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costkappen · 1 month

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Best boy《CLxReader》

Tags....☆smut,blow job, sub!Charles, Dom!reader, no use of y/n,fluff,charles is insecure,reassuring

Warnings....☆smut!mdni, a bit of sad!Charles but nothing too sad or angsty

Word count....☆1795

A bit of a warning, this is my first time writing so it not the best,also please correct me if you find any spelling mistakes as I didn't proof read this,anyways enjoy I hope I did good!

He looked so pretty high up on the podium, his smiling face half covered by the shining Australian sun making his pretty blue eyes shine like I've never seen before.

After the podium celebrations I went after him and pulled him in the tightest hug ever

"Congratulations Charles! P2 and double ferrari podium, I'm so proud of you" his face lit up at my praise, something I've picked up since I first met him, he gloats over the littlest praise aimed towards him, even if it wasn't said to him directly, he has a habit of kicking himself down way more that necessary when the smallest thing goes wrong, even if it wasn't his fault he always finds a way to beat himself up over it, so over the years I've made a mental note to sower him with praises as much as I can. "Thank you chéri, I'm also really happy with the team today, let's go to my drivers room I'll take a quick shower and then we'll go back to the hotel"

The drive to the hotel was fairly silent, I didn't say anything to him but I saw how his lips twitched and how his grip on the steering wheel was so tight the tips of his fingers turned white. Yes he was happy about his podium, but there was something he was not telling me so I made it my personal mission to find out what was bothering him so much on a day that was supposed to make him feel like he was on cloud 9.

Once we arrived to the hotel the first thing I did was change into something more comfortable and then I went looking for him, "Hey baby" I said as I sat down on his lap on the couch "How are you feeling? You must be so happy, we have to celebrate with Carlos and Rebecca tonight you boys did such a good job"

The praise made him smile, still he didn't look like his usual self "Yeah I'm really happy Chéri, I think the team needed this win, I can't wait to celebrate with you all" then he gives me a quick kiss on the lips and looks at me without saying anything else

" Alright then if you're so happy then why are you acting like that?" "Acting like what?" He says with a nervous giggle as to make me think I'm just over thinking it. "Like you're about to cry Charlie, don't lie to me I know you too well." He then brings his hand to gently stroke my cheek, as if I was the one that needed comforting right now, "I really can't hide anything from you Chéri?" He let's out a sigh,his whole body deflating "I'm happy for Carlos, I really am, it's just that I can't stop thinking how it should've been me on the first step, not because I don't think that Carlos deserves it but because I've got the whole ferrari team and the tifosi rooting for me, and everytime I get second place instead of winning I feel like I'm letting down everyone, especially you" well I surely wasn't expecting that, yes I knew he had some troubles in believing himself, but I didn't know just how little he thought of himself, "Charlie I can promise you're not letting anyone down,and especially not me! Do you not know how proud I am of you? The redbull is been a monster of a car and so far you've been the only one to get as close to it as second place, everyone at the motorhome can tell you that, everyone is so proud of you even when you don't win we know that you could do so much more if we had a better car and if redbull didn't have a rocketship instead of a car,no one is upset with you Charlie" his lips were quivering and his pretty blue eyes were shiny and looked like they were ready to burst with tears, but I couldn't let my pretty boy cry on a day like this, not when he was supposed to be celebrating and happy with his amazing results, "Alright Charlie how about I show you just how much i am proud of you?"

I take his hand making him stand up from the couch "Where are we going Chéri?" He asks confused as ever "to the bed baby, I'll show you what good boys like you get when they've been so good" and as I make him get on the bed I get a good look at his flushed face, cheeks red and a little shy smile,

"I'll start slow okay?" He nods eagerly his head and I chuckle at his shyness, I start by prepping kisses all over his handsome face and I stop at his lips to give him a more passionate kiss occasionally sliding my tongue on his bottom lip, stroking his arms with my hand I could feel goosebumps forming, as I made my way to his neck I made sure that my kissed lingered a bit longer as to leave pink patches all over his neck, light enough to show but not too harsh so they would be gone the next day, as much as I wanted to leave purple marks all over him I knew pr would kill him if he showed up in public covered in hickeys, so just this once I'll refrain myself.

I could feel him shiver under me as I got to unbuttoning his shirt and I kissed all over his chest "Chéri please..don't tease me like this" he pleaded looking at me with his puppy eyes "What do you want me to do Charlie? I'll do anything you want as long as you ask me nicely " I was being a bit mean to him but I knew that he loved it when I took charge and teased him, "Please just touch me..anywhere I just want to feel your touch" his words make me melt, and how could I say no to him when he was begging so prettily "What a good boy you are Charles, asking me so nicely, don't worry I'll make you feel so good" He shivers as my hand gets lower, working on his pants to get them off, I slide them down along with his underwear as he raises his hips to help me get his pant off of him, I look back up staring at his pretty leaking dick, he wasn't the biggest but he still had the prettiest dick I've ever seen, clean and neatly groomed, I started tracing the veins that run across his shaft, that pulled a whimper out of him so I started using my tongue savoring his flavor on my tastbuds as I moved to his tip, clear beads of precum already leaking out "your dick is so pretty cha, so sensitive for me.." I look up at him smiling and circling my tongue around his tip "p-pleas chérie..take me in your mouth no more teasing" his pleas and the way he looked at me while he was making me go crazy, he just looked so good, still maintaining eye contact I took him as deep down my throat as I could go, seeing his face contorted from the pleasure gave me more confidence so I relaxed my throat and stopped when my nose hit his lower stomach, he tasted heavenly and I could hear his whimpers and soft moans, I bobbed my head up and down using my hand to stoke him at his base where I could not reach with my mouth, and he looked completely gone, eyes rolling back, hands gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turned white and he let out the prettiest moans, but his breath was staring to hiccup and he started squirming against the sheet so I knew he was getting close "what is it cha? Getting close my sweet boy?" I cooed at him getting my mouth back on him as soon as I stopped talking "mhh- Chéri please don't stop i-" He gasped and as I looked at him I saw his eyes roll back, he was completely blissed out "what is it pretty boy, Can't talk anymore? Am I making you feel so good your brain can't form words?" His breath hitched and he let out a shaky moan, this time I decided to not make him beg me to let him cut, he had been so good and he deserved it, so I started focusing on his tip, circling it with my tongue and sucking it harshly while my hand stroked him up and down as the other held him at his base,I was so focused on getting him to his sweet and deserved release I almost didn't hear him warning me that he was about to cum, "look at me Charlie,I want to see your pretty face as you cum down my throat like a good boy,just like that cha let it go for me" my words pushed him off the edge and he gripped my hair slightly pushing my head down on him, I got the hint so I took him as deep as a could and he heal me there, his loud moans filled the room, at this point I knew that whoever was staying in the room next to us hear him but I couldn't care less, I just wanted him to feel good, as i looked at his fucked out expression I felt his sweet cum filling my mouth, his mouth hanged low as he let out one final loud moan and fell back on the pillows, I slowly pulled him out of my mouth, took his face in my hands and made him look at me as I swallowed his cum, and he smashed his mouth on mine, sliding his tongue inside my mouth passionately kissing me, a quiet thank you.

"Are you feeling better now Charlie?" I looked down at him as he was laying on my chest trying to gain his breath back "yes- yes thank you chéri I'm feeling much better chéri thank you" He smiled and kissed my neck and nuzzled his face as I covered us up with the covers "well then I'm confident that you learned your lesson and will start to believe in yourself more yes?" I say as I start stroking his hair

"Well I don't know chéri, if that's what happens when I doubt myself I might just start doing it more" He laughs and hides his face in the crook of my neck, I gently smack the back of his head but I also laugh at his comment "I love you charles, you know that right?" "I know chéri, but I love you more."

#charles lecrelc #formula 1 #cl16 #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #sub!charles leclerc #one shot #formula 1 oneshot #formula 1 smut #x reader #cl16 x reader #cl16 x you #no y/n #f1 fanfic #f1

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explorevenus · 1 year

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something permanent ♡ yandere!leon kennedy x reader

nsfw (18+) - minors pls dni i will scream

this is a dark fic for a multitude of reasons. if any of the following bothers/triggers you, do not read: yandere!leon, stalking, kidnapping, drugging, corruption/training, forced daddy kink, noncon, forced breeding, body horror, gore, & blood

in other words-- DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT.

ahem. now that that’s over.

word count - 4.4k

description - nothing in leon’s life was ever permanent and his life circumstances made sure of that. over the years he was beaten down from a bright-eyed rookie police officer to a weary and angry shell of his former self. when a chance meeting brought you into his life, he knew what he had to do. he knew you had to be something permanent.

tags/warnings - yandere!leon, dark!leon, leon being patronizing and condescending and sickly sweet, fem/afab!reader, stalking, kidnapping, drugging, corruption/training, forced daddy kink, pet names (doll, sweetheart, princess, baby, puppy, etc.), noncon, forced breeding, housewife kink, body horror (spoiler alert he rips your IUD out with his bare hands), slight gore, blood, noncon, stockholm syndrome if u squint, dollification if u squint, descriptions of vomiting, no use of (Y/N)

a/n - ok i genuinely don’t know if anyone even wants this but i personally find it egregious how little yandere!leon content exists out there in this world because listen. i know a lot of people consider leon submissive and breedable but personally i believe this broken angry man just wants a sweet little thing to dote on and take care of to make him forget about the horrors of his life and he will stop at nothing to make that happen ♡ anyways. enjoy. and if it’s not ur cup of tea idc keep scrolling :^)

p.s. this is obviously a very canon-deviant, borderline crack fic so it’s not really established which leon this is outside of referring to the events of re2 being a long time ago, so go wild with your interpretation of that to read this as whichever leon is ur favorite ♡ i personally like to imagine post-re4 or infinite darkness leon !! ;w;

read part 2 here !! ♡

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ♡

-venus ♡

You were slow to wake, which wasn't particularly unusual... as of late, but your body felt so heavy, like your muscles had dissolved into mush overnight. Consciousness gradually took its hold of you, and as it did, you began to realize that something seemed off. Different. Wrong, even. You peeked your eyes open, vision blurry with sleep, but you could see you were beneath your pink comforter, a plush of yours held closely to your chest, all normal so far...

But your walls aren't navy blue, they're white... They're supposed to be white--

You jolted wide awake, panic coursing through your weak body as you struggled to even sit up. That's when you noticed an unfamiliar, muscular arm draped over your waist, and that dialed up your anxiety about tenfold. It was hard to move, but you were able to turn your head enough to catch a look at the man it belonged to.

Strong, blond, maybe a bit tired in the eyes... maybe a bit familiar looking... but you were crying now, blurring your sight all over again.

"Shh, shh... you're okay, sweetheart, you're safe now," He hushed, holding you closely to him as you struggled. Smooching the top of your head, he spoke into your messy hair, "I've got you. I've got you, princess."

But... how? The last thing you remembered was tucking into your own bed, in your own apartment, and falling asleep there, how could you have possibly wound up in a stranger's bed with zero recollection of ever leaving yours? Your head spun as you tried and failed to fend off the unwanted affection with weak arms. His hold on you didn't dare budge as he continued to coo softly into your ear, to reassure you that you were safe, that he wouldn't let anyone, or anything, hurt you.

The anxiety stewing within you finally reached a tipping point, twisting your stomach into tight knots, and that's when you spoke your first words since you'd awoken. "I-I'm gonna throw up," You wept, clawing weakly at the covers and, well, at him, for freedom.

Thankfully he was quick to act, scooping you into his arms as he sat up and rose from the bed, carrying you to the adjoined bathroom. When he turned the light on, you managed to get a better look at his face as you passed by the mirror, and it took you a second to recognize him, partly due to your state of delirium, but primarily because you only knew him very vaguely. You had only met him once at work many months ago, when he'd sparked up a conversation with you as you made him his coffee. After that, he became a regular at the café you worked at-- you remembered his name was Leon.

So why were you waking up in his bed, with your belongings lying around like you'd lived here the whole time?

Your knees hit the tile and you began retching immediately, flinching as he reached forward to collect your hair away from your face. Puking on an empty stomach is never a fun time, but your nerves were alight with panic and every time you reminded yourself of your predicament, a new wave of nausea would crash over you. He rubbed your back sweetly, but it didn't help.

Once the vomiting eventually subsided, an awful, hollow pain took place of it. Your thoughts were running at a thousand miles per hour. You didn't have the time to acknowledge it, let alone nurse it, outside of clutching your shirt at the waist.

"Let me get you some water, babe," Leon said as he hesitantly stood from your side, eyeing you worriedly like you'd just fall to pieces if he let you out of his sight. "You poor thing..."

But all you could think about was getting out of here. "N-No, no, what time is it? I have to get to work--"

"I don't think so, sweetheart," He interrupted. "You're sick, you should be in bed."

"I'm fine," Much to the protest of your jellied legs, you pushed yourself up from the floor and fought through the head rush in an attempt to slip past him, but he simply caught you at the waist and brought you to a halt. Your ears were ringing, the room spinning around you, and you still weren't sure how to interpret what was even going on here. "L-Let go of me!" You cried out.

He simply hushed you, holding you tightly to his chest and petting your hair as you writhed, failing miserably to get him off of you. "Don't worry about work, okay? Just rest up and get better. I'll call them for you."

Your stomach sank even further-- what the fuck is happening right now?

Despite your thrashing he managed to lead you back to the bed as gently as one would fine china, scooping you up into his arms so he could lay you down exactly where you'd awoken earlier. Your chest heaved with sobs as you shrank into yourself in an effort to get away from him.

His eyes left you for just a moment as he reached for the covers, no doubt to tuck you in-- in a split second decision, you seized that time to scramble out of his bed and break for the door. Sadly, as perhaps you should have seen coming, he was more than strong and fast enough to catch up to you, even caught off guard. As soon as your shaking hand made contact with the cool metal doorknob, he halted you where you stood with a bruising grip on your bicep.

You cried out, trying in vain to peel yourself away from him, but it was no use.

"Come on, silly baby, you heard me," He tsked, dragging you back toward the bed. "No need to be running off anywhere, especially on a sour stomach."

"P-Please--" You gasped through tears.

"I'm sorry, little one, but that's final," Leon hummed with a patronizing but oddly sweet tone. It was as if he were scolding a temperamental child.

He basically wrestled you back into the bed, enveloping you tightly in his arms as he laid down beside you. You struggled against his grasp, but again, it was absolutely no use. He simply pet your hair and pressed soft kisses along your cheek and jaw, attempting to soothe you with restraint and unwanted affection.

You sucked in a labored breath, hiccupping, "Don't do this to me, please don't do this to me... I-I just wa-wanna go home, jus' wanna go h-home... Leon please--"

"Shh... oh, good heavens. You are home, princess," He mused, brushing away a stream of your hot tears with his thumb. "You'll see. Just relax and let me take care of you."

Nothing in Leon's life was ever permanent.

All he'd ever wanted was the American dream, to serve his community and meet a pretty girl to share his life with, to settle down in a big house with a fenced yard and two or three little Kennedys running around, maybe a dog. What he wouldn't give to come home at the end of a long day to his beautiful wife, belly swollen with his children, preparing dinner in the kitchen while the existing little ones play with their toys in the other room.

He would enter, slipping off his shoes with a relaxed sigh and a "Honey, I'm home!" to which the aforementioned little ones would rush to the door to hug him at his knees. He'd put one up on his shoulders while the other tugged at his hand, turning into the kitchen to give his beautiful wife a kiss. She would ask of his day and he would say it was good, but better now that he's home with her. With his free hand he would cradle her belly and ask "What's for dinner, you two?" to which she would reply "Your favorite," and as he smiled and thanked her with a kiss he would be silently plotting to thank her properly after the kids are asleep by fucking her full of his cum.

That was all he'd ever wanted. But, day after day after god forsaken day, the chance grew slimmer and slimmer until it had shriveled into something molecular. He didn't even get through his first day at the police station before everything went to shit.

Because of this, Leon began to lose himself over the years. He was no longer the bright-eyed rookie officer looking forward to his even brighter future. He was a broken man, worn down to the bone by years of death, plague, losing everyone he'd ever loved in one way or another-- Leon couldn't take the loss anymore. He wanted-- no, needed-- something permanent, something to give him even the slightest taste of that dream he once had.

When he met you, it wasn't even a question anymore. He knew you were the one. One way or another, he would have you.

He couldn't court you in the traditional way, of course-- it was too dangerous for you to be seen with him. After all, everything he'd ever touched had a way of turning to shit. So, it began with following you home after work so he'd know where you lived. Soon after that he would let himself in when you weren't home-- you weren't smart enough not to keep your key under the mat, furthering how sure he felt that you needed him to take care of you-- he would take little things of yours home with him just to have your scent around.

At first it was just little things like near-empty bottles of shampoo and stray pairs of panties from your laundry basket. Then it was sweaters from your closet, chewed gum and used flossers from your trash can. He'd pay close attention to your grocery lists and what you kept in your pantry so he'd know what kind of food you liked.

When you did come home, he would sneak out quietly and watch you through your windows, familiarizing himself with your routine. The first thing you'd do when you came home from a long day of work was kick off your heels and change into something comfortable to do your yoga. After a while, you'd pull yourself up from the pink mat and cook dinner. After you'd eat, you'd relax with a book or a video game for a bit before taking a shower and changing into pajamas. Then, you'd brew yourself a mug of tea and retire to the bedroom for the evening where you'd watch documentaries or put on white noise until you eventually fell asleep.

At 7:00 a.m., you'd wake up in the morning and do it all over again.

All he could think about was what he'd do when he finally had you all to himself. Under his roof, you would never have to work another day in your life. Gone would be the days of pouring coffee and baking pastries for random idiots who treated you like shit. All you would ever have to worry about is being pampered, having your entire day to yourself, waiting for him to come home, spending all the money on his credit cards.

And carrying his children, of course.

So, as he held you tightly in his arms while you sobbed and begged to go back to that tiny apartment, all he could think about now was how to fix this. How to convince you he really loved you, how to make you feel truly at home.

The first few weeks were hard for him. Really, really hard.

You were refusing to eat, laying wide awake at night, swinging rapidly between sobbing, screaming and complete apathy. Sometimes he would come into the bedroom and catch you fiddling with the window, or attempting to circumvent the lock on the door by stuffing the mechanism with tissue. You would hit him, kick at him and spit in his face, even as you grew weaker and weaker with malnourishment, not that you really stood a chance before that anyway.

Still, it was hard to watch you shrink in your clothes. It was hard to see your cheeks hollowing by the day. It was hard to hold back your brittle hair while you'd vomit from the nerves, still trying to fight him off of you. It was hard to watch your body tense every time he entered the room.

