and his eye rolls, Steve and his stiffening body as Billy walks in. Once more, Billy cannot blame him. “Two scoops of chocolate?” Billy offers, trying to smile. It comes off forced. “What? No threats Hargrove? No telling me to plant my feet before kicking me to the ground?” And Billy almost runs out. Almost cant do this. “I didn’t understand what was happening that night. I’m still not sure I do but we..I..I took everything out on you and..” His words stumble out like a million miles an hour. He isnt sure if hes apologizing for beating him up or fucking with him or- but Steve holds his hands up. “Quit it Billy. It was..a weird night and..just forget it. Max said you’re actually trying to be better. Just..water under the bridge.” And Billy laughs, really laughs. He never thought Steve the dork Harrington would be so..forgiving. “See you later sailor boy.” He doesn’t miss how Steve blushes.
Shine on 'til tomorrow
Let it be
He’s going to be better. Going to be the brother Max deserves. He’s not going to be his father and if he loves another boy so be it. Where else can his father run too? They already live in the middle of nowhere but at least nowhere has Steve who laughs at his jokes and laughs at his words and ices his cuts and bruises. Steve who he gets high with. Steve who believes him. Max who teases him about it. Max who knows too much and makes him blush. Max who sits in his room and blabs for hours about Lucas, about music, about Kate Bush. He can be better. He refuses to be numb any longer. 1986 was going to be his year.
Let it be, let it be
Let it be, yeah, let it be
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steddieonrepeat · 2 years
Text
Can You Hear Me Screaming?
Word Count: 2108
Pairing: vague/implied Steve/Eddie
Warnings: suicide attempt, self harm reference, weed, death, ambiguous ending, depression, drugs, angst.
Synopsis: Songfic based on Hold On by Chord Overstreet. Steve finds Eddie after a suicide attempt.
So far this is just me being sad but i might turn this into a multi part fic so just lmk if that something you would be interested in?
Not Beta’d :/ sorry
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“Eddie!!” the word was screamed in a hoarse voice as the front door of the trailer exploded open, banging harshly against the wall it flew into. “Eddie!” Steve cried, his voice forcing its way through the soft sobs that wouldn’t stay down no matter how hard he tried. Steve stumbled through the living room, eyes locked on Eddie's bedroom door. The door was cracked open only an inch, and although he knew Eddie wasn’t there, he hoped with all of his heart that when he pushed the door open he would find find Eddie sitting on his bed, headphones on and joint spiraling smoke into the thick air. He would have his hair back in a low pony, and that smile that Steve had seen on his face a million times before. He could see it perfectly, yet the illusion was shattered when his fingertips tapped the door open, the creaking sound filling up the silent trailer. There was no Eddie on the bed, no warm smile there to greet him, and only the faint residual smell of stale weed, likely a day or two old. The blanket on Eddie’s bed was crumpled in a messy pile, and the window above his bed was cracked in the way it had been stuck for years, ever since he broke it trying to sneak out when he was 17. The room looked completely normal, lacking only its resident. “Ed-“ Steve choked again, spinning around to see if there was anywhere else he could have missed the boy. There was only one other door in the place, Wayne having offered his bedroom to his Nephew after Eddie’s mom had died, a bathroom. A dull yellow light flickered underneath the door frame, as if it was calling to Steve, begging him to open the door. In only 2 steps Steve was jiggling the knob, dejected when the door didn’t open. “Eddie I’m not fucking kidding you better be in here.” he shook the door more, putting force against the structure, mentally begging for a response. “Eddie! Answer me for fucks sake! Eddie!” he threw his body against the door, his eyes locking on the way the wood splintered near the hinges. It took him a half a second to decide Wayne would forgive him, and if he didn’t, a summer worth of lawn work would be worth knowing Eddie was still alive. Steve launched his body back at the door, twice as hard, nearly falling as the door splintered off the hinges and allowed him into the dingy room.“They need you Ed- the kids, your uncle, me.” His voice broke. “please- please don’t leave me. you cant. you cant-“ he was interrupted by his own voice giving out, turning into a raw choking sob as opposed to his shaking voice. “I need you.” He struggled to shove his hands under Eddie’s body, an act that would easy if he wasn’t so distraught. He had to get him to the hospital as soon as he could. He had to go himself, the cops would take forever to get there and… what if they didn’t let him go with them and- his breath caught in his throat at the mere thought of letting the boy out of his sight.
He rushed out to his car, not even caring that he was getting his leather seats covered in blood as he pushed Eddie into his back seat. “For fucks sake if-“ he couldn’t finish the thought as he climbed into his own seat and peeled out of the driveway faster than he had ever driven before in his life. Of course, the Hawkins hospital was on the other side of town, as far as you could get. His eyes were barely on the road as he drove, too busy trying to watch the boy in his backseat, too busy praying to some god he wasn’t sure was even real to save his friend.
He remembered the first time Eddie had ever gotten into his car, jumping in the front seat before Robin could even squeak a protest out. He flashed the biggest smile, scanning his eyes over the driver. “You must be King Steve-“ he snickered, “a pleasure to meet the legend himself.” Robin climbed into the back seat with Dustin, all four of them headed to the movies. “Hope you don’t mind the intrusion, Henderson wouldn’t let me skip when I told him I had no interest in fuckin ghostbusters-“
“It’s gonna be a classic!” a familiar voice spoke up from the back of the car. “And we’re gonna be late if we don’t start driving Steve.” He rolled his eyes and backed the car out of the school’s parking lot. How little he knew at the time.