Just when he'd began to lose hope, he discovered a neat little tool to help you behave. In some countries it was called "devil's breath." The slightest bit of powder could be sprinkled into your water, or over your food, or even into your clothes-- it absorbs through the skin-- and within minutes it would render you quite pliable. Leon didn't want to drug you, of course-- he liked you better when you were lucid-- but it certainly felt like a good place to start, a helpful tool to train you.

When he'd give you a dose, you would let him coddle you without incident. You would lay limp on his chest while he played with your hair and felt your soft skin beneath your shirt. You would allow him to spoon food or tip water into your mouth. You would let him dress you up like his perfect little dolly. You would blush and whimper and whine, and more importantly, not fight him, while he fucked you full of his cum, just like his dream.

There was just one problem-- after about two months of trying daily, it would seem his seed wasn't taking.

Your heart pounded in your ears as the sound of Leon's footsteps nearing the bedroom door grew louder. You glanced over at the clock-- it was 6:15. He was off work for the evening and you knew what that meant.

The lock clicked quietly before the door creaked open, revealing your captor.

"Honey, I'm home!" He smiled excitedly, approaching the bed with a glass of water in hand.

You knew it was for you. You knew he had done something to it. You also knew you didn't intend to drink it.

"W-Welcome home, daddy," You said in a near whisper, forcing a half-smile. While you had definitely lost the majority of the fight in you, that didn't mean it didn't nauseate you to comply with his wishes. "Did you have a good day?"

Tucking your hair behind your ear, he offered you the glass of water while he replied as he always did, "My day was fine, but it's so much better now that I'm home with you, princess."

You smiled at him like it was the first time he'd ever said it, taking the glass with a shaking hand. You stared at it for a moment before mustering up the courage to say, "D-Daddy, I don't want the medicine anymore. I don't think I need it, and it doesn't make me feel good."

"You don't want your medicine anymore, baby?" He asked, tipping your chin up to look at him. You shook your head, rounding your eyes to convince him that much more. "Well, alright, but you have to promise to behave for me."

Now you were nodding, a little bit too eagerly. It was sort of humiliating. "I promise, daddy, I'll behave! I don't want the medicine anymore. I promise I'll be good."

With a proud grin he took the glass from your hand and set it on the nightstand, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "That's what I like to hear, babydoll. You know, good little girls get rewarded..." His large hand spread over your thigh, inching up toward the hem of your baggy shirt.

You stiffened, but didn't push him away. He smirked, dipping his head down to kiss at your neck, large hand sliding up your shirt until he nudged it up enough to pull it off. You were bare for him now, save for panties, and given your experience with him you knew it wouldn't be long until those were discarded somewhere across the room. With a gentle hand at your shoulder he pushed you onto your back, your legs hanging off the side of the bed, and you were curious where he was going with that until he sank to his knees in front of you and began pulling your panties down.

Your eyes screwed shut, thankful that he couldn't see your face as he spread your thighs and greeted your cunt with a slow lick up the length of you. You gripped the sheets with white knuckles, pretty much holding your breath to keep yourself from kicking him away from you. His fingertips buried into the plush skin of your thighs to hold you apart as he began to eat you out more passionately, suckling your clit up into his mouth and lapping at your hole like he was starving.

If there was one thing you would give him credit for, it would be his skilled tongue. Perhaps he was crazy and obsessed, but he certainly knew how to translate that obsession into something that benefitted you both. You wouldn't have succumbed to it so willingly if he weren't at least good at it.

Still, it was hard to feel any enthusiasm. His attention might have felt good physically, but it certainly didn't feel good mentally.

You flinched when you felt a fingertip prodding at your cunt. He pulled away just far enough to tsk, "Relax and let me make you feel good, puppy. You said you would behave for me."

"Y-Yes, daddy," You muttered, continuing to clutch the sheets as you tried to control your breathing.

His thick index finger sank into you down to the knuckle, almost immediately curling up to brush against the spongy spot within you that made you see stars. As much as you tried to fight it you gasped, quickly bringing a hand up to cover your mouth, but the sound you'd made hadn't slipped past Leon. You felt him smirk against your skin as he pressed sloppy kisses to your thigh, reaching up with his free hand to force yours away from your face.

"Don't be shy, princess," He spoke against the inside of your thigh, trailing kisses up to your clit. "I want to hear just how good it feels."

You whimpered, hips squirming into his affection, and he chuckled approvingly, bringing his mouth back to you fully to continue eating you out while he fucked his finger into you. Soon after his index finger was joined by his middle, and you keened as he reached more deeply into you than he possibly ever had.

He pumped his fingers in and out for a moment, alternating between lapping at your cunt and kissing your thighs, and just as the coil inside began to tighten he suddenly... stopped?

You waited for a second, catching your breath, expecting him to continue any minute. But he didn't. Instead, he took on a tone that froze your blood as he asked, "Sweetheart, what is this?"

Then, you felt a sharp tug at your insides that made you yelp.

"Leon!" You shouted at him in a break of character, attempting to scoot away from him, but he grabbed your hips to still you. "That hurt!"

Another tug. You cried out, trying as you might to snap your thighs shut and push him away, but he wasn't budging.

"You never told me you had an IUD."

"Well, I do, so stop yanking on it! It hurts--"

The next words out of his mouth truly fucking broke you.

"That just won't do. It's no wonder you're not pregnant yet."

You sat up immediately. "Pregnant?"

He ignored you, tugging at it again. You screamed.

"L-Leon, don't! I can get it taken out by a doctor, I swear, I'll get it taken out!"

He shook his head. "And wait even longer to knock you up, pretty girl? Not happening. It's coming out now."

You screamed again, thrashing in his hold. He withdrew from inside you for just a moment, pinning you to the bed by your hip while he reached for your panties on the floor and shoved them into your mouth to silence you.

"There, there, angel. It'll be over before you know it, like ripping off a band-aid," He hummed, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you screeched through the cotton. "I'm gonna give you my babies, I promise. Gonna make you a mommy, and we’ll be so happy."

Before you could properly react he forced his fingers back inside you, yanking at the device until you felt a sickening tear and the unmistakable heat of blood rushing out of you. You curled into yourself, wailing, gasping for breath through the panties in your mouth as he withdrew his blood-soaked fingers, holding up the gory IUD in the light.

"There you are, princess. All better," He smiled contently, discarding the device on the bedside table. "You did so good. You were so brave for me."

You were bawling, shrieking through your gag as your vision blurred into white. Leon kissed up your thighs before standing to unbuckle his belt, and he didn't get much further than that before the panic and agonizing pain got to you and you lost consciousness.

You woke up the next morning with your thighs sore and sticky with blood. You lifted the comforter to see a deep red pool seeping out from between your legs, and the more you started to wake up, the more aware you became of the pain. You were cramping terribly, sweating buckets, your ears were ringing and you felt weak. Leon had left for work already, so it was up to you to get yourself to the bathroom.

Your entire body was trembling as you stumbled out of the bed, dripping blood in a trail behind you as you dragged yourself to the bathroom and crawled into the bathtub. You peeled off your pajama shorts and panties, watching in horror as a mixture of thick blood and cum spilled out of you and ran slowly toward the drain. Once again, you began to cry. Obviously he'd had his way with you after you passed out, buckets of blood be damned.

Even with your foggy, staticky brain, you couldn't stop thinking. Thinking about the fact that he had no intention of taking you to a hospital, so there was really no telling what might happen with your profusely painful and bleeding sex. Thinking about how fucking screwed you were now without your IUD, your best defense against falling pregnant with your captor's child. Thinking about the fact that if he wouldn't even take you to a doctor for this, he must be expecting a home birth if you were to become pregnant, which you doubted he was qualified to handle and therefore had a very good chance to result in your slow, painful death.

You couldn't stand the shivering anymore, so you filled the bathtub with hot water. It felt nice, though it was rather gross that the water was stained a glassy rose color with your own blood, not that you really had the strength to care in the moment.

In fact, you didn't have much strength at all. It wasn't long before you found yourself losing consciousness once again.

"Fuck, princess, can you hear me?"

You were trying to open your eyes, to twitch a finger, anything, but it was so hard.

"Shit. Stay right here, babydoll, I'm gonna get you some help, okay? I promise. I never meant to hurt you... shit...”

You heard some shuffling, pacing and possibly Leon talking to himself in the other room. You figured he was trying to decide whether or not to take you to a hospital. Part of you hoped he would and the other part of you hoped he would just let you die there. More than anything, you just wished you would have let him drug you in the first place so maybe you wouldn't be in this level of pain.

After what could have very well been 20 seconds or 20 minutes, Leon kneeled beside the tub and draped a cold washcloth over your forehead, reaching into the bloodied water to pull the drain. With what little control you had over your own movement you managed to crack your eyes open, which seemed to please him.

"Oh thank god... thank god, baby. I almost thought I lost you there," He huffed, voice shaking. "Listen to me closely, princess. Stay with me. I'm going to take you to a doctor but you have to be a good girl, okay? You have to be good for me and go along with what I say, even if it isn't true. I'm just doing what's best for you so you can get all better, okay?"

You nodded weakly. You weren't in any position to put up a fight, and all you really wanted was an end to the pain. Besides, he couldn't supervise you constantly at the hospital. There had to be at least some opportunity to tell someone what he'd done to you.

He somehow managed to dress you in some comfortable clothes of his, a soft black t-shirt that hung halfway down your thighs and a pair of black shorts with some little socks of yours to protect your feet. Then, he carried you princess-style out to the car where he bundled you up in the passenger seat and buckled you in.

As he pulled hurriedly out of the driveway, he made a phone call to someone.

"Hey, it's me... I need the best people we have in the infirmary, stat. I'm on my way now," He spoke sternly into the phone, white knuckling the wheel. "I'm fine, it's not for me, it's my girlfriend. It's a long story that I'll tell you when I get there, but she's bleeding pretty bad. I found her unconscious when I came home... I appreciate it, thanks. See you in 10."

Leon reached over the center console to squeeze your thigh in reassurance.

"You're gonna be just fine, princess. I'm gonna make sure they make you all better, okay?"

Your stomach sank. He obviously wasn't taking you to a hospital. From the sounds of it he was taking you somewhere he had a good amount of leverage, somewhere everyone knew him, held him in high regard and wouldn't dare challenge his word, let alone take yours over his. You slumped to the side, resting your head on the cool window with a quiet bonk. Leon was quick to ask if you were okay but you couldn't muster up a response. Your ears began ringing again and the world around you collapsed into tunnel vision.

part 2 !!

#venustext #sintext #resident evil #leon kennedy #yandere!leon kennedy #dark!leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #yandere!leon kennedy x reader #dark!leon kennedy x reader #dead dove do not eat #something permanent

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danaewrites · 8 months

Text

you with the dark curls (you with the watercolor eyes)

part i: and while you were asleep, i was surely awake

james potter x reader // read it on AO3

word count: 2.8k

summary: “Falling in love with your best friend was never a good idea, but you’d managed to do the idiot thing anyway, carrying a torch for a boy who would never look past Lily’s emerald eyes to see the watercolor ones that had always been by his side.”

tags: best friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, based on the song "dear arkansas daughter" by lady lamb, fem!reader

author's notes: hii y'all, sorry for not posting in a year :P my only excuse is that i didn't feel like taking the energy to actually write out my story ideas. also perfectionism. anyway i somehow wrote this in two hours while procrastinating my college app essays and have plans to make this a multi-chapter fic despite intending to write an angsty oneshot request for a completely different fandom (i see you, beloved anons, and i raise you this completely unrelated fic <3)… the brain of a writer works in mysterious ways.

read it all here: part i, part ii, part iii (coming soon!)

You were in love with James Potter.

It was a fact of life, just like how the sky was blue, or that his favorite dessert was treacle tart, or that you were the only person he’d ever let see him cry besides his mother. You’d loved him from the moment you met him on the train to Hogwarts as a shy, anxious muggleborn unsure of the new world of magic and prejudice you’d been thrown into without so much as a warning. He hadn’t cared at all about your blood status- didn’t even think to ask about it. He had launched himself into your compartment and began talking at you a mile a minute, beaming with every tooth showing once he found out you were hoping to get into Gryffindor, his hazel eyes alight with the joy of making a new friend. And friends indeed you had become; you were proud to remember that you’d known him before Sirius or Remus or Peter did, though it took only an instant after the Sorting for him to become best mates with the rest of them, too.

You and James were inseparable from that moment on, giggling at Professor Binns’ failure to notice Sirius’ antics in the back of class and reassuring each other when home seemed too far away for comfort. He stole sweets from the Slytherin table for you at meals, and you covered for him when the teachers almost caught him pranking Snape– after all, who would believe that sweet, innocent Y/n would ever be involved in such shenanigans? The soft-spoken demeanor and love of everything pastel you’d thought would eventually oust you from the close-knit Gryffindor boys’ group proved to be quite the useful asset when affirming their ‘innocence’.

Not that they only wanted you around because you were helpful, of course. You had quite the talent for exaggerating stories until even Sirius fell off his seat laughing in disbelief, and your creative mind made for some glorious pranks and entertaining mistakes. Peter would blush for an hour straight if anyone mentioned The Great Plum Pudding Incident of Christmas 1974, all thanks to your clever meddling. And Remus– well, he was eternally grateful for your mother-henning during the worst of his moon cycles. You’d been the first to figure out his “furry little problem”, and upon learning that enjoying chocolate was his favorite method of escapism, showed up every month without fail with an armful of Honeydukes sweets. The little ways in which you loved each Marauder meant the world to them. They would do anything to protect you and make sure you were okay, James most of all. You often teased James that he was more bodyguard than friend, with his deep glares at too-forward Hufflepuff boys masking the big softie you knew he was underneath. You remembered fondly the summer days he spent chasing you around your house, scaring your mother half to death with his colander-and-pot ‘armor’ as he declared that as a chivalrous knight, he was meant to save Princess Y/n from the terrible Acromantula King. Privately, you thought James had a few too many Arthurian legends for bedtime stories as a child, but what could you do?

Even now, as sixth years, the bond between you and James never changed, your love for him ever-growing. Your heart melted every time you glanced over your shoulder in the hallway, only to find him chatting softly with a sniffling first-year and guiding them to Professor Sprout’s office for a hot cuppa and a biscuit. You cheered at his Quidditch victories and were euphorically lifted up onto his broad shoulders afterward, whooping as he galavanted through the common room in celebration. You were there when he needed a shoulder to cry on when his grandfather died, softly stroking his hair as he fell asleep in your lap with tear tracks still running down his face. And he adored you in return– braiding your hair while you worked on Herbology essays, racing you on his beloved broom when you stayed with him during the summer, distracting you from your rants about Slughorn’s unfair grading with a trip to the kitchens and a blissfully soft blanket.

James was your lifeline and you his– and nothing in the world could change that.

Except, perhaps, one tiny little complication. A complication with vibrant red hair, sparkling green eyes, and a natural affinity for Potions. A complication that had sparked your jealousy since the first time you noticed James glancing dreamily at Lily Evans in second year Transfiguration, jealousy that had only gotten worse with his grand declarations of love every week. He’d begun to announce his affection for the muggleborn to anyone who would listen in third year, and it didn’t stop there. No, when James Potter loved someone, he loved hard, and that meant that you had to watch as beautiful bouquets appeared on Lily’s nightstand nightly while the rest of the girls in your dorm whispered and swooned. You were a wallflower when he sighed about how lovely her skin was and how bloody talented she was at everything she did during one of your late-night chats in the common room, curling in on yourself with every word he spoke. When he asked her to Hogsmeade the first time (and the second, and the third, and the fiftieth), you observed as she rolled her eyes and shoved past him, despite the small smile on her face.

It wasn’t that Lily wasn’t smart or pretty or talented– far from it. She deserved every good Potions grade she got, and even the pureblood Slytherins begrudgingly noted how she was the darling of Hogwarts society. But you thought that the way she treated your best friend, refusing his advances quite harshly but sending him flirtatious glances and making a show of wearing his flowers in her hair, was rather unkind and misleading. She had James wrapped around her little finger and didn’t seem to want to let go of his attention anytime soon, despite Snape’s protests about how much time he was spending with her. You disliked Severus, but didn’t think he deserved Lily’s bad treatment either. Sometimes you’d see him staring at James and Lily deep in conversation, and shoot him a glance of communal disappointment– before realizing who you were sharing the moment with and resuming an expression of disgust, at least.

At first, you ignored your growing angst about his new obsession, chalking it up to sleep deprivation, stress over your upcoming exams, and even your monthly. But when you started to run out of excuses for the despair slowly overtaking your heart and flashes of his dark curls began to appear in your sweetest dreams, you were forced to admit that your feelings for James ran much deeper than a platonic friendship. From the way he spun you around in the snow to the way he snorted at Remus’ awful puns, you were head-over-heels smitten with your best friend.

The way he’d filled out since the end of fourth year hadn’t escaped your notice, either; you were pretty sure that his pecs should be considered a traffic hazard, with the way you’d fallen flat on your face after seeing him shirtless after a match. He’d rushed over to clean up every one of your injuries, of course, with a touch so gentle it released a whole menagerie of butterflies in your stomach. You’d barely managed to mumble a coherent thank-you before sprinting to take a very cold shower and scream into your pillow with embarrassment. How on earth did Lily Evans even think around him?!

Alas, you’d read your fair share of romance novels, and you knew how this story would end. Falling in love with your best friend was never a good idea, but you’d managed to do the idiot thing anyway, carrying a torch for a boy who would never look past Lily’s emerald eyes to see the watercolor ones that had always been by his side.

That was the state Sirius found you in, broody and lost in thought in a quiet corner of the library. He grinned rakishly, planting a well-polished boot on a nearby chair and leaning over to tap your forehead. “Lots going on in there today, huh?”

You snapped out of your daze and smiled sheepishly up at him. “Sorry, Siri, didn’t mean to ignore you. Just, er, thinking about my Potions essay, do you know how many uses there are for mandelwort? Quite fascinating plants, hones–”

Sirius winced and slid back far across the table. “Oh, no, you are not discussing horrid Potions work with me today when there are so many other wonderful topics.” He gestured to a table of swooning fifth-years gazing dreamily at his backside. “For example, those lovely ladies,” he crooned, sending an exaggerated wink towards them and smirking when they sighed.

You wrinkled your nose and scoffed. “Oh, please, as if I haven’t heard enough about your conquests already. I’m already scarred for life from your stories about that Belgium Veela, let alone the muggle sailor you nearly broke the Statute of Secrecy for.”

He waved a hand, dismissing your allegations of the mental injury caused by his excruciating attention to sordid detail when slightly tipsy in the common room. You made a mental note to charm his shampoo to turn his hair bright lavender for the next week for that little snub. Although, being Sirius, he’d probably just use it as an excuse to sway the rest of the Hogwarts population into going to Hogsmeade with him. “Ah, but darling Y/n, that’s what I’m here for!” He furrowed his brow and stroked his chin in mock consideration. “However, I can’t seem to recall a time when you–” here he poked you in the cheek for emphasis– “confessed to a little tete-a-tete in the hallway. Ever. Which means we have a problem,” he grinned.

You felt rather like prey being hunted for sport. “That would be because I’m not interested in anyone, you dolt!” Crossing your arms, you turned your face back towards your homework. Maybe if you denied romantic interest for long enough, Sirius would leave you alone and go flounce off to flirt with the noisy table of fourth years. “Anyway, I heard Marlene’s been circling Dorcas like a lovesick pigeon lately, so perhaps you should be putting your matchmaking efforts to her benefit instead.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “C’mon doll, I know you weren’t actually thinking about Potions when I arrived. Who’s the lead actor in those fantasies, mm?” He snatched up your favorite pink gel pen, twirling around his fingers as he looked at you expectantly.

Drat. He wouldn’t be so easily distracted with the latest gossip. You opened your mouth to protest yet again when you caught a flash of red over Sirius’ artfully tousled locks. You watched as James strode up to the alcove where Lily and her friends were studying, transfigured a sheet of parchment into a butterfly clip and held it out to her with a grin. Her laughter pealed out through the library as she let him lean over her shoulder to place it in her hair. He seemed oblivious to the titters of the girls around him while he gazed at Lily adoringly. You felt your heart clench as you recognized the expression on his face; you’d seen it on your own in the mirror after spending time with James, after all. And it seemed like maybe Lily was finally starting to be swayed into accepting his starry-eyed proposals, if the pretty blush on her cheeks was anything to go by.

Sirius tracked your despairing gaze to the couple and immediately paled in realization. “Oh, shit.”

Shit, indeed. Your face turned bright red as you scrambled to pack your bag and leave the area as fast as you possibly could, not sure how you could face Sirius knowing your deepest secret now. The boy had no self-control, fueling the Hogwarts gossip mill with the wild stories he overheard, and he had even less discretion when confessing things to his friends around the common room fire. It’s no wonder he wound up in Gryffindor, you thought miserably. There’s no way he’d be able to keep a secret like the rest of the Slytherins, and definitely not from James. It would only be a matter of time before he let it slip about your feelings to the rest of the Marauders, and— well, you’d just have to face losing your best friend for good once he heard.

Sirius broke your train of thought by wrapping his hands around yours, looking up at you with concern. “Hey, doll, wait— I didn’t know—“

You sniffed and wiped the tears threatening to fall from your eyes away fiercely. “That’s exactly it, Sirius, you didn’t know because you won’t be able to keep it from James.”

He looked guiltily down at the table. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a bit of a git with keeping things private lately, yeah?”

You nodded, covering your face with your hands. Sirius reached out, placing them back down on the table, and softly said, “Listen, I shouldn’t have pried so hard. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” He broke off, pausing to scramble for a handkerchief from his bag to wipe off your rapidly disintegrating mascara. “And I promise not to breathe a word of this to James,” he finished.

You looked up at him, startled. “Are you serious?” At his answering grin, you groaned. “Don’t answer that. But really, are you sure that you’ll be able to resist telling him everything?” You fiddled with the now-soiled handkerchief and whispered, “You two are so close, I don’t want to drive you apart. If James thought you were hiding something important from him, it would destroy him,” you sniffed.

He frowned. “Doll, you know you’re just as important as James is to me, right?” At your answering slump, his jaw clenched and he continued on with more intensity. “You’re like my sister, Y/n, there’s nothing you could do to make me care for you less. Especially not asking for your privacy. Clearly, I haven’t been treating you as well as you deserve if you doubt that.”

He walked around and took a seat in the armchair next to you, pulling you in to lean on his shoulder. “And I can be discreet, you know. I might not show it often, but growing up in a family of the most intensely secretive purebloods ever to exist taught me a few things.” You glanced at him doubtfully, the tiny quirk of your mouth the only sign that you were joking. “Hey, I’m being serious!” He laughed, then quieted suddenly. “This thing with James— you really love him, don’t you?”

You gave him an exasperated look out of the corner of your eye. Sirius released a breath and gazed deeply into the space in front of him. “Hey, we’ll figure this out together, okay?” He poked you in the side. “If he’s too focused on the smell of Evans’ hair or whatever to see that he already has the perfect girl in front of him, he’s not as smart as you think he is.” You giggled slightly, his words warming you. Sirius smiled, happy to see you cheering up a bit.

“Why don’t we go raid the kitchens? The coolest person I know once told me that elf-crafted mint chocolate chip ice cream is the best way to heal a broken heart,” he teased. You groaned, remembering how you’d told him that as a last resort to get him to stop complaining about how he missed his sailor ex-boyfriend every time you two went to Hogsmeade. At least your random advice wound up benefiting you now, you thought as you collected the last of your stationery and exited the library.

Neither you nor Sirius saw how James watched you smile up at Sirius as you walked away, holding his arm and laughing loudly at something he muttered. Anna Dumotier, a Hufflepuff fifth-year and one of Lily’s friends, would remember later that night how he seemed to tune out Lily’s voice for a moment and stared at the doors to the library with a strange expression on his face. His brows were furrowed like he was trying to decipher the answer to an unfamiliar puzzle, his eyes widened with confusion and a glint of something she could only identify as jealousy before Lily brought him back to the conversation with a graceful flip of her hair. But no— she shook her head— that couldn’t be right. What could James possibly be jealous of when he finally had the girl of his dreams in his arms?

taglist: @magpiencrow @that-kid143 @lilly-aliyah @itmustbegreattobecalledtheitgirl

comment if you'd like to be tagged for any of my works/fandoms in the future! :)

read on: part ii

#james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #sirius black #bisexual sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #fem reader #best friends to lovers #friends to lovers #marauders #marauders x y/n #lily evans #harry potter #hp fandom

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farfromstrange · 2 months

Text

Weed Cookies | Matt Murdock x F!Reader

PART 3 of The Vault

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Karen receives a box of cookies from one of their clients. Foggy and Matt take a bite. Even with his heightened senses though, Matt doesn't realize what's wrong with the cookies before he's absolutely wasted, and you have to babysit him. Yes, they were edibles.

Warnings: Fluff, faint hints at S3 depressed!Matt and suicidal ideations, attempt at humor, crack fic, accidental drug use, for the sake of this fic we are going to pretend that the edibles were made well enough for Mister I-Know-Everything to miss it

Word Count: 3.4k

A/n: I wrote this after watching the episode of Grey's Anatomy with the Weed Cookies. I took some behaviorisms from my own experiences and exaggerated them a little to fit the vibe of this fic. I scraped parts of this and once again adjusted them because this was even more poorly written before than it is now, and I added the Nelson, Murdock & Page Season 3 narrative again because that's now the running theme of this event. Anyway, if you choose to consume edibles, stay safe! (Also, I'm just copying and pasting my usual tag lists. if anyone wants to be added for this event, do let me know)

“We just got cookies from Ms. Lebowsky next door,” Karen announces happily when she enters the office, balancing the transparent Tupperware in one hand and her handbag in the other.

“She told me to thank you for helping her get out of that hellhole,” she says. Her eyes crinkle in the corners as a mischievous grin takes over her face. “There’s plenty for all four of us. Although she did mention Matt a few more times.”

“Ms. Lebowsky?” Foggy asks. He stands in the doorway of his office, holding a freshly brewed coffee. “Isn’t she the elderly lady we helped last week?”

“Yeah, that’s her. I think she has a crush on Matt.”

He rolls his eyes. “Of course, she does. Who doesn’t? Not that I do, but—well, you get the gist.” The blood rushes to his cheeks, and Karen giggles in response.

From the office on the left, Matt’s voice rings out, “We just did our jobs,” he says. “She made us cookies, dude!” Foggy inspects the box on Karen’s desk. “They’re chocolate chip cookies. Our favorite. See what good looks can buy you?”

Matt chuckles, his fingers tracing the Braille indentations in the documents that are starting to form a mountain before him. “I think we got them because we’re good lawyers, Foggy.”

“Yeah, right. No way! That woman was smitten the second she came in. I really gotta get that blind thing going. I mean, she’s way too old for you, but come on! You’re in a serious committed relationship, and women still come piling at your door. It’s not fair.”

The way he whines like a little kid who has just been denied his favorite candy makes Karen laugh at his antics, and even Matt can’t help but join in. No matter how stressed he is, and how badly he wants to focus, Foggy never fails to lighten the mood.

Ever since moving offices, things have been going well for the trio.

When Matt met you, he was at his lowest. You helped him climb out of a dark hole that was threatening to swallow him whole after losing Elektra and almost losing everything he worked so hard for to Wilson Fisk. Thanks to you, he found the will to fight again. You brought him back to life.

He wanted to die. He hated himself for the longest time after the building collapsed and forever took the first woman he ever loved down with its ruins, but then you came into his life, and you didn’t care about his baggage. You were far too good for him, but that didn’t matter to you.

He fell for you hard and fast, and maybe the timing was a little off because what he needed was therapy and not someone new to get attached to. Still, if you hadn’t pulled him back to his feet and encouraged him to fight back against Fisk, saving his friendship with the people he cares most about in the process, he would have never made it far enough to get therapy.

Matt trusts you with his life because he feels like he owes it to you, but he also loves you more than anything. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to him. You’re his soulmate, and he couldn’t be happier.

Nelson & Murdock added Karen to their permanent repertoire. With her, things are flowing much more smoothly, and they’re actually making money now. They’re expensive, as Foggy likes to say it. Matt’s friends are just as happy as he is, giving him hope for the future.

“Hey,” Foggy snaps him out of his trance, “Earth to Murdock.”

Matt blinks behind his glasses, his fingers halting their frantic movements along the paper. “While I don’t disagree with what you’re saying,” he says, “please don’t let my girlfriend hear you say that women are piling at my door.”

Karen snorts. “Trust me, Matt. She knows,” she says.

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t remind her of that.”

“My lips are sealed. Foggy?”

He sighs, once again dramatically. “As long as you don’t sleep with them, you have nothing to fear, my friend.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” says Matt. “The one I’m sleeping with is incomparable.”

Foggy grimaces. “Oh, dude. Gross! You know, God made conscious thought as a mechanism for humans to know when to shut up.”

“To be fair, ninety percent of the population don’t know how to use that mechanism,” Karen jumps to Matt’s defense.

As he laughs, he takes a whiff of the air surrounding their new baked goods. Matt can smell the sweet chocolate of the cookies, and somewhat of a herbal essence, but he can’t quite pinpoint why the scent seems so familiar.

Karen walks around her desk to drop her bag and her coat. “So, do guys want a cookie?” she asks, swiftly changing the subject.

“I’ll take one,” Foggy is quick to answer.

Matt nods from his desk. “I’ll try one, too.”

The innocent decision to indulge in a sweet treat soon comes back to bite them in the ass though. Heavily.

When Matt first bit into the cookie, he didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. It tasted like chocolate mixed with basil, sugar, honey, and the kind of flour Ms. Lebowsky used, but he didn’t find much else wrong with it. Perhaps if he hadn’t allowed himself to get distracted by his phone calling out your name and the sweetest text he could have possibly received this early in the morning from the love of his life, he would have noticed that something tasted off about these cookies. And that what he believed to have been basil as a secret ingredient was something else entirely.

When lunchtime finally rolls around, you drop everything you were doing before and make your way to Matt’s office. You always spend lunch together. It’s your favorite time of the day. For an hour, you can forget the stress of your workplace and focus on him. He’s your safe haven. Your home. You crave to memorize his features anew every day so that you will have something to carry around with you when he has to work a bit longer, or when he goes out at night and his Daredevil duties drag on beyond what he planned.

You need to be with him as much as possible because you’re scared that your happiness will shatter on a white cloth, and you will be forced to move on—you can’t imagine losing him. You dedicated your life to loving him, and the thought of ever losing that privilege kills you.

On your way out, your phone vibrates in your pocket. You smile, thinking that it’s Matt, but when Karen’s number pops up on your screen, you frown.

‘We have a problem,’ she texted you. Without context.

All the alarms in your head start blaring, and you start to walk a little faster. You start imagining all possible scenarios. When you ask Karen what’s going on, she doesn’t even reply. What if someone got hurt? What if something happened to Matt? You almost lost him once; you can’t go through that again.

You burst into the new office space that your friends share a few minutes later, your chest heaving and sweat dripping down your pulsating temples. You’re ready to fight whoever dared to hurt the man you love, or possibly threaten your friends, or both, but when you look up and see your darling boyfriend with his cheek pressed against one of the leaves on their gigantic office plant as if the overgrown Calathea were the coziest pillow he has ever touched, you understand why Karen texted you that you—both you and her—have a problem. A big one, too, judging by the looks of it.

“What is going on here?” you ask the dreaded question, shutting the door behind you.

Only then do you notice Karen to your right in Foggy’s office, trying to get him off of his office chair. He’s belting the chorus of Defying Gravity at the top of his lungs, and he’s got a broom clutched tightly in his right hand.

Oh boy. Your wide eyes drift to Karen’s desk in the middle of the room. As soon as you see the chocolate cookies inside the Tupperware, it slowly begins to dawn on you.

You’re not sure which is worse: Matt cradling a houseplant with his glasses discarded and the first three buttons of his dress shirt undone as he’s coated in sweat, or Foggy singing one of Broadway’s greatest ballads so off-key that the Calathea is starting to wither.

It takes Matt much longer than usual to sense your presence in the room. He calls your name, and his lips curl into a bright grin. Even completely out of it, he looks like an angel on earth.

“Matthew,” you say. You approach him like you would approach a little kid. He’s on his knees, so the analogy isn’t far off.

“Hi, honey. What’s going on?”

“Sweetheart,” he greets you, and you have never heard this man sound so relaxed. His hazel eyes are red-rimmed and glazed over, but the most obvious change lies in his behavior.

“Feel that.” He reaches for your hand when you’re close enough for him to smell you, but he misses. “Where are you?” Matt pouts. “I can’t see.”

You want to laugh, but this is not the time. “You are blind, baby,” you remind him.

“Since when?”

“Over twenty years.”

“Oh.” He finally gets a hold of your hand. The conversation seems to go right over his head. “Feel the power of nature,” he tells you. “It’s so soft.”

You want to drag him away from the potentially dangerous plant if he decides to eat it, but the sight of him is one to behold. He looks downright adorable.

You have to focus though. You gently pat his hand. “Maybe later,” you say, and then you make your way to Karen’s desk to inspect the cookies.

Behind you, she calls your name. You twirl around. From the looks of it, she managed to get Foggy down from his chair, but he remains singing at the top of his lungs. All the signs point to one thing, and one thing only.

“Did you give my boyfriend weed cookies?” you sound a lot more condescending than you planned to.

Karen shakes her head. Her face is pale, and she looks just as panicked as you do. “Those are not mine,” she says.

“But you knew they were edibles?!”

“Of course, I didn’t! I started questioning it when Matt started cuddling the plant because his Braille felt like boobs and he didn't want to cheat on you, so he decided that he needed to touch some grass.” She points to him, exasperated. As if on cue, Matt lets out a happy little sigh.

Your brain struggles to process all of the information at once. “I’m sorry, what?”

“He said that his Braille feels like boobs. I don’t know! I thought he was messing with me until Foggy turned into Elphaba, and that’s when I took a bite and realized there was weed in them,” she says.

You groan, your worried eyes momentarily flicking back to your high boyfriend. High. That’s not a word you thought you would ever associate with him. “How did this happen?” you ask.

“Ms. Lebowsky, the lady next door, we helped her out the other day, and this morning, she gave me these cookies. I called her when these two started acting like idiots—more than usual, anyway. Turns out, she confused them with the ones her niece made for her birthday party tomorrow.”

“Her niece made edibles for her birthday party?”

“Please, don’t ask. I don’t have all the details. I just–”

“It’s fine,” you cut her off. “Just tell me that you’ve got Foggy under control.”

Karen peeks in through the window to his office. “More or less, yeah. You’ve got Matt?”

“Yeah, I’ve got him.”

You have to take care of him. He’s your responsibility. But as calm as he is right now, his heightened senses make the situation a lot more complex than the mere accidental consumption of edibles.

Walking over to him, you try to haul him up. He protests, at first, but then he feels the fabric of your shirt, and he slacks.

Matt wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your neck. “You’re so soft,” he coos. “You smell like honey.”

With his entire weight on you, you have to widen your stance so you won’t fall over. His usually quick reflexes are nonexistent right now; he won’t be able to catch you if you trip, and then you’re both going to get hurt.

“You know what’s even softer?” you ask.

“The plant,” he answers confidently. He sounds like a more careless version of himself. You can’t deny that it does something to you.

“No, silly,” you chuckle softly, “I meant your bed.”

“Oh. But I’m not tired.”

“You’re high.”

He pouts. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.” You stroke his back. “It’s okay. I’m not mad at you.”

He stiffens and relaxes at the same time. You swear you can feel the electricity in his veins as his nerves respond to the feeling of your skin on his. It’s like he’s on fire. Like your touch feels a million times more intense, and he’s being crushed under the weight of it in a way that makes him crave more.

He squeezes you tighter, trying to get swallowed by you, consumed to the point that you are the same person. The drugs are doing a number on him, and his already heightened sense of feeling has increased tenfold to the point you’re not sure if it’s pleasurable or painful or both. It must be agonizing, yet at the same time there is a high chance that the weed is calming his nerves and dampening his perception to the point he’s taking everything in without the added weight—he’s enjoying the newfound sensations in limbo, and he’s unaffected by it. You wonder how long that is going to last.

After bidding farewell to Karen, wishing her good luck with Foggy who has now reached a point of his high where he’s lying on the floor, demanding to listen to Bohemian Rhapsody and cry over Freddie Mercury. She assures you that she has got it under control, apologizes again, and then sends you on your way.

“Bye, Karen,” Matt says. “You have very nice hair.” His hand tangles in yours, and his face lights up like a Christmas Tree. You managed to convince him to put his glasses on, at least, or he might get irritated. “Never mind,” his voice turns into a pur.

Usually, you would shiver at his fingers in your hair, tracing the strands and sensually massaging your scalp only he knows how to, but today is not one of those days. You’re still concerned about the effects that the weed might have on him, so you want to be careful, although you’re not sure how much longer you can keep yourself from laughing.

As you maneuver Matt through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, his cane hovers above the ground and his arm is hooked around yours. Without you, he would have run off into traffic by now. He has absolutely no spatial awareness anymore.