Steve’s car pulled into the Hospitals emergency lane going nearly 70 miles an hour, enough to have the few elderly people in the parking lot sending him concerned, albeit judgmental glances. He threw the door to his car open and scooped Eddie up into his arms, tears starting to swell again as he was snapped back into his horrific reality. “fuck-“ he breathed out as he felt the cold of Eddie’s skin against his own. It was Jarring how cold and frozen his nearly translucent arm felt. “I need help! Anyone!” He stumbled into the emergency room, knowing he probably looked insane carrying a boy who looked dead and covered in flaking blood. “Please-“ In a whirlwind of people and voices Eddie was whisked out of his grip, placed into a hospital bed and wheeled towards a giant pair of swinging doors. The doctors were swarming him, checking for a pulse and holding him tight in search or any fleeting sign of life. Steve used what was left of his energy to push past the nurse trying to ask him questions and reach out towards Eddie.
“Sir- Sir! You need to tell us what happened.”
“I have to go with him- I need him- please I need to be with him.” a strong hand placed itself on his shoulder, pushing him back towards the waiting room.
“get him some water and keep him out here. Marie- watch him.” A powerful voice commanded, leaving Steve no choice but to let Eddie be rolled out of his sight, the second scariest thing that could happen. He choked out a broken synopsis of what had happened, or at least what he could assume had happened based off of what he knew and had discovered. After that he was left alone in the waiting room with nothing but his thoughts and the silent buzzing of a static tv
His mind retreated back into his memories. The first time he had smoked weed, Eddie choking on his laughter as Steve sputtered and coughed from the smoke. The two of them had been reclined in the back of Eddie’s shit van when Steve had tentatively asked what it felt like to be high, a light blush darkening his freckled cheeks. He was embarrassed to ask, but if there was anyone to confess to, it was Eddie. Of course, Eddie didn’t even try to explain the feeling, he had just leaned up to his passenger seat and dug around for his shitty black lunchbox, opening it up to reveal several little baggies of weed.
“Here.” He had pushed a pre rolled joint into Steve’s hand gently curling his fingers around the younger boy's hand. “Hold it like this, and when I say go, suck, but not too hard.” How the fuck was Steve supposed to know what ‘too hard’ was? He had inhaled like normal, but ended up being bitch slapped by the smoke and ash entering his lungs. It had taken him three minutes to start breathing again, and had taken Eddie two more to stop laughing at him. They had spent the rest of the afternoon together, telling dumb stories and laughing at even stupider jokes. Eddie hadn’t made him pay for the joint, nor any he shared in the future.
He remembered the second time he had come to Eddies house, a stupid reason really, but he knew Munson would want his dumb vest before he had to go to school on Monday, and Steve really just wanted a reason to see him. It was already after dark as his wheels crunched over the loose dirt in the driveway. Eddie's van was parked off to the side, but his uncle seemed to be away at all work. Fine by Steve. He had hopped out of his car and jogged to the front door, the vest folded over his shoulder as he knocked. A few minutes passed with no answer before he knocked again, eliciting an annoyed groan from inside of the trailer. Steve rolled his eyes at the sound, waiting for the door to be pulled open.
“For the last fucking time I don’t sell to-“ Eddie’s voice was cut off as he flung the door open, clearly suprised to see his classmate. “Uh- Steve?” He closed the door slightly, trying to shelter himself, but the damage had already been done. Steve's eyes were trained on his lower arms where thin white lines were mingled with fresher pink scars. The skin was only barely visible, usually hidden under long sleeves or his leather jacket, but Eddie clearly hadn’t been expecting company. He was wearing an older t-shirt with sleeves that only came down 3/4ths of his arms. “What are you doing here?” He probably could’ve phrased it better, but he could feel the laser focus on his arm.
“oh… uh” Steve fumbled over his words, his thoughts moving faster than they had ever before in an attempt to come up with something smart to say. Brains was never his strong suit. “you left your jacket- uh vest- um your…thing in my car.” there was a beat of silence “are you okay?”
Eddie rolled his eyes, pretending he didn't know what the question was referencing. “My bad- I could have just grabbed it at school you know?” his face burned, hoping Steve would just hand it to him and leave. “thanks.” He jut his hand out at the other boy.
“yeah. yeah right. i just…” Steve suddenly felt stupid for making the drive. He clearly wasn’t welcome and had stopped by at a bad time. “thought you might want it…. now?” His voice was so unsure it was embarrassing. He grabbed the vest off of his shoulder and held it out. “well uh.. there. There you go. Bye.” He turned on his heel and got back into his car. On Monday, they acted like nothing had even happened.
Steve could feel the glare of the receptionist on him as he paced the room for what must’ve been the thousandth time. He didn’t understand how he was just supposed to sit and wait in a chair, left to wonder if he was ever going to see Eddie’s bright doe eyes or crooked smile ever again. If the receptionist wanted to strangle him, so be it. He turned to look at the shoddy clock on the wall, frowning at the numbers that showed jim he had already been waiting a half hour without the slightest hint at if his friend was still alive. He had been tempted to call someone, anyone really, but he knew better than to pollute Dustin's mind with the fear of his beloved Dungeon Master being anything but fearless, and the kids had honestly been through enough in their own lives. Robin was sweet, and would truly care, but he was certain he would lose his mind hearing her worried rants echo in the tiny waiting room for what could possibly be hours. And she never did really know when to stop. He didn’t have anyone but them to turn to though, so there he was, waiting alone, swimming in his own thoughts.
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