Every sound, scent, and texture seems to capture his attention, but there's one sensation in particular that he can't seem to shake: thirst. You’re not even home yet, and you had to stop by a convenience store to get him a bottle of water. He shed his coat, which you are now carrying for him while also guiding him while simultaneously trying not to attract any unwanted attention.

You can’t help but look at him as though he is your whole world. He is. He is everything to you, even high on edibles he never meant to consume, and acting like a feral toddler. If anything, you are even prouder now that he is yours.

“Hey,” he whispers, leaning close to you, “do you think fire hydrants taste like licorice?”

You shake your head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Matt, don’t lick the fire hydrant.”

He pouts. For a moment, you think that you have steered off any possible disaster, but that was only wishful thinking.

Matt’s curiosity knows no bounds, and he’s soon reaching out to touch anything that catches his eye. He runs his fingers along the rough brick foundation of a building, marveling at the texture, and he stops to sniff a flower, declaring, “This is the most beautiful flower I have ever smelled.”

You pluck it for him, and he carries it in the pocket of his coat with a happy smile.

You’re both exhausted when you finally make it to his apartment. Getting his large frame through the door is one thing, stopping him from tearing the tap off the sink as he desperately searches for liquid with the words, “Water!” is another.

“Okay, okay,” you try to calm him. You grab a bottle from the fridge, open it for him, and force him to take it. “Drink.”

One touch is enough for him to drop it. “It’s cold,” he recoils in agony.

You sigh. “Tap water it is, then.”

You have never seen him down so many glasses of water. He is severely dehydrated and sensitive to changes in temperature. It’s either too hot or too cold, and you’re so glad that Karen texted you when she did.

You manage to get him to the couch with some snacks that he devours within seconds. If he moves one more inch today, you may not be able to catch him again.

His lip twitches. “Chickens don’t have any arms.”

You pause in the process of wrapping him in a blanket, staring blankly ahead at him. “Excuse me?” you ask.

“Chickens don’t have any arms,” Matt states. “Every American citizen has the right to bear arms under the second amendment in the constitution. If an egg was fertilized on US soil, and the chicken hatched there as well, technically, that makes them a citizen of the United States of America, therefore allowing tiny creatures without arms the right to bear arms, but who gives the bears their arms?”

You’re so flabbergasted that the absurdity of the situation eludes you. The words process only slowly in your mind, and when they do, they cause a wave of confusion to wash over you before it turns into genuine amusement, and it takes every ounce of self-control to keep yourself from laughing at him.

You can pinpoint the exact second the thought escapes his mind and something else replaces it. His hand brushes over the leather couch. “Smooth,” he observes. You haven’t even fully processed his very philosophical question about the animal kingdom before he drops his cheek down on the couch.

The man who has been carrying the weight of the world in bricks on his back for years is finally relaxed; it shouldn’t leave such a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

You kneel in front of him, reaching out to touch his cheek. “Do you need anything?” you ask.

Matt’s gaze is filled with an odd sort of clarity. “Nah. Just you,” he mumbles.

A soft smile tugs at your lips as you brush a sweaty strand of hair away from his forehead. "I'm right here," you reassure him.

He nods, his eyelids drooping as the effects of the edibles start to take their toll. “Good.” He searches for your hand, and you help him intertwine your fingers. A giddy smile finds its way onto his face. “You’re warm.”

You lean in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “And you’re high,” you tease.

Matt huffs out a breathy laugh. “Mmh, yeah,” he says. “But it’s okay. ‘Cause you’re here.”

Despite the chaos and the unexpected turn of events, there’s a sense of contentment settling over you as you watch him drift off into a state of bliss. He deserves it more than anyone.

You stay by his side, watching over him as he succumbs to the pull of sleep that you’re all too familiar with after a sudden high.

“Note to self,” you say to yourself, “never eat a stranger’s cookies without drug testing them first.”

And love has funny ways of making even the most absurd moments feel strangely beautiful.

Matt Murdock Tag List: @littlenerdyravenclaw @yarrystyleeza @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @thatonegamefish @norestfortheshelbywicked @mattkinsella @itwasthereaminuteago @linamarr @gpenguin666 @acharliecoxedfan

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x you #daredevil #daredevil x reader #reader insert #from the vault #charlie cox #weed cookies

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steve-faglan · 4 months

Text

Cat // Mouse

Reader x Steve Raglan (William Afton)

TW: NON CON!! DUB CON!! DRUGGING!! HE'S MEAN!!!!!!!!!

SUMMARY: You get a job working for an old man you want to fuck. Are you misreading things? Where did that vibrator come from?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Is this considered a slow burn? It felt slow to write. It's supposed to be like will they? Won't they? But it's... Well yeah. Look at this gif??????? My PUSSSY????????

WORD COUNT: so many.

Daddy issues. At least, that's what they call it. That's what your ex screamed at you about before he left you in a state thousands of miles from the one you were raised in. He said it was because you made him feel immature; less than. But maybe he was. All he ever wanted to do was drink and play video games, you craved more.

After he left, you realized you'd have to get a better paying job to cover the portion of rent your ex was paying. You take a day to really let it settle in. You cry and drink an entire bottle of wine while watching Dirty Dancing, and then you schedule a meeting with a local career counselor.

You sigh as you hang up the phone. It's embarrassing to need a temp agency's help finding employment, but you're new to this area. You don't know anyone and you're barely sure where to start.

Your alarm blares throughout your room, startling you awake. You barely remember falling asleep at all, and somehow, it feels like you couldn't have possibly slept enough. You're sluggish and groggy, but you still find the energy to get ready for your interview. You're hoping a little extra effort will get you further in a small town like this, so you spend a little more time on your makeup before heading out of the house.

The drive across town to the agency is quick and easy. You pull into the parking lot and emerge from your car, shielding your eyes from the sun to read the rickety sign that's hanging on for dear life outside the building. You huff, unsure if this was the best place to go looking for higher-paying work. When you step inside the door, a petite old lady greets you with a smile. She points to an office down the hall and tells you to knock.

*Knock, knock, knock.*

You push the unlatched door open slightly and a warm voice invites you in.

"Come in, have a seat." The man instructs. You scan over his office. It's dated, and decorated with styles reminiscent of corporate America in the 80's. You read the name tag on his desk, Steve Raglan. You take a seat in one of the muted yellow chairs opposite Steve and await his introduction.

"Steve," he extends an arm over the desk and you shake his hand, telling him your name.

"Thanks for having me, Mr. Raglan. I'm new to town, well, new to the entire coast, really."

"Wow, a little far from home, aren't we?" Steve chuckles kindly, smiling with a tightly closed mouth, spreading his mustache across his lip.

"You have no idea," you laugh exhaustedly and Steve tilts his head as if he's pondering something, but he doesn't mention it. "Anyways, here's my resume. It's not much, but uh..." You hand him a folder with your work history document professionally stored inside. Steve happily takes the folder and begins to read through your papers.

Your resume is impressive. You're well educated with a strong work streak. Your work ethic stands out to him. He's reading through your accomplishments aloud, commending each one. You're unsure why, but his praise fills you with a very specific need. You crave more and something in you tells you that you'd do almost anything to get it.

"A course in robotic engineering?" Steve's voice sounds surprised. He looks up at you with raised eyebrows. A grin spreads across his bearded face. "Huh."

"Yeah, I actually took a few courses. I never did anything with it though."

"Do you remember a lot from those classes?" He sets the closed folder to the side and casually places other papers on top of it, distracting you enough to keep you from asking for it back.

"Oh, sure. Mostly coding, I guess." You shrug.

"Coding." He repeats to himself, nodding knowingly. He can think of a million places in this town that could use a smart, pretty little thing like you. A strained silence grows for just a moment before he speaks again. "Well, Y/N. I think I have an offer for you, but it's not much of a pay raise like you'd hoped."

"What is it?" You ask, hoping for at least a dollar difference.

"Did you see Mrs. Penneman out there?" Steve points in the direction of the kind old woman who greeted you.

"Mrs. Penneman?"

"She's at the front desk. She's retiring in exactly one week. That position will be open." He goes on to talk about the ways you could incorporate what you learned in your engineering classes as they switch from mostly paper to computers after Y2K.

"What's the pay like?" You ask, already knowing you plan to agree the second he stops talking.

"Not great, but!" He pauses for a moment. "Plenty of opportunities for overtime." Steve's not an idiot. He saw how looked when he was praising you. The way the red in your cheeks was flaming hot at the mere mention of you doing a good job. He knows what he's doing to you, and he loves it.

"Overtime?"

"Of course. Switching the entire employee records from paper to digital isn't an easy feat. It's going to take a lot of time you may not have during the work day. Does this suit you or should I keep looking?"

"Oh, uh," you hesitate. Steve stifles a grin as he watches your inner battle decide between being around him or possibly making more money. "Yes, that's perfect. Thank you, sir."

"Excellent. You start Monday." Steve ends the conversation abruptly. A jarring switch from friendly and conversational to busy and indifferent. It triggered something in you. A desperate need to get that warmth back.

"Right, okay. I'll... See you Monday." You leave the office, yearning. And Steve is well aware. He sits alone in his office, staring forward as he makes plans for you. He folds his hands together and rests his chin on them as he imagines the way he'll pick you apart like a toy. You're already so desperate for his approval, you've done the hard part for him.

Monday rolls around and you, of course, wake up a little early to get ready. Of course, you don't want to come off as desperate, so you're very tactful in the way you dress and present today, your first day. You've all but forgotten your ex was ever here, let alone the fact that you moved all the way to Hurricane, Utah for him.

Nervous, but good at hiding it, you walk into the building with a beaming false confidence. You're trying to remind yourself that while Steve is attractive and older and something mysterious about him draws you in, you're still here to work and you really can't let rent slip because homelessness is not an option when you're this far from your home state.

You brace yourself for what you assume will be an extremely long day, and you hope it is. Not only for the money but the view as well. When you walk up to the desk, Mrs. Penneman is nowhere to be found. All her belongings are missing from the desk, leaving a generic canvas of an office. You glance down the hall to Steve's open office door.

"Mr. Raglan?" You knock lightly on the door, stepping inside slowly so as not to intrude. He's not there. The entire building seems eerily empty. Just as you turn to leave his office, you run flat into a broad, solid figure. Steve. You stumble before finally falling backward. You sit on the floor for a moment, red-faced, but keeping your composure to the best of your ability.

"Someone's punctual." Steve extends a hand to you, helping you up to your feet.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Raglan. I couldn't find-"

"Mrs. Penneman decided an early retirement was in store. I'll be training you, if that's alright." Steve smirks, knowing he relieved his previous secretary of her duties early specifically to have this time working so closely with you. He dressed it up as a gift to her.

"Oh, okay. Of course. Where should I start?" You smile, awaiting instruction. You cling to every word he says, the guidance, the leadership. The way his dimples deepen when he smiles in the slightest. You become dependent on making him smile simply for this reason.

Steve sets you up for data entry and asks that you let him come check your work every so often to make sure things "meet his standards." You've never been more determined to do something perfectly in your life. With unbreakable focus, you start the first few tasks. You're mindful, double-checking, efficient, and fast.

"Mr, Raglan?" You appear like an angel in his doorway. He looks up from his papers and waits for you to continue. "I finished the first portion. Could you come check it for me?"

Steve smiles warmly as he stands to follow you to your desk. The warmth of his gaze melts you from your head to your pussy.

"This looks great, Y/N. Good job." He adds the last bit just to see the way your eyes shift and sparkle when he compliments you. He leaves you to do the rest of your work in peace, but he lingers a little longer in the hallway, watching you for a moment, carefully hidden from your view.

You pick up on the data entry rather quickly and finish the very last employee record by the end of your first week. When Steve comes to finalize the task, he grabs a chair and slides it next to yours so you can both look at the screen together. You're poised and collected by now, the initial lust seeming to die down after a week of seeing him every day. Though his words of approval still cause a knot to form in your stomach.

Steve picks up on your dwindling excitement and decides this is war. As the two of you sit next to each other, he carelessly allows his legs to take up more and more space. Normally a man's obliviousness in a situation like this would boil your blood, but when his thigh grazes yours so softly, you freeze. His touch lingers and he looks at you with half-lidded eyes. His face is dangerously close to yours. He leans in even closer, boldly placing his lips mere inches from your ear.

"You're a very impressive young woman. You know that?" His warm breath brushes against your ear, inviting a million little goosebumps across your skin. It takes everything in him not to chuckle at your visceral reaction. You're frozen, staring straight ahead, basking in the closeness to this man you desire so badly. A few moments pass and a light chuckle leaves his lips. Still ever so close, he speaks again. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

"S-sorry! Thank you, Mr. Raglan. Sorry," you nervously laugh, wishing so badly you could go back in time and rip the sticker off your forehead that says "Fuck me, Mr. Raglan."

"Don't mention it." He suddenly withdraws from your personal space, leaving you clinging to the dwindling body heat he's left behind. His tall figure towers over you, especially so when you're sat. He's gone just as quickly as he arrived and you can't help but feel perplexed. Was he not just coming on to you? Did you project all of that onto a perfectly normal interaction? He warps your reality without even touching you.

"What the fuck?" You question aloud to yourself. Your heart is racing. Your mind is constantly replaying the moment. His voice, his words, all of it.

The next day, it starts as any other. You're replaying the day before over and over again, just as you did when you shamelessly touched yourself last night. The sound of his voice so close to your ear, the way his leg brushed against yours. Just thinking about it feels like butterflies in your stomach.

"Good morning, Y/N." Steve walks right past you. You try to return the greeting, but you're cut off by the sound of his office door closing. He's frustrated, but you're not sure why. Disappointed, but not really the probing type, you decide to just get to work. Today was supposed to be the day he trained you for a "side project" utilizing your coding skills, but you're hesitant to ask about it while he's so visibly upset.

The day continues as usual, though it does seem to drag on a little longer for you when you don't get to stare at Steve. You're straightening up the waiting area, bent at the waist to fan out the magazines. When you stand, there's suddenly a tall figure behind you. Steve is pressing the entire front of his body directly against you. You involuntarily release a small gasp when you feel what you're sure is his half-hard cock pressed against your ass. Steve takes only a second to inhale your scent and feel himself pressed against you before he whispers in your ear once again.

"You're my secretary, not my maid." He steps away and you frown, still facing away from him.

"I'm sorry, sir. I've run out of things to do." You shrug and you turn.

"Out of things to do? Already?" He raises his eyebrows.

"Yes, sir." Your formality is adorable to him. And something about you calling him "sir" makes him hard just hearing it.

"Well," Steve steps closer to you now that you're facing him. He's so tall, towering over you, craning his neck to keep his eyes locked on yours. "You're such a good girl," there it is. His words make you shudder. There's no way he's fucking with you right now, right? Wrong. He once again creates a gap between the two of you.

"Good kid with a good head on your shoulders. Try not to overthink it." He smirks at your beet-red face and swiftly disappears to his office. You're becoming frustrated. It's as if by the time he walks away, you're so enthralled that you can't remember whether or not your degenerate, horny brain over-dramatized the memory. Angry and even a little embarrassed, you make your way back to your desk.

Steve sits in his office carefully listening to the sounds of your frustration. He loves the way you'd fall to your knees for him right now if he asked, but he likes fucking with you more. He hears you sigh away the sexual tension and he grins. Having this much power over someone like you. You're so smart and beautiful, what are you doing melting in his hands like that? His strong hand finds the growing bulge in his slacks, hoping to relieve any of the pressure he's been building up for the both of you.

He closes his eyes and inhales deeply through his teeth still palming himself, picturing you bound and gagged in front of him. Maybe that's why he's so insistent on teasing you instead of fucking you on his desk like he knows you dream about. Maybe he wants the chase, the restraint. You're too easy, he wants you to be scared.

At the end of the day, you decide to say "fuck it" and see what he'll do if you match his energy. He's grabbing his things to leave when you slip into his office and close the door behind you. You're shaking-nervous, your heart is pumping at an inhuman rate. You have no idea what your plan is until it happens.

"Mr. Raglan, can I ask you a question?" You make your way across the room, passing the boundary of the front of his desk, standing with him behind it. Steve tilts his head in a bemused expression.

"Y/N, feeling a little comfortable, are we?" His sarcastic question leaves you a little more unsure of yourself, and you take a step back. "Ask away." Steve smiles innocently.

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but..." You're shocked at how steady your voice is as you fall into this sultry character you've created for yourself. It's never failed you before. "I feel like there's something you're trying to tell me. It's not very subtle." You lean against the desk casually. "Am I wrong?"

"Oh, wow," Steve can't help but grin, but he quickly replaces it with a smug, sarcastic expression. "You must be the queen of subtly, right?" His snarky words catch you off guard. "No, dear. Sorry about any miscommunications on my part. See you tomorrow, Y/N."

Steve steps around you and walks out the door without another word. You're stunned silent and extremely embarrassed. You consider leaving a resignation letter on your desk and never coming back. Furious, you slam the door to your car and drive home. By the time you get to your driveway, you've calmed down and accepted that everything you thought he was doing was just your imagination.

You're still angry, unable to fully accept that you'd be that delusional, but who really knows? From then on, you put away your fantasies and focus on work and getting money set aside for rent. The next few days continue like normal, with no more "misunderstandings" or advances. Until... Steve reaches for a binder off a shelf behind your desk. As he slides in behind you where you stand, right behind your pushed-in computer chair, and reaches his long arm up to the shelf, his other arm searches for a surface to brace on. That surface is your pencil skirt-clad waist.

You gasp quietly, but you don't allow yourself to react any further. Steve has the binder in his hand, but he doesn't remove the other from your waist. He lingers, staring at the back of your head trying to read whatever emotion must be displayed on the other side. You're rigid, like you usually are when he pushes these boundaries, but he also senses your frustration and boredom. He can't help but chuckle as he steps away.

"Thank you, Y/N," he says, waving the binder as he walks away to his office. Did he even need the binder? No, probably not. You huff at your seat, officially deeming him untouchable. You decide he must just be a weird old man that doesn't understand personal space and you can accept that now that he's no longer the object of your desire.

This is what he wanted. Your indifference. It's all part of his plan. As the days continue and your attraction settles to dust, he waits for you to make a mistake, any mistake. To his surprise and perhaps even dismay, you're nearly perfect. Then finally, you accidentally double-book a client meeting that leaves someone jobless with no way to reschedule. You're horrified and apologizing left and right to the man who is more than understanding, making you feel worse.

The man finally leaves, with no job, and no meeting. You sit at your desk and mentally scold yourself for being so careless. The stress of the approaching deadline of your rent seems to be taking a larger toll on you than you realized. Steve's client meeting ends and he sends the temp on his way with high hopes. You wish him a good day and try to focus on your computer.

"Y/N, can I see you in my office?" Steve appears from nowhere in front of your desk. He moves so silently when he means to, it's unsettling. You shamefully look up from your work and nod, following him to his office. You both sit in the appropriate seats and he releases a sigh.

"I'm disappointed in you, Y/N." His opening statement crushes you. "That was a huge fuck up, was it not?" His voice is stern and the use of cursing lets you know this is not a formal scolding. You're in trouble.

"I-I know, but it's the first one I've ever made since I started, sir."

"So that means I should just forget about it, right?" He leans back in his chair, folding his hands in front of him. "A man can't feed his family because he doesn't know when he'll have a ride back here."

"I know, sir. I'm... I'm sorry." You sigh, eaten alive with guilt. "He was very kind."

"Did you deserve it?" He's angry.

"No." You look away from him.

"What was that?" He tilts his head, eyebrows still arched. You glance at him, confused for a moment.

"No... Sir." You add.

"I think you're getting too comfortable here, Y/N. 'It's not very subtle.'" he quotes you and your face ignites with blush.

"O-Of course, sir. I'm so embarrassed. I'm sorry."

"Well, don't be embarrassed. Do better." You nod and begin to stand to leave when he leans forward with a softer expression. "Coffee?"

"What?" You don't even mean to ask him to repeat himself, it was just such a jarring switch in tone.

"Coffee. I just made it." Steve stands and crosses the room to a little black coffee maker in his office that you'd never noticed before.

"Uh, sure." You accept, hoping the caffeine will give you some sort of drive to improve your current work performance. Steve pours you both a cup and passes one to you. They're the same cup, but his looks comically small in his large, nimble hands. You take a few sips of the hot, dark liquid and begin to feel light-headed.

Everything around you seems to melt away. You've completely disregarded where you are or why you might feel this way. You try to stand and you drop the still-full cup on the office floor. Steve watches it all leaning against the table across the room. He nonchalantly sips his coffee as he waits for you to collapse. Just as he planned, the minute you get to your feet, your knees buckle beneath you. You're out before you hit the floor.

"Look at this. Look how little you think of yourself the second you hear how disappointed I am." Steve chuckles as he lifts your unconscious body. You're bound and gagged in the back seat of his '79 Ford Fairmont as he makes his way to an undisclosed location. Yeah, that one.

You wake up with a deep, sharp gasp as if you'd been holding your breath the entire time. Your head is spinning and your vision is blurry as you try to scan your surroundings. It's a dank grey room littered with failed attempts at his "side project" he'd mentioned to you weeks ago. Crumpled endo-skeletons and half-built robot heads cover each corner while wires and bolts cover the rest. Your heart begins to race and you try to rise from the cold, metal table you reside on, only to find that your wrists and ankles are strapped in place with thick leather binds.

"What the fuck?" You mumble to yourself as you continue to try to wake up. "Hello?! Help! Help me, please!" You scream and thrash on the slab.

"They all say that, you know? They always scream for help as if anyone's coming." Steve slowly enters the door. His tie is loose along with a few buttons, and his sleeves are haphazardly shoved halfway up his arms. His normally carefully combed hair is disheveled and damp with sweat as if he'd been hard at work before entering this room.

"'They?'" You tremble, rattling the metal.

"Of course, you're the first for this type of venture, I guess. Normally I just skip to killing," he chuckles, removing his tie. You're in a state of shock, sheer disbelief. Hearing that last word sends you into hysterics.

"Please don't kill me, sir. I- I won't fuck up again, I promise. Please-"

"Shut. Up." Steve's stern voice cuts directly through your pleas. "I haven't decided yet."

Tears flow steadily down the sides of your face as he begins to grope you. His rough hands explore every inch of you. His calculated hands knowingly leave bruises on your tender skin.

"Please..." You whisper with your eyes tightly shut, afraid of every movement he makes.

"Sweetheart, if this part scares you, I'm not sure you're gonna survive what comes next." He's only inches from your ear as he whispers. Your body shudders with terrified sobs. The cries only get louder when you feel Steve cutting off your clothes. You're too afraid to fight him off, unsure of whether any injuries you may acquire would be accidental or not.

"Why are you doing this? I-I literally came on to you!" You try to find reason in his actions, mostly to distract yourself from the fact that you're completely exposed, the remnants of your clothes a tattered mess beneath you.

"Where's the fun..." he drags the tip of his knife softly from your ankle to your navel as he steps closer to your blushing face. "In that?" He continues, positioning the weapon to stab through your abdomen, should he press down with any effort at all. Goosebumps erupt over your skin. "Now, are you going to shut your fucking mouth or do I need to shut it for you?" He places a gentle hand on your cheek. You nod frantically, looking into his eyes. They look so calm.

You hate to admit it, but the way he touches you seems to attempt to dig up that insatiable attraction you felt for him not long ago. Your fantasies never ventured to this genre, but you used to dream of him making you orgasm. You're torn from that memory when you remember his admittance to murder and how you know that means you probably won't make it out of this room.

Steve places the knife to the side and slowly slips his middle finger inside you. You gasp, and he plunges away, growing rougher with each stride. He curls his knuckles and watches your face closely as your crying eyes roll back into your skull. You yank against your restraints, trying to squirm away from him, but he's ruthless.

"You're so... Peculiar, Y/N." He removes his fingers from you and cleans them of your undeniable arousal with a pocket handkerchief. "I almost caved when you confronted me in my office. So bold. It's been a riot just picking at you." Steve reaches a hand into a desk in this mysterious room and retrieves an unknown device. You gasp as he slips the small, cold object inside you.

"What are you-" your question is swiftly silenced by the small remote in Steve's hand activating a powerful vibration from the item in your pussy. His free hand rubs rhythmically up and down your clit, stimulating you further. Steve stares down at you as you melt away into pleasure, ashamed and silently begging for more. He's laughing at you, hovering his head over yours as you anxiously avoid eye contact.

"Look at me," he demands, but you can't. You shut your eyes. He releases a breathy chuckle and raises the intensity of the vibrating gadget. "Don't start enjoying yourself or I might have to really scare you." You don't want to know what that entails, so you force yourself to look into his soulless blue eyes. The eye contact deepens the red shade that washes over your cheeks and Steve shakes his head, laughing at you again.

"Why are you so embarrassed now? Would you still be this shy if I'd bent you over my desk like you wanted? You're so much tighter when you're scared." Steve abruptly removes the vibrating toy from between your legs. You whimper pathetically in the absence of stimulation. He leaves the room and returns with yet another machine. This one's larger, a box.

He places the box down between your legs, as close to your throbbing entrance as he can get it. The side of the box facing you is adorned with a hole housing a phallic shape made of soft, silicone material. Your heart is bound to give out at this pace. The box itself covers a mass of gears and wires, a motor to power the rod in and out of its destination. You.

"We'll start it out slowly for you, how's that?" Steve presses a button and the machine pushes into you, slipping in easily as your body clearly craves it. You whine and cry out in pain as the machine stretches you out, slowly boring in and out of you. "If this thing's too big for you, what makes you think you could've taken me?" He laughs as he leans against the desk and watches the mechanism fuck you out. Every so often, he increases the speed.

Finally, it's maxed out. You're squirming and wailing in overstimulated pleasure and pain.

"Please! Please, I can't take it- I can't-" your begs are ignored. Steve places a rough hand around your neck, carelessly cutting off your oxygen and blood flow while his other hand delicately flicks your clit. That's it, that sends you over the limit. You climax harder than you ever thought possible, drenching the machine that's still fucking into you as your body quivers. Steve allows you to breathe again and takes his sweet time powering down the penetration machine.

You're shaking. Your tear-stained face is frozen in a look of exhaustion. The last thing you're able to do is move or speak. Your breathing is a plethora of hitched coughs and gasps and you flinch at even the possibility of being touched again at all.

"I think you might be ready now." He unfastens your bindings and takes a step back to observe. You don't move at all, not a single muscle. The truth is, you can't, even if you wanted to. Steve smirks, pressing a foot-lever under the table that lowers you right down to his waist. Two powerful hands hook under your legs and pull you so your beaten hole is perfectly accessible to him. You cry out as he moves you.

"I-I can't, Steve. I-" Your nearly inaudible mumbles are knocked from your mouth as he lands a hard open palm slap across your face.

"You're going to." He makes quick work of his belt and quickly aligns himself with your entrance. At one point all you wanted from him was this, but now you'd rather be anywhere else. Your cheek is ablaze, covered with a spreading stinging sensation. You're too distracted by the pain to notice Steve rearing back. He slams into you at full force, throwing his head back in ecstasy.

"Nooo!" You whine, unsure of how much more your body can truly take.

"Fuck!" He's almost primal when he's inside you, digging his fingertips into your flesh like he intends to take it off your body. "After all of that, you're still so fucking tight."

He reaches to your breasts and roughly gropes at the delicate skin. Your weak hand tries to tug at his wrist, but he simply flicks you away like a pest, continuing the assault. He slams into you, hoping to do more harm than anything, smiling at your sobbing face. Your makeup is a smeared mess and your hair is in disarray from the way you fought back on the table. You look pathetic to him and he loves it.

"You want to be filled up, don't you sweetheart?" He huffs, slowly approaching his climax. Your eyes open wide and a new wave of fear and adrenaline shoots through you, but you're still too weak to manage. Steve easily pins your wrists by your shoulders and thrusts deeper and deeper, hooking his hips to temporarily reach the very limit of your cunt.

"Please don't! Mr. Raglan, please!" You beg between gasping sobs as you listen to his labored breaths become unsteady. His agonizing thrusts lose their rhythm and suddenly you can feel his thick erection twitching inside you, brushing your G spot and carrying you over the edge again as well. You didn't even think that would be possible at this point.

You and Steve ride out your highs. He continues to pump into you making a heinous sound as he fucks his cum deeper inside you. To his surprise, he remains hard, so he continues to rut into your destroyed pussy until his legs threaten to give out. Steve finishes inside you a second time, laughing as he watches your horrified face realize how full of him you are. He's taking his time pulling out of you, playing with your cum soaked clit until you finally pass out from exhaustion.

Steve releases a breathy laugh as he fastens his belt and collapses in a chair nearby. You're lying there, naked and dripping cum from your swollen, demolished pussy. He can't get enough of this view. His original plan was to just get rid of you when he was done here, why not? But this is too much fun for him. Maybe he needs a new pet.

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stargirl-writes · 6 months

Text

[navigation] the secret history of anakin skywalker

pairing : assassin! reader x general anakin skywalker

status : ongoing

tags : enemies-to-lovers, SLOW burn, angst, hurt/comfort, mystery, espionage.

warnings: !mature content! (violence, mentions of abuse, mental corruption, mentions of suicide ideation) scheming, more mind games obvs, eventual smut(?) i'll be specifying on each blog !

read on ao3!

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sypnosis

you have only known one truth about this war, the republic and the seperatists are two sides of the same coin. but now, your master count dooku has disposed of you after your consequent failures. his betrayal fueled your thirst for revenge. and in the cruel twist of fate, you have found yourself with an arrangement with the enemy. general anakin skywalker is willing to do what it takes for the republic to win, even if it meant dealing with you, his nemesis.

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chapter summary / navigation

↝one

captured

chapter summary

your mission to secure umbara has failed. your master, count dooku would not have asked of anyone but you to deliver success. but as you stand amongst the pile of bodies of umbaran soldiers, the horror of your failure washes over you.

and in the hopelessness of events, a jedi appears amidst the ashes of your city. one that did not hesitate to kill the jedi general krell despite his jedi order's honor.

warnings : mentions of ptsd, mentions of abuse, war, mentions of a panic attack.

notes : centered around the same time as the clone wars season 4 episode 15.

↝two

the arrangement

chapter summary

after your old master has betrayed you, you were captured by the jedi general skywalker. stricken by the grief, you resigned to your faith.

on the way back to coruscant to face republic jurisdiction, a sniper has fired in open space. taking general obi-wan kenobi down.

in a fit of anger, anakin skywalker accuses you. but you have already made up your mind in taking revenge on your old master. and even though you are terrified, you struck up an arrangement to aid anakin's mission to find obi-wan kenobi's true killer.

warnings: violence, imprisonment, betrayal, mentions of ptsd.

notes : centered around the same time as the clone wars season 4 episode 15.

↝three

common ground

chapter summary

a clue tipped by the jedi council leads anakin skywalker back to your cell. now his anger has passed, he wants to clarify the terms of your new alliance.

on the way to nal hutta, anakin skywalker steers the conversation to his fascination over your beliefs— which legitimizes the doubts he's been having about the republic.

warnings : none so far.

notes : centers around the same time as the clone wars season 4 episodes 16-17

↝four

the attempt

chapter summary

rako hardeen escapes with two known bounty hunters on orandia. anakin skywalker claims obi wan kenobi remains alive. and a revelation by cad bane made you head down a bar and drink the night away.

warnings : drinking.

notes : involves spoilers for the clone wars season 4 episodes 16-17

coming soon...

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notes

hello my lovely people! thank u for taking interest in this story :)

i've always been in love with the enemies-to-lovers trope and this series would be canon compliant (at first) because i think it'd be more fitting to build on what filoni already established.

the timeline would be around season 4-7 of the clone wars.

and this series will be dark and angsty and contains mature content that i want to clarify is meant to serve the plot. and my depictions/interpretations is no way of endorsing or 'romanticizing' these situations.

anyway, i hope that i can fill your imaginations with this little thing i have in the works.

please don't post my works anywhere else. though likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreciated ! (and fuels me hehe)

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if you're looking to find more of my works, you can check out my navigation list !

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grievedeeply · 1 year

Note

Hii, could you maybe write some chishiya fluff? Something like him worrying about reader in a game and reuniting afterwards or just something you come up with...thanks💞

chishiya <3 i love him sooo much and seeing the new season rekindled that love so thanks for requesting! sorry it's short though :( this is set during season 1.

gn!reader | join my taglist!! | tags: @hawkins-hs @energeticsirens @alisblackgf @fiona782

tags: mentions of death. normal alice in borderland stuff. other than that, this is just fluff. implied that chishiya has feelings for the reader.. reader may or may not feel the same. it's up for interpretation lol

an exception — chishiya shuntaro

it was nothing.

the game was simple, and it was over before you knew it. you were skilled in physical activity and lived through it with relative ease. of course, watching everyone else around you die a horrible death was nothing easy to bear witness to, but you lived through it, equipped with wit and determination.

your walk back to the beach was quiet, and it had given you plenty of time to think. you thought of chishiya.. who was something like your best friend. or.. you thought he was. he was hard to read. ridiculously hard. you could never tell how he was feeling or what he was thinking, and he never told you either. he always wore that same cheshire smile on his lips whenever he looked at you, speaking as though he knew the answer to every problem that was presented in front of him.

though, that was far from the truth.

chishiya didn't know everything. he didn't know where you were. as uncomfortable as it felt admitting it to himself; he worried about you. he took pride in not getting attached to people. it would only cause him harm in this world. people died every day. he wouldn't be there to protect everyone he cared for.

you were an exception to that rule. an exception that he didn't realize was there until it was too late to change it. you had wiggled your way into his heart with kind smiles and reassuring words.. and he didn't find himself caring as much as he thought he would. you were with him to stay, and he didn't mind it.

though, he hated how strange it felt to be worried. normally, he didn't have to feel that way. he would hardly ever worry about kuina.. but you were different from her. something was different in terms of his relationship with you and he knew it. he didn't know how he felt about that, either. normally, he knew his opinion on everything. he knew his opinion on you was a positive one. you weren't annoying or bothersome, you didn't get in his way in games.. you were just there; a presence he enjoyed.

in the back of his mind, he knew you had probably went to a game. visas ran out quickly and he heard you mention to kuina that you would need to play soon. he didn't expect it to be that soon.

you'd lived through plenty of games before. you'd be fine.

you were fine. physically, at least. as easy as some of the games came to you, it wouldn't ever get easier mentally. seeing all of those people.. even if you never knew their names.. it was something that you knew would stay with you forever. you promised yourself that you'd remember them, though, and that helped you through it all. they didn't die in vain.. and you'd keep their memory living.

you let out a sigh as you entered the beach. still wearing the same swim suit you had on before you left a few days ago. you had a few extra ones that kuina had said would look good on you. you trusted her judgement. she was probably the one person you trusted to give fashion advice, anyways. she was your best friend and you met chishiya through her. it felt like forever ago in your mind

you made your way through the hallway towards your room, a friendly smile on your face. the truth was, you didn't trust anyone around you. the beach was supposedly a safe haven, a place where everyone could trust each other. though with people like niragi and last boss in charge of some of the operations there, you had a hard time feeling safe. hatter was an okay person.. but you would never understand how he could have any faith in them.

you pushed open the door to your room with your foot, knowing full well that it would be unlocked as all rooms were at the beach. it was part of hatter's policy. so were the swimsuits. at first, you hated it. though you quickly got used to it, wearing a jacket over your shoulders made it easier for you. as long as you couldn't carry weapons.

you took off your shoes, opting to put something more suitable on. getting them wet wouldn't be any fun.. especially since you were wearing socks. you were glad you wore them, since the game you played required on speed and athleticism. you were still a bit out of breath from all of the running you did while participating.

you took in a breath, pushing the door open again to exit back out into the hallway, only to be met by chishiya's form behind your door. his arms were crossed over his chest nonchalantly, glancing over at you as soon as he saw you through his peripheral. "hey," you muttered, "what's going on?" you asked, tucking your hands in your jacket pockets.

"where were you?" he changed the topic completely, still turned to face the wall opposite your room. you furrowed your brow, "why? did you miss me?" you laughed, letting out a breath when you got no response. you knew he wouldn't reply to a question like that. "i was at a game. my visa would've ran out tomorrow." you shrugged your shoulders, "didn't think i had to tell you where i was going."

technically, you were right. he didn't want to admit he was worried about you, not feeling up to being emotionally vulnerable with you. it wasn't as if he didn't care. you knew that, but he had a strange way of showing it. "just wondering." he said, finally turning his head to look at you. you met his eyes with pursed lips, and you shook your head, laughing slightly at his words.

you liked him. you wouldn't deny that. you liked his intelligence, his ability to read people as though they were open books. he was good at manipulating those he needed information from, and you were glad he didn't have the same guilty conscience you had for reasons like that. a part of you believed he was just wondering where you were.. but you wanted to believe he cared enough about you to worry.

knowing him, he could just be using you like he had done with other people. you could only hope he wasn't.

he wouldn't ever dream of using you. he wanted you safe and he would be lying if he said he didn't let out a sigh of relief when you came through the doors of the beach like you had done so many times before. he knew you were fully capable.. but he cared. he cared a lot more than he wanted to admit.

you were one of the only people he had ever found himself enjoying the company of. you never pushed him. you didn't insult him like some of the militants seemed to enjoy doing. you thought of him as you did anyone else. a human. he enjoyed that respect, and he respected you in turn. through it, he managed to learn to care for you.

"you want me to tell you next time?" your voice broke the silence. you stared at him, eyebrows raised. your eyes were soft. you were being completely genuine, not judging him for not explicitly saying how he felt. he nodded, not breaking your gaze. "okay." you hummed in response, taking his shoulders in your hands with a warm smile.

"sorry i worried you, chishiya." you chuckled, your grin turning playful. he rolled his eyes, shaking his shoulders out of your grip.

he liked your ability to calm down any situation. your ability to ease his nerves.

"i'll tell you next time. maybe you can come with me." you proposed with a shrug of your shoulders. "maybe." he said back, letting out a sigh.

just from the look in your eyes, he could tell you were being genuine with him. he was always good at reading you.

#alice in borderland x you #alice in borderland x reader #alice in borderland x reader headcanons #alice in borderland #aib x you #aib x reader #aib #chishiya x reader #shuntaro chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya shuntaro x reader #shuntaro chishiya x reader

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e-dubbc11 · 3 months

Note

If you'd like to here's a wee request for your winter sleepover! ☃️

F!Reader, Frank, and Billy are friends but Bill knows damn well that you and Frank have been eyeing each other up for ages but neither has been bold enough to make a move. Maybe he intervenes and stages something cute or where they're forced to be together alone, and things get fluffy and sweet between them ☺️🥰

Stef! Thank you for sending in this ask! I’ve never really written for Frank as the object of the reader’s affection before but this was fun! I hope you like it!

Bullseye

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Frank Castle x F! Reader; supporting character Billy Russo

Warnings: Swear words, mentions of a divorce and a miscarriage, mention of the death of Frank’s family (Billy was no part of it in this little au, I can’t write that, I just can’t), and fluff

Word Count: 1.5K-ish

Summary: You join your friends dart league. She thinks it will be good for you to get out of the house and also thinks someone new might catch your eye.

A/N: I guess you could say this is my first Frank fic. Just a little meet cute. I wasn’t sure who to tag for this one, I hope it’s ok I just put everyone from my Billy tag list on this one

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“What do I know about throwin’ darts?!” You asked with narrowed eyes and a slight scowl on your face, planting another dart near the bullseye.

“You know a lot more than you think you do, that’s for sure, y/n!” Jamie said. “I’ve never seen anyone that has picked it up like you have.”

Taking a sip of your beer, you replied, “Jamie, I’m just messin’ around, I don’t know shit about throwin’ them, let alone enough to be in the league with you.”

She took a sip from her glass.

“Come on! It’s just for fun anyway! I get a break from my husband and the kids for a few hours a week and you…” she paused, “You get a break from your couch.”

“HEY!” You said, slightly perturbed at her statement. Although she wasn’t wrong. You haven’t really been out much since your divorce.

After a couple of beers and a few casual rounds of darts, you agreed to join Jamie’s league. She had been wanting you to join and be on her team for awhile now. She also thought it would be the perfect way to get you out of the house and among the land of the living again.

The divorce was hard on you. After your miscarriage, your ex-husband withdrew from you and there was no coming back from it. The distance was too far and he thought it would be best if you just separated. HE thought it would be best…he didn’t care what you wanted.

But if he didn’t want to try and work through the pain and the hurt of it all, then you didn’t want to either. He found someone new right away and his new wife was ready to give birth any day now which is why you were out with Jamie, trying to drink your problems away…even if it was just for a little while.

“Ok, that was a little harsh. Your ex is a dickhead who abandoned you at your lowest point and I would do anything to see you genuinely happy again.” Said Jamie.

With a shy smile, you said, “I’d really like to be happy again too.”

**********

Your weekly outing of throwing darts was a lot more fun than you thought it would be. Plus, the scenery was great…Frank Castle and Billy Russo. Billy was traditionally handsome, deep brown eyes, well-groomed beard, nice clothes, and a sexy voice. But Frank…there was just something about him that drew you in.

He wasn’t traditionally handsome like Billy but Frank just had something that had you stealing glances when he wasn’t looking. The deep gruff tone to his voice was incredibly sexy; you could tell his nose had been broken on more than one occasion but that just made him more attractive to you.

Jamie let him teach you the rules and regulations of the game. She knew he would have to get close, possibly put his hands on you to show you some things. She kind of had a feeling you might be into Frank.

“Is THIS why you wanted me to join?!” You whispered yelled into her ear.

Jamie’s lips curled into a sly smile. “Whaaaat? Nothing wrong with a little handsome scenery. If I wasn’t married, I’d ride Billy like a rented mule but I thought Frank seemed more like your type.” She said.

Looking over at Frank and Billy talking, you bit back a smile and turned back to talk to Jamie. “Frank is very handsome and he’s very sweet. He has sadness in his eyes though.”

After you said that, Jamie went on to tell you that Frank had a family. He had a wife and two kids. Billy had told her what happened to them, helped Frank get even for what those assholes did but it’s not like it brings them back.

That story broke you. To have your whole family taken from you and there was nothing you could do to stop it sounded excruciating. You had lost a baby but nothing like what Frank had been through.

Billy and Frank were still talking.

“Frankie…” Said Billy.

Frank, continuing to practice, replied, “Yeah…what is it, Bill?”

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that y/n has a little bit of a crush on you.” Billy said with a wide Cheshire cat smile.

Frank took a glance over his shoulder at you.

“Ya think so huh? Well you would notice that, right Bill?” Said Frank. “She is beautiful but her eyes are sad. Wonder what happened to her?”

Your first week of playing darts, you had a little too much beer and told Billy about your divorce, your miscarriage, and how your ex walked out on you. It probably wasn’t one of your finer moments but it was out there now and you couldn’t take it back.

Anger stretched across Frank’s face. “Fuckin’ scumbag.” He growled.

Billy had a serious tone to his voice. “Look Frankie, she's experienced loss too albeit a little different from yours…you should talk to her. Plus, she blushes every time you look at her.”

Frank stopped throwing darts, looked at Billy and replied, “A loss is a loss Bill, it hurts no matter what. Yeah, maybe I will talk to her.”

**********

You and Frank continued to dance around each other for another few weeks. They were filled with stolen glances and smiles. Frank did give you a few lessons on how to throw a little better.

You could feel his warm breath against the top of your ear, the way his shoulder touched yours when he would stand behind you, and the gravelly tone to his voice gave you goosebumps as he was giving you pointers.

“Good…line it up now, yeah? That’s it. Now remember, a short hard flick of the wrist and…let it go, sweetheart. That’s better, stable grip and not too tight. Attagirl.” He said with a smirk.

It wasn’t easy to get a smile out of Frank but it looked good on him. You, on the other hand, were elated after hitting three bullseyes in a row.

After taking a sip of beer, Frank asked, “You been divorced long? Sorry, I’m not exactly subtle. Bill mentioned it to me.”

“Yeah, I told Billy a lot that night, didn’t I.” You said, slightly embarrassed.

“Bill has a big mouth sometimes but he’s trying to help.” He said. “He’s tryin’ to play matchmaker is what he’s doin’.”

Heat rose to your cheeks, you felt butterflies in your stomach, and warmth stretched across your chest. You tried to cover your face a little so Frank couldn’t see you blushing.

Frank brought up your divorce but you decided against talking about his family; maybe you would just let him bring it up if he ever felt comfortable enough to.

Noticing it was a little too quiet in the bar, you took a sip from your glass and looked around. No one from your team was in sight, not Jamie, not Billy…nobody. You only saw members of the team you were supposed to be playing in a few minutes.

“Frank?” You asked.

“Yeah sweetheart?” Asked Frank, holding the dark and aiming it at the target.

“Where…where did everyone go?” You asked.

With narrowed eyes and a furrowed brow, Frank took a quick look around the bar, then took a look outside. Billy’s car was gone and so was Jamie’s. Frank stormed back inside and took out his phone as you tried to stifle a smile.

“I’ll kill him; he’s my ride home.” Said Frank.

Frank stepped away so you couldn’t really hear his conversation with Billy.

As Frank walked back to where you were standing, you asked, “What did he say? Where are they?”

Frank smirked, putting his phone back in his pocket, he replied, “Well, he said he’s not telling us where they went, that they forfeited the match, and we should relax, have a drink and get to know each other a little better. He’ll be back later to get me.”

“They forfeited!? I HATE losing! Jamie knows that I HATE to lose!” You said with clenched fists and through gnashed teeth.

“I hate to lose; Bill does too but he always said if it was for the greater good then it was ok.” Frank said in a low voice with a slight smile.

You smiled warmly at him. “You must be the greater good for him then.”

Frank inched closer, you could feel his warm breath against your eyelashes as he replied, “I guess I am. He’s a good friend.” Pointing at your glass and walking away from you, toward the bar, he asked, “You ready for a refill, sweetheart?”

For the first time in a long time, you had gone through a stretch of time without thinking about your ex-husband or feeling sorry for yourself.

Maybe you were finally ready to move on with your life and enjoy the little things in it like darts with friends and drinks with a handsome man with kind brown eyes.

“Oh…yes please. I am…very ready.” You said softly.

You were definitely excited for more nights like this.

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialend @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @russosafehaven @mrsbillyrusso @ittybxttykxttytxtty

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle fanfiction #billy russo #frank castle imagine #winter sleepover 2024 #ericca answers

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slashersteve · 2 years

Text

Just Hold Me

requested by anonymous

pairing: Steve Harrington/Female Reader

summary: Your new nightmares cause you to distance yourself from your boyfriend while he’s still healing from the wounds that could’ve killed him. Steve isn’t going to let you though, and begs you to spend the night with him.

warnings/extra tags: mentions of death, injuries, nightmares/night terrors, angst, comfort, soft and caring steve who's still healing from his own injuries :( , kissing :) , beta read, editted by me and autocorrect

note: this fic is a whole "idc about what happens in v2" because in my hc vecna gets annihilated (again) and doesn't get the chance to murder and traumatize anyone else...at least like...a little... anyway thank you for the request and as always enjoy!

✧ ✧ ✧

You were no stranger to night terrors. Hell, they were all that you had following that night you, Nancy Wheeler, and Jonathan Byers hunted and trapped the demogorgon that terrorized Hawkins in 83 and killed Nancy's best friend Barbara.

The dreams of this over 9 foot tall, inter dimensional creature that had sharp claws and rows, and rows of teeth made the nightmares you’d have before look like child’s play. Mostly because it was real, as the dream of a clown chasing you as a kid with a knife was not, but this creature? It was real, you even had the scar to prove it.

As the years passed, your nightmares would not only get worse but actually expand. You would not only hear the clicking and whistling of a demogorgon crawling through your wall or a demodog hiding in the bushes as you were typically trapped in the middle of the woods in your nightmares but also smell the stench of burnt human flesh and feel the ground shaking beneath you as you ran away from this unstoppable being. That was courtesy of the Mind Flayer last summer, of course.

After going through what you had been through, along with the others, it was just something that you’d have to, not get used to per say, but more so…deal with and work through.

The most common way was to talk to the others about it, share your nightmares and don’t let it bottle up. That’s what you and Steve did, as many times either you or him have woken up in a cold sweat and had to dial the others number to talk to each other. It was always easier if you were next to each other though, so that you could hold him or he could hold you.

And it was a system that worked, up until very recently.

These new nightmares that plagued you were on a different level of horrifying. After experiencing the dimension these creatures came from first-hand, things had taken a turn for the worse mentally (and physically as you were sure you were short of breath more frequently).

They weren't just about being trapped there, and attacked by what you and your friends who were with you elected to call demobats, or about just you getting fatally injured anymore, but rather about...somebody else and that was your boyfriend, Steve Harrington.

You've dreamt of it before, but in the week following your forced adventure to the Upside Down, it was taking a heavy toll on you because it didn't seem very far off from what actually had happened.

One of these dreams always started with you in the water of Lover's Lake, and it's deeper in your dream than it actually was. You're swimming down as fast as you could in total darkness, water filling up your lungs and your body growing heavy with fatigue, but you never stopped in the dream because you knew who you were swimming toward.

Then, you're in the Upside Down, and you can't breathe in the thick, particle filled air of this other world that mirrored yours, and instead of swimming, now you're running.

Except, you're slow, too slow and all you could hear are the horrid, loud screeches of the demobats that are in the cloudy sky above you and circling something in the distance like how vultures might circle a deteriorating animal carcass.

The red flashes of lightning are almost deafening, as if they are hitting right next to you rather than in the distance like they actually had been and you're still running in slow-motion when everything around you is not. Like the being here was teasing you, and...well he was.

You're still running, except now you're a little closer, and that's when you see who you're trying to get to. It's Steve, he's standing there covered in his own blood, and open wounds, swinging an oar to try and get the swarm of demobats away from him.

He's grunting and he is yelling, and it's echoing in your ears. You call out to him, but he doesn't hear you, and then, the swarm engulfs him and you hear a final cry before your gasping awake in your bedroom.

It takes you a moment to realize you're awake, that you're not desperately running to Steve in the Upside Down or that you were drenched in your own sweat rather than the lake water of Lover's Lake.

For a few seconds, you still hear Steve's shout of pain, echoing in your mind. When the echo is gone, and you realize you're on your own bed in the darkness of your room, you're hyperventilating and trying to catch your breath as tears streamed down your cheeks.

You don't fall asleep again, and rather stay sitting up, hugging your knees in your chest and crying until the sun begins to peak through the sheer curtains of your bedroom window.

✧ ✧ ✧

Steve was excused from his job at Hawkins Family Video because of his injuries that nearly killed him in the Upside Down and after, and because of this, you had taken up most of his shifts since you weren't a high schooler like Robin was.

For the first few days of his medical leave, you would spend everyday with him after you clocked out, even when you had a closing shift past midnight.

Recently though, you stopped doing it.

The first night you didn't go over when he knew your shift was over, he called Family Video asking where you were. Robin had been the one to answer, and had told him you left hours ago.

It was stupid of you to disappear like that without warning, you knew that, especially since what happened only over a week ago when Vecna was killing teens left and right. You scared them, you scared him, but a single phone call that night assured Steve you were okay, that you were just tired of the long shifts and needed a night to recharge and promised to tell him next time.

He understood of course, and it only made you feel bad because the real reason was every time you looked at him, you could only think of your nightmares. Every time your eyes caught the bandages around his abdomen or the still visible bruising around his neck, you felt like you couldn't breathe again.

It was worse when he'd ask you to help him switch the bandage out. His wounds simply scared you, and so did the small sounds of pain when you had to take the bloody gauze pad off to exchange for a new one. Your body would freeze over, and then...you would find a reason to leave.

After a second time of not going to visit him again, you felt bad about leaving him alone, so you asked Robin if she could go see him for you.

"I don't think I'm the one he wants to see, but if that's what you want then alright," Robin told you, "Are you okay, though? I mean...I don't see how any of us can be okay after all that...but..."

"Yeah, I'm as okay as I can be," you lied with a convincing smile, "My mom just needs me home tonight since I've been at his place all last week, could you tell him that?"

Robin stared at you for a long moment, as if she could see right through you.

"Hey," she started, "We're all friends here who experienced all that...shit, I just...want to remind you that. If something's wrong then you know it makes sense for us to talk and help each other."

You knew that, you always have and considering how Vecna took and manipulated his victims, keeping things in like this was not a great idea, and yet, you were keen on keeping it to yourself for now.

"I'm okay, Robin," you told her as you were pulling out the headphones to your walkman and putting them over your head, "Tell Steve that too, please?"

You didn't wait for an answer, already turning your music on and giving her a thumbs up.

Had you not turned your music on, you would've heard Robin's skeptical response.

"Sure, I'll lie to him for you," Robin had said before watching you walk out through the front door to go on your lunch break.

Robin visited Steve that night, and then the night after that, and then the morning after that, but this time with Dustin at her side.

Steve was sitting in bed when they came barging in, and for a moment, his eyes had lit up because he was sure you would be one of them, but when he saw Robin (again) and then Dustin and his dumb hat, Steve didn't hide his disappointment even though they had bags of food and more movies for him to keep himself occupied today.

"You guys again?" he asked.

"Hey, it's my first time coming to visit you since last week," Dustin proclaimed, offended by such a question and Robin pat his head.

"It's not you Henderson, it's me he's so excited to see again," Robin told the kid.

Dustin raised a curious brow, and asked why Robin was the one seeing him the past few days and not you. Robin shrugged and crossed her arms while Steve frowned deeply.

"She coming tonight?" Steve asked Robin, and she shrugged to him this time in response as she sat on the end of his bed and Dustin moved to set down the bags of things on the desk in Steve's room.

Steve shook his head and flipped the covers off of him when Dustin turned and grimaced.

"Dude put some pants on, there's a girl here," Dustin told him with disgust, to which Steve gave him a look because he was literally wearing boxer shorts. It wasn't good or respectful enough for Dustin, who grasped some folded, freshly washed sweatpants that were stacked on top of other folded clothes on his desk chair and tossed it at Steve.

It hit him in the chest, and Robin had let out a short laugh as she fell backwards onto his bed. Her head knocked into something hard, and she raised a brow as she stuck her hand under her head and realized she had hit her head on a book.

Steve slowly put the sweats on as he asked again for clarification, "So she isn't coming today?"

"Based on her track record the past few days, I would say don't count on it," Robin replied to him as she stared up at the book, and he scowled.

He couldn't help but be agitated that his own girlfriend was very clearly avoiding him.

At the sight of Steve's graveling, Dustin huffed and said, "It's only been a few days Steve, you'll survive, I mean, I can't even see Suzie because we're states apart."

Steve rested his unamused expression on Dustin while he pushed his messy strands of hair out of his face and said, "Henderson, you chose to date a girl who lived in Utah, and it's not just that, something's wrong, she wouldn't just stop coming to see me..."

"Maybe she's just tired of playing nurse, I know I would be," Robin said as she set the book aside, and it was her turn to get Steve's unamused glare, she cringed and said, "It's only a joke, but yeah I would say something's up."

Dustin had moved the clothes off the desk chair and sat down, and said, "Well, it has just been a week since Vecna, so maybe she just needs some space mentally."

Steve looked at Dustin for a moment, before his eyes fell down.

You were distancing yourself, that much was obvious, but the reasoning for it wasn't as obvious to Steve. He knew it wasn't out of malicious intent and that was reassuring, but he knew it wasn't for a good reason either.

He missed you, a lot, even though it's only been a few days like Dustin said. Being home all of the time on bed rest was boring, and left him alone with his thoughts for too long. His highlight the past week was you showing up to brighten his dull days spent in his room, talking to him, kissing him, and overall just being there.

Really though, he wanted you here to see that you were okay rather than you sending others to tell him that you were when everyone knew you weren't.

"She still look tired?" Steve suddenly asked Robin, and she nodded.

"No more than the rest of us, honestly, but more tired than she usually looks," she replied, leaning on one hand to look at Steve sympathetically.

Everyone was quiet, as they too weren't strangers to a loss of sleep due to the terrifying experiences they've all had and up until now, it just wasn't as scary as before considering one of Vecna's curse symptoms was loss of sleep. He was gone now though, as far as they knew, so it wasn't that. Something else was wrong, and Steve just needed and wanted to see you.

And thankfully, Robin and Dustin were on his side with this one.

Because of Steve's gloomy demeanor, Robin held up the book and said jokingly, "Have you been so bored without her that you started to read? I didn't even know you could."

His head snapped towards her, seeing the book you had given him back when he was in the hospital to try and keep him busy when you couldn't be there due to the strict visiting hours.

"It's another joke, god, we'll get your girlfriend over here so you can get that sense of humor back," Robin said, while Dustin laughed himself. Steve shook his head, but a small smile grew on his lips regardless.

That afternoon you were restocking videos on a shift with Keith when Robin and Dustin approached you.

You knew Robin had gone to see Steve, so when you saw their concerned expressions and considered the fact they were coming to you in the middle of your shift, you automatically assumed the worst.

"Why do you guys look so upset? Is it Steve? Is he okay?" you asked the both of them almost frantically. Dustin waved his hand side to side.

"No, no Steve's o-"

"Here's an idea," Robin cut Dustin off before he could assure you Steve was okay, physically at least, "Why don't you go down there and see for yourself if he's okay."

It wasn't condescending at all when she told you that, but your heart fell like it was, like she was insulting your ability to be a good girlfriend to her best friend.

Dustin cleared his throat when he saw your torn expression and added, "He misses you, I mean, he always does even before this, which I don't see why since he used to see you everyday here..."

There was this ongoing feud between him and Dustin about Dustin believing Steve had no right to miss you after a few days or even hours that you were reminded of again. It made you want to smile.

"You should probably go see him, it was really depressing this morning," Dustin finished, making your almost smile completely vanish and be re-replaced by the same frown that's been on your face since your night terrors began.

"Look," Robin started, "Henderson is right on the money here, he doesn't want to see me, or him, or anybody else, he wants to see you, so tonight, go see him, even if just for a bit."

You inhaled deeply, but didn't say anything as you slowly began to continue shelving the tapes before Keith told you something.

Dustin and Robin looked at each other, and now he sighed, "I'm just saying, whatever is going on with you, he's probably going through the same thing, and being apart isn't helping you or him. Remember, all we have is each other, isn't that what you said a couple years ago?"

You snapped your head toward Dustin because he was right. You did say that once, after you, him, Steve, Max, and Lucas were almost killed by a bunch of demodogs. You had said it when Dustin and Lucas were arguing about who betrayed the party when you were walking in the woods, and they decided to forgive each other.

You can't believe he remembered that, but you could believe he used it to make you feel even worse about not seeing Steve. Your boyfriend's unofficial little brother was too smart at his age, you were sure of it.

They could tell by the look in your eyes that you were convinced to see Steve tonight, and when you turned around, Robin and Dustin lightly high-fived.

✧ ✧ ✧

Your shift ended just after 10 pm, and even after Robin and Dustin left, you knew you were going to force yourself to go see Steve. It was easy during work, as you could preoccupy your thoughts with helping someone find the right movie, taking out the trash, helping Keith with the returns, but when you were alone in your car, you felt that same anxiety wash over you, the kind that made your skin feel cold and your hands feel tingly and uncomfortable.

It was just Steve, your handsome boyfriend of 2 and a half years now, someone that you loved and could see yourself being with for the rest of your life if he would have you, you loved him, he was okay- injured yes, but okay.

And your nightmares were exactly what they were, nightmares, and you shouldn't let them keep you from him, not after Vecna tried to isolate Max from you guys.

When you finally made it to Steve's house, he was sitting in bed still with a book in his hands. It was the book you'd brought to him when he was still in the hospital because he needed something to do when you weren't there. He wasn't that big of a reader, but you told him to try anyways for you.

It was nice to see that he was, even though he hadn't even made it halfway through. Still, he must've been engrossed in it if he didn't even hear his door being open. He was even wearing reading glasses, and it made you smile softly.

You hadn’t seen him for a while so you took a moment to admire your boyfriend like you always did. You first let your eyes scan over his messy hair. He hasn’t been styling it because he had no reason to as of late, so his thick hair was sticking up in various directions. He was shirtless too and wearing those gray sweatpants of his.

Your eyes rested on his chest, admiring the chest hair there for longer than normal before your eyes fell to the bandage wrapped around his abdomen. That's when your smile began to falter, and the anxiety returned.

You had inhaled sharply, capturing Steve's attention finally. His eyes snapped upward, and his face instantly lit up at the sight of you.

"You're here!" he said, closing and practically tossing the book onto his nightstand and tearing off the reading glasses he didn't realize he needed until he started to read again.

Despite the anxiety bubbling in your stomach and chest, you still found yourself smiling at his excitement to see you.

"If you didn't come today, I was going to defy the doctor's orders and drive to your house," Steve admitted to you as he sat more up. He clenched his teeth then, and you knew the simple movement had hurt him, resulting in your own chest hurting too.

"I'm sorry I haven't been coming around," you said truthfully, "All the extra shifts Keith puts me on have been exhausting."

You stepped further into the room, but didn't move close enough to kiss Steve like you always did. Instead, you stayed a good few feet away from him, your eyes scanning over the untouched stacks of movies you knew Robin and Dustin had brought him.

"I promise when I'm healed I'll make it up to you," Steve told you, you hummed in response, but didn't say much else. Steve stared at the side of your face with a frown on his lips, as he expected you to sit beside him or at least get closer to him.

"Hey," Steve called, making you look at him and he pat the spot beside him, "Come here."

You hesitated, eyes flashing from the space beside him and back at him. He noticed your eyes passing over his bandages, and he grinned at you softly, "You're not going to hurt me if you sit next to me, I promise. I'm not that fragile."

You pressed your lips together, and slowly went to sit beside Steve, sitting farther from him than he had wanted you to. Steve exhaled softly and moved closer to you, raising both of his brows questionably.

"Are you sure it's just the extra shifts?" he asked you, and you nodded in response.

"Yeah, it's a lot," you replied, half-lying and half telling the truth, "I also thought you'd like a change from just seeing me."

Steve scoffed, "You think I want to see Robin and Dustin every day rather than my own girlfriend?"

You giggled then and Steve laughed too, then settled his eyes back on you, and told you, "I don't mean to be...that guy...but...I haven't seen you in a few days and I want to kiss you so bad." That made you laugh again, so you leaned in to peck him gently on the lips.

It wasn't enough for Steve though, as you felt his hand reach up to gently grasp the back of your neck and pull you toward him again. His lips met yours in a tender kiss.

Your initial concerns faded away as he kissed you, as you were reminded in this moment of how good of a kisser your boyfriend was. His lips expertly sliding against yours, and the gentle swipe of his tongue over your bottom lip that made you putty in his hands making you realize how much you've missed kissing him too.

You tilted your head, giving him more access to your lips. Steve chuckled softly when you did so, and released your lips to say, "I guess I'm making those extra shifts up to you right now."

You licked your own lips, and simply leaned in to kiss him again in response. Steve smiled before returning your kiss, this time slipping his tongue in between your lips.

You fell forward then, and just as his tongue met yours, he suddenly grunted in pain. You immediately stopped, and snapped your eyes open and saw Steve's face was in a slight wince.

"Sorry," he told you, and your eyes widened as you leaned away from him realizing in your stupor you had touched his sides, "It wasn't you, I just turned awkwardly-"

"I-I think I have to go," you said suddenly, feeling guilty for having hurt him even though he said it wasn't you who did it. You still felt like you caused it.

Steve frowned, "No, don't- don't go, at least not yet- you barely got here."

"I know and I'm sorry, Steve," you were already trying to stand but Steve caught you, his brown eyes growing sad, and you said regretfully, "It's late Steve."

"I know but, I was thinking you could spend the night," Steve suggested, and a wave of fear washed over you, not sure if that was possible without having your reoccurring nightmare, "Come on...I've been alone all day and...honestly I don't want to be alone tonight."

You thought about all the nights you've spent gasping awake from your nightmares, how you would sit alone in the darkness of your room and found that it was the same for you. Maybe actually being with Steve was the cure to them, rather than the cause.

"Yeah...I don't want to be alone either," you admitted to him, and Steve smiled weakly at you before he pulled you back on the bed with him, except this time you didn't let him pull you closer or coax you into another heated kiss much to his dismay.

Rather, you laid beside him, keeping your attention on the movie you had put on in the TV in his room. You ended up falling asleep though, your eyes fluttering shut about halfway through the film.

For the first few seconds, your subconscious was blissfully quiet, and peaceful, giving you the impression that tonight would be the first night you didn't have that night terror...well...until you heard a splash of water and a loud crack of lightning.

Steve was laying beside your sleeping figure, his eyes starting to flutter shut and join you in sleep when suddenly the bed jolted underneath him. His tired eyes snapped open, and he thought maybe he had one of those jerks or something that tend to happen before people fall asleep and they feel like they're falling, but when it happened again and a quiet whimper that he didn't make followed it, Steve knew that wasn't it.

Rubbing his eyes, he turned his head to look at you. You were laying on your side facing him. You jerked again, waking Steve up even more, and he sat up to get a better look at you.

From the light of the television that reflected on you, he could see your troubled expression. Your face was contorted, eyebrows taunt and your lips were parted. Very obviously you were dreaming, and he was willing to bet it wasn't a good one.

"Hey, babe," Steve tried, reaching one hand over to you to gently rest on your shoulder. You shook away from him, quick paced breaths releasing through your parted lips as one would when they were on a run. Steve's stomach dropped, and he ignored the pain in his healing wounds as he turned his whole body toward you, trying to shake you awake.

As he, Dustin, and Robin figured, you were suffering from nightmares, and the content of them could've been anything, but at this moment Steve just wanted to make you wake up, especially when tears began to squeeze out of your eyes and your fast breaths turned into quiet cries.

"Hey! Wake up! You're having a nightmare!" he said louder, and finally your eyes snapped open and you were gasping loudly as you jolted upward without warning. Steve had even released you as you were suddenly sitting up, hands moving over your face as you cried into them due to your night terror.

Steve sighed out of relief though that he managed to get you awake, and then he said, "Hey- hey come here, it was just a nightmare-" His hand touched your shoulder blade affectionately.

Upon hearing his voice and feeling his gentle touch on your back, you were pulled back into reality faster than the other time's you've woken up from your dream. Your breaths slowed down, and Steve gently scooted toward you, wrapping his arm fully around you as he told you quietly, "It's alright, it was just a nightmare-"

You leaned into Steve, your quiet cries turning into sobs as you sought comfort in his warm embrace, something that you didn't have these past nights and was actually depriving yourself of.

Steve held you then, letting you press your head against his chest to listen to his beating heart and the pain that he typically with every moment seemed to have subsided so that he could continue holding you.

"It's alright," he told you again softly, "I'm right here, it was just a dream...just a bad dream."

Steve didn't even know the content of your nightmares, that you were dreaming of losing him in the Upside Down, but he somehow knew it was exactly what you needed to hear. You nodded against him, nuzzling your face into his chest and taking his presence in.

After a moment of sitting here with him like this, Steve asked if you wanted to talk about it.

Your voice was hoarse as you told him not yet, but promisied you would tell him all about it later as you now realized it was something you needed to talk about in order to get through.

Steve accepted your response, knowing that you would tell him perhaps in the morning, and he asked, "Is there anything I can do right now?"

You inhaled deeply, taking in his unique scent, and replied softly, "Just keep holding me, Steve, please."

And he did.

He held you tightly against him, up until your heart calmed down and your body stopped trembling, up until you started to drift off to sleep again, which was something you couldn't do when you were alone and without him.

You don’t remember if the nightmare happened again when you fell asleep, but what you do remember is waking up still in Steve’s warm embrace with the sun barely peeking through the curtains of his window and then kissing Steve awake.

#the way this title has me sobbing #and me and this imagine almost threw hands because tumblr kept crashing and deleting everything :)))))#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #stranger things imagines #stranger things #reader insert #female reader #imagines #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfic #lys writes again

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zendwrotes · 7 months

Note

Hi, there :D! First time resquest here but if it's not too much trouble, I would like to resquest:

Type: Headcanons

Reader: Neutral

Characters: (TWST) Silver, Riddle and Jack

With a partner who has the talent of being able to imitate the voice of anyone including his partner. It's not magic, it's a skill that the reader knew how to develop .

Remember take your time and no pressure, thank you 💐💗🌠

— Them with a Reader who can imitates voices !

⤷ a/n : sorry for my sudden disappearance for weeks, i'm busy with things recently. . . but anyways ! we're back with my poor ass writing, my askbox is still opening so feel free. remember to read guildlines first. please correct me if i made any mistakes in the askbox.

★ characters : riddle rosehearts｜jack howl｜silver

“ tags — gender neutral reader, imitates voices, twst, twst x gn!reader, reader uses you/your pronouns. . .

・warnings : none !

— riddle actually very - and yes by very i really meant it - surprises about that you can imitate voices.

— you have imitated cater's voice once in order to tricked him and riddle was not very happy about that. HOWEVER - ahem, however, that is the reason why he found out you can imitate voices without in need of magic.

— he has tried to ask you how did you do it but you only said it was a secret skill of yours. i mean you did learn it for so long so why would you say the tips - or the whole thing - of doing that to the others.

— but okay, look, if you keep imitate voices of his dorm students, he won't hesitated to give you an "off with your head" and tell you to walk around him.

— the students literally complain how you imitate riddle's voice to trick them over and over again. somehow, riddle likes that but he didn't act it publicly.

— you can also imitate his voice ? that's a new note for him. he will try to ask you to do that some days.

❝ I have heard the complains about you all the time. But I'm impressed that you can imitate other's voices, even mine. Unfortunately for you, you need to stop that action of yours, the students are not very happy about that. I will not hesitated to wrap your neck with a collar if you disobey my warning and if the students keep complaining about that. Don't make me do the hard way for you. ❞

— jack was kinda surprised at first when you imitate leona's voice (to trick him of course.), he thought that it was real leona himself !

— you have told him about your skill, how you could imitate the others' voices without magic. jack was really impressed by that.

— in my opinion, he would eventually try to imitate the other's voice like what you did too but he failed terribly. you did help him in some ways though, he really happy about that.

— you could invite him to join your voices trick thing, he thought maybe he could learn something from your trick.

— how he discovered you could also imitate his voice ? well, uh, ruggie told him about it. he said he was just chilling when he heard jack's voice said that leona needs him to clean the room again, turned out it was just you laughing for your dear life when he found out.

— yeah, jack did chuckle at that a bit, but still, you're starting to annoy the other students in the dorm.

— he has come to you to talk about it apparently. after all, he doesn't want leona to hear about the student's complaining, especially if the complaining about you.

❝ Hey, I think you're going a bit too far now. Maybe you should limit your tricks toward the others? I don't want the dorm leader to hear about this at all. . . If you keep doing it, I won't be hesitating with you. Limit it or else. I don't want to hurt you or see you hurt, okay? ❞

— this sleepy head doesn't even surprised when you can imitate the others' voices. i mean he did, just not acting it in front of you.

— he caught you imitated malleus' voice once and he's still trying to be normal after that. (he couldn't get the fact that you could do this to sebek and ruin his sleep, he doesn't mind if lilia and malleus know this though. . .)

— silver has tried to talk to you about how, how did you even imitate voices only by skill ? he's only questioning that to be honest.

— as long as you didn't annoy the others much, he's fine with that. but unfortunately it's not what he wants, haha.

— you tricked the students all days, even malleus knows that but he lets you do it because he thinks it's kinda fun to see the dorm "hyped up" with your tricks. (he just wants his dorms to finally have some more noises instead of him with his closed people noises okay.)

— however, silver still walked up to you and talk about it. no offense to you though, he's impressed that you can imitate voices anyways.

— ah, how can i imagine this sleepy boy of our saying to you ? he doesn't want you to stop though, it is making the prince of Briar Valley happy so.

❝ Okay Prefect, I don't want to stop you from tricking people with your special skill. But please, don't put me in. I know that you can also imitate my voice, you can't hide from me. However, I don't mind it, as long as you don't include me. I meant no offense, but maybe try to limit that? . . .Oh. You want me to join your tricks? I would if I'm in the mood. ❞ (and he never in the mood to join but he did watch you tricking people.)

final note ／ hope you all having fun with my writings. because i'm not sastify with it already but practice makes perfect, isn't it? anyways, please request so that i'll have the things to do.

#twst #twst x reader #twst x gn reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts x gn reader #jack howl x reader #jack howl x gn reader #silver twst x gn reader #silver twst x reader

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crescentfool · 27 days

Note

What are your ryomina headcanons? I've loved these two since I played P3 FES, and I'm so excited to get back into the fandom^^

hi!! thank you so much for the ask, welcome back to the p3 fandom, it's always a delight to see new and old ryomina fans alike! 🥺💛💙

as for headcanons, here's a "few" i that i tend to come back to a lot! my interpretations of them are influenced from both the source material and other's fanworks, so i've linked to them as i saw fit! hcs in no particular order under the cut because oops this got long (900 word bullet point list, mentions of reload content up to 1/1)

minato's hair is dyed blue (hair originally brown, you can see it in his roots!) and he has a beauty mark on under his left eye. i like mirror imagery and there's definitely a few arts i've rb'd that portray them this way :) (e.g. this one by feliichu and this one by marasschino)

as far as i'm concerned the bathhouse scene from the manga where ryoji's hair down = similar shape to minato? that is canon to me. this art from xierru is a fun depiction of hair down ryoji :D

ryoji is homeless. everyone say thank you foxmulder_whereartthou for this awesome fic it's why i have the headcanon! but like seriously. we have no idea where ryoji lives and i could believe this.

minato dying at the end of the game is sad to an outsider's POV BUT!!! ryomina gets to be together in death for the rest of their lives (this illustration from mafuwara is a gorgeous representation of them as nyx avatar + the seal)!

speaking of the seal, they are like telepathically communicating to me in the great seal together. (mymp3 had a comic wip with this. give it a looksie :D)

ryoji likes cuddling with minato because he's warm :) (something something orpheus has fire affinity, minato is warm by extension and ryoji is cold because he's death)

ryoji's camera roll is filled with pictures of minato! ryoji... loves life, to me. and i feel that photography and journaling are perfect ways of expressing gratitude and capturing the moments in life that are most important to you :3

my other favorite activity for these two is stargazing- i feel like it's something they could appreciate either in life or death (looking at the stars from the great seal...)! they do a bit of this in the fic eurydice's vow by crescentmoontea (P5R spoilers, takes place in third sem it's a very fun fic concept).

between ryoji and minato i feel like ryoji was the one who fell in love first- and it doesn't really click in place for minato that he loves ryoji until december hits (appriser reveal + ryoji transforming into thanatos). its about the realization that ryoji was with him for his whole life and that he gets him like no one else does.

ryoji is like a sad and wet puppy who is so scared minato won't like him back. he is so scared of being rejected by minato to me like. this boy straight up deflates after he does his "i know i said i wanted us to be friends, but... i actually want to be something more." / "what about you?" on 12/1 ???

AND SPEAKING of wet puppy ryoji. ryoji is like. every animal in the world to me. he's a bird. he's a cat. etc. and also ryoji knows every language in the world ever and uses it to express his love for minato. see this fic from superheroics to see what i mean.

both of them are lactose intolerant. "this isn't lactose, it's milk!" i definitely think ryoji would make himself sick eating ice cream and milk he doesn't know what lactose is. (i made a silly poll about this once and the tags were very entertaining.)

i see minato as transmasc or nonbinary depending on the day (schrodinger's headcanons babey they're simultaneously true and not true at the same time!!). either way he's not cis to me and ryoji is like. His Gender. anyway go read this fic by nail_gun for t4t ryomina :D !

ryomina are WEIRD GUYS TO ME!!! they are so strange and they understand each other better than anyone else because of the circumstances of their relationship!!! if you asked them to do the "i wonder what i taste like" meme i think they'd start biting each other (affectionate) tbh but that's just me.

after ryoji gives minato the music box in 12/31 on reload, minato listens to the music box every night in january. this boy has insomnia and also chronic illness to me (things that housing death does to you). but i think he finds comfort in the melody and memories he made with ryoji.

in general, i think it's fun to imagine minato taking ryoji to places and show him things he's interested in! i feel that ryoji takes a lot of interest in minato's life, this isn't really a hc because in reload, minato DOES give ryoji a tour of the school (11/9) and possibly port island (11/12). but ITS CUTE OK! (tangentially related fanwork: this series of doodles from vinnigami: 1, 2, and 3)

not a hc but minato's kindness is like the backbone of their relationship and i think we would not have the ryomina we know and love today if minato wasn't such a kind soul. oh minato.... we can learn so much from you... like ryoji did!

anyway! that's all the hcs that i could think of, thank you for the ask! i had a lot of fun answering this, these two mean a lot to me 💛💙

i hope you don't mind the links to the fanart and fanfic as well, the fanwork people have made for ryomina have really made an imprint on me! if you want to see more of them, i definitely recommend looking through my tag for them because oh. i got a lot of them reblogged alright 😂 (<- SOOO NORMAL)

#UMMM hiiii #this was VERY fun to do thank you so much for the ask!! im very. well-adjusted about these two #this ended up turning into some art + fic suggests (they are like citations to my hcs)#but it was really fun! i love ryomina to bits and pieces i cannot provide a concise answer #this post nearly gave me a scare bc somehow the bullet point list doubled itself and wouldn't let me post #tumblr is a very functional website! but the posts intact so im happy!!! yippee!#i still need to finish reload but some of the hcs i wrote were partially backed by what i saw there #people are welcome to send asks btw! cant guarantee i'll answer them in a timely manner but i enjoy doing them #doing this reminded me of my early tumblr days when i'd get so many asks where ppl dropped their ryomina hcs it was cute...#im sure i will continue to recommend fanworks in the future i definitely want to start reading fic again after i finish reload! yahoo!#also this post is like the iceberg of my brain btw you have definitely not seen all of my thoughts im soo. (twirls hair) normal.#lizzy askbox #ryomina #<- why not i put effort into the post #anyway bye im going to go to the library to learn about my favorite new interest called html and css aren't websites cool :)

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soobadnoonecanstopher · 9 months

Text

Can I Stay? (A Baekhyun Story) Part 8.

Pairing: You x Baekhyun

Rating: M (SMUT - Mature Content) (Don't read this at work or in public or at church or in class)

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: Here today for your consideration is some graphic smut. Idk anymore. Agonizing smut. Edging. Power Play. PWP. We don't need to live like this, but this is how this chapter happened, someone told me to make it long so here we fuckin are guys. Anyway don't forget to drink water and clench as you read this.

A romance between two adults with an unspecified age difference between them, an English story that uses the word Noona for lack of another word in English that carries the same feeling, if you don’t like this, then don’t read this story.

Author‘s note: remember all those years ago I said I’d write a Baekhyun x Noona fic? This is that fic.

Inspired by the Ray LaMontagne songs Can I Stay

Thank you @his-mochi-cheeks for making the story poster featuring Baekhyun’s outfit in this chapter. Additional Tag for @andimoon

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

‘When can I see you again?’

‘I need to see you again”

With a slow and deliberate agonizing pull of his dark eyes, he ran them up the entire length of your body before setting them down devastatingly deep inside of your eyes and there was no longer any breath left in your body that could fight the dizziness you felt under his gaze.

Inside of his eyes a flame was ablaze and you, and you, and every single bit of you, was burning.

Baekhyun was at your doorway with a hand in his pocket; looking absolutely nothing like your prim and proper Personal Assistant usually did. Gone was the professional suit and tie and here he stood in front of you looking more casual than you had ever seen him. This was day-off Byun Baekhyun. He leaned against the doorframe with colorful sneakers on his feet and on his lower half wearing a pair of well fitted jeans with what had to be very trendy holes ripped right through the knees. The holes were large and dramatic. You could make out the soft flesh of his inner knee and on the right leg, you even saw some of his soft upper thigh. What were these jeans?

Your eyes seemed to act on their own accord as you took him in, pausing your journey just about thigh level to let out an appreciative exhale because of simply how good this man’s thighs looked in these jeans. On his broad chest he wore a soft and well-worn red hoodie. He looked younger like this. His face was already very youthful for his age but dressed like this? He could pass for a college student in this sweater and in these jeans.

You tried. You really tried not to let your eyes linger for too long over the middle zipper section of him. But the man was wearing a belt — the accent in the middle kind of caught your eyes and despite all of your mental gymnastics to get your eyes to move up into his face right now, you knew that the belt was black. You knew that he had the buckle fastened through the third hole in the leather and you knew that the buckle was silver and had a brushed metal texture to it. You had lingered here for too long. My god, you could identify it in a police lineup if you had to. The belt as well as the bulge of fabric; the well filled out denim below the belt. The parts of him that occupied far more of your mind than you’d ever admit outloud to anyone. You had intimate knowledge of the power he held over you. You’d slept with him exactly twice; both times in the well concealed darkness of your bedroom and still, still knew the man and every single but of him was gorgeous.

You were positive that you were ogling him for too long but if he had any thoughts about the way you took him in he certainly wasn’t speaking on it.

When you finally made it through, when the breath that seemed to be stuck halfway through your windpipe finally made its way out and your eyes finally touched on the edges of his face enough for you to catch the tip of his tongue that moistened his bottom lip a half second before his teeth bit down on that wet lip. It was such a brief action but your mind flashed a memory of those teeth biting down hard on to the soft skin of your neck. Those teeth that brought just a bit of pain and that mouth that sucked hard enough to bruise your flesh.

This mark remained on you at this very moment and it took every bit of strength left inside of you not to lift a hand and touch the spot with your fingertips.

You shouldn’t do such a thing. You were being watched.

His eyes watched you. You’d made it this far. You’d reached his eyes and when you pulled your own into his there was a shift in his pupils to finally have your focus, to finally be looking into his face instead of feasting all over his crotch like you had been doing.

Were you caught?

He had a smile on his face and you could see a narrowing of his eyelids, a microscopic tick of a single eyebrow over one of his eyes and his smile pulled just a tiny bit wider.

You probably should do something.

“Hi,” you managed weakly and his smile pulled brighter, showing his teeth for a moment.

“Hi,” his lips parted with his whispered response. His head tilted toward the door frame he was leaning on. That one word; just a repetition of your own inadequate greeting but somehow in his voice and said so softly it seemed to jostle every bit of the fondness you had for him and it sent a burst of sweet bubbles to your surface. The sweet feelings and tiny gestures and the delicate kisses and the sleepy whispers, they all floated up and one by one each made a tiny pop, pop, pop, breaking whatever excuse for surface tension you had tricked yourself into believing you could still hold on to.

What did normal people do when they had a visitor?

You stepped aside; your legs teetering just a little unsteadily, holding the door open for him to enter and also for your own balance and at last his weight shifted off of the doorframe and he took a quiet step inside.

You could breathe at last. He was finally aiming his eyes at something other than you as he looked down at his feet to push his shoes off.

You could feel the newness of this making your nerves misbehave.

Your brand new out-of-the-box boyfriend had suddenly stopped by your house and it was getting dark outside. As far as you knew he was supposed to have been busy all day. The boys’ music class and then dinner with his parents and then… he would have been tired after his day. He would maybe want to go home and rest.

Your mind reached back to his text message. You’d been longing for his company again back when you read it but now your nerves had a hold of you and his messages’ crystal clear meaning from before his arrival was beginning to cloud over just a bit. What if you had been wrong?

What if he actually had some other reason why he had to see you.

What if something had changed or what if something happened with the dinner with his parents? What if that dinner had turned into a business discussion about his future in the company and how he couldn’t waste away his precious days working as your assistant. What if this was a farewell visit; or worse a break up visit?

Were you jumping to conclusions about the reason for his sudden visit and assuming he wanted what you also wanted? What you knew for a fact right now is that you were definitely overthinking this.

The uncertainty had you crossing your arms over your chest and looking down the length of your bare legs. You pointed a freshly painted toe nail forward and absentmindedly tapped against the kitchen island beside the entryway of your home.

“So what did you need to see me about?” The question sounded innocent enough in your head but when it came out of your own mouth you could hear the confrontational tone. It made you wince. You hadn’t meant to sound this way. Out of habit, to recover just a little bit of your own pride, you straightened your shoulders and lifted your chin. It was an act of self preservation. You were a mess of a mix between a hopeful girlfriend and a nagging team manager and something told you the later one was not what you were supposed to be acting like right now.

Your stupid question was out though and there was no putting it back in. You held your breath and you braced for the answer.

Baekhyun had been making his way into your kitchen and his forward progress stalled when he heard your question. Did he feel your nerves through your words or had your business-like tone taken front and center stage?

He didn’t answer quickly and instead took a few more steps past where you stood your ground and you saw the tiny head shake as he looked back at you with his lips parted.

“Oh, uhh...” his voice began to speak but he stopped again, “I uhhh…” The man didn’t usually struggle with his words. Had you somehow infected him with your nerves? Was it the crossed arms and the manager’s tone of voice? You felt a flash of guilt for it.

Baekhyun exhaled and his eyes closed up.

“I sat outside for thirty minutes and I couldn’t come up with an excuse for being here.” His lips pulled into a wince and he peaked one eye open to look at you.

“I should be at home right now, but my car seemed to drive me here.” Your own smile betrayed you and when he saw it his other eye pulled open. He was adorable. His quiet confession made your heart leap.

“Nothing? No ‘My cell service is out and I had to deliver this important message’ or ‘We have this important client meeting tomorrow and you need to be aware of this detail that only I know.’ You couldn't come up with one little thing?” You simply could not help the teasing now. This was just too much fun. He was adorable.

You hadn’t read his messages wrong. All at once you felt the nerves burst and vanish and he smiled wider as he shook his head.

“I am definitely not here for work, Noona.” He stood just out of reach in that bright red hoodie wearing those jeans and he slipped a hand into his front pocket again, fidgeting with his keys or his phone or whatever it was he did when he was just a little bit anxious.

“So what are you here for then, Baekhyun?” You’d long since dropped your arms and they hung at your side.

His easy smile flattened out, vanishing from his face and he looked into your eyes, watching the shift in your face and recognizing the change in your tone easily.

Something different was brewing inside of your chest that had replaced the silly anxiousness you felt earlier. It had you taking the smallest step closer to him when you asked your brazen question.

This new feeling, a mirror of that which fueled your fingers to text him to tell him to come over, it had you lifting your eyes up from his lips where you’d just watched the nervous way his tongue darted out, your eyebrow bounced over your eye to see it, and when you’d pulled your eyes back up you did it slowly enough that there was zero doubt between the two of you that he had seen it.

This man, this beautiful, glorious, amazingly competent-in-all-ways man, was watching your face with his lips parted and with his words caught up inside his mouth. This man looked nervous right now, inside your home with you looking into his eyes waiting very patiently for his explanations for why he had to see you so urgently tonight.

So far he had none that he dared speak out loud.

You knew this might not be completely fair but it sure was fun watching the man who always had something to say about everything ever, finally at a loss for words.

What would it take to pull those words out of him.

You reached for the top button of the shirt you wore. It was a loose and flowy top and you knew it would only take one button for the shoulder to fall off. You knew the bruise he’d made with his mouth would be visible. You knew the lacy bra you wore would also not be very well concealed and just one more button would bring the view of the soft mounds of your breasts before him. You were on a roll with one button and you were unstoppable with the second button.

Of course his eyes touched below your neck, of course he saw the mark and of course his eyes looked down to the glimpse of your exposed bra. With his eyes having a look he bit down in his lip and you heard the rough exhale through his nose.

And he was in motion. His hand lifted to rub through his hair and another hand lifted to rub over his face and he physically reeled standing right here just out of your reach and with about as much pent up energy inside of his body as you felt inside of your own.

“You,” he lifted a lazy hand in your general direction, waving his slim fingers at you, “I — did not only come here for that. I also wanted to make sure you were okay after yesterday, I swear.”

He spilled the words out quickly and pulled his lips in between his teeth as he lifted an oh so innocent hand to lay over his chest as he did his very best to convince you of his noble intentions for coming here tonight. It made you grin. You couldn’t stop it.

The smile on your face was knowing. While you appreciated his concern you were very clearly just fine. And that wasn’t the part you wanted to get to the bottom of. You raised an eyebrow and dropped your voice an octave and you slowly asked your next question.

“You didn’t only come here for what, Baekhyun?”

You whispered in response, needing him to use the words himself out loud before you exploded right here in the space between your entryway and your kitchen. You wanted him to speak openly and honestly with you. You needed to know if he wanted to use you tonight as badly as you wanted to use him tonight.

His eyes were steady on you and you looked at him, mustering all of your experience from your most intense professional negotiations. You steeled your mouth shut and lifted your eyebrows in his direction with a tiny raise of your chin.

He watched your face. His breathing seemed to grow heavier and he seemed to war with himself inside his own head for a few breaths if it.

After a moment his head ticked upward and the look in his eyes grew darker.

“Okay,” he said and his lips hung open after the word came out. A decision it seemed had been reached.

“Okay, fine.” He took a step, it was a big one and you miraculously stood your ground as he moved in.

You did have to close your eyes for a second as he closed in on you. You’d asked for this. And when you felt the warmth of his breath against your face he was so close to you now that even with your eyes open, the pretty features of his face were a blur.

More than his hot breath on you, his hands had come too, those slim fingers ran a path along your neck, slipping his slow moving fingertips over the bruise. You knew his eyes would be feasting on the sight of where he had marked you as his own.

“You want to know why I came?” His hand moved now and you gasped to feel that hand slip around your chin and grip your face tightly. He pulled, making your face turn away from his so that his lips touched up against your ear. He held your face with a surprising strength and your breaths raged in and out, unable to conceal how affected you felt for him to be touching you this roughly.

You felt his soft lips at your ear a moment before you heard the lowly growled words that came from deep within his chest.

”l came because I want to fuck you.” You closed your eyes and your mouth was open as short breaths pushed out of your lungs. You had asked for this but had nowhere prepared for the impact of it. Oh this felt better than you had expected.

“Is this what you want to hear, My Love” You felt overwhelmed by his words, by his hands, by the way he pressed his firm body up against you and the way the edge of the hard countertop dug into your back. The pain of it made you feel somehow still connected to your body right now despite the otherworldly arousal that coursed through you.

“I came because you feel so hot and so wet and so good around my dick that all I can think about is fucking you over and over again.”

His hand moved your chin to face him again and he pulled his face back just enough for you to be able to make out the dark brown of his eyes. His pupils were so dark and all consuming they looked like black holes ready to devour you completely.

“You have no idea how desperate I am for you. If you asked me to get on my knees and beg, I would drop — I would drop to my knees, again, for you.”

“But what you have no fucking idea about, is how It goes so much deeper than that.” Your mind was too jumbled to make sense of what he meant. You did not have any space to translate — deeper than what?

His thumb moved then and you felt pressure as he pressed over it your bottom lip, his wild eyes watching the way your mouth opened slightly as he did it.

Every bit of resistance you may have had in you was gone. You easily molded under his hands, feeling the effects of him in more than just your mouth, the heat spread all over your body, dropping into your stomach, pooling in between your legs.

“More,” he said darkly as if this one word had punctuated the shift into a very different Baekhyun and you let your lips fall open more. His thumb pushed in, hooked around your bottom teeth and pulled you forward into his open mouth. You felt the hot wetness of his tongue when he pushed it inside of your mouth. This darkness in his voice sounded familiar; like the same Baekhyun that bit you. This must be him, when he’d lost the carefully curated control, this was him.

You felt inundated. Blindsided by the way your body reacted to it. You sucked on his tongue that he’d pushed into your mouth and you heard a low throaty groan from him as he slowly pulled it back out, leaving you shaking and trembling to watch his face twist into pleasure. His eyes had rolled closed and with him pressed up against your body this way you could feel the rigid heat between his legs pressed up against you.

His hands were trembling and he took them off of your face. He was retreating. It took you a few seconds to realize this and you missed his hands touching you when he’d pulled them away. He stumbled back, landing on one of your kitchen stools.

You watched him breathe through it all the while desperately trying to catch your own breath. When he spoke next he sounded worked up and agitated.

“I am fucking wrecked by you. I feel insane. I feel completely destroyed,” When his eyes pulled open he was back; whispering softly through parted lips and trembling hands that he fisted at his waist.

“But, I also know how lopsided this is. I know that I’m the one who fell too hard — too fast. I think you know it too — teasing me like that. Making me lose control, making me want to lose control —”

You’d done something awful. You’d introduced some doubt inside of his mind and you felt the need to undo all of that this very instant. Was that really why? Did he really have so much confusion about your intentions?

“You must know that I would do anything. I know I should hold back — I need to hold back with you, but…”

You took a step into him, leaned forward and pulled his bottom lip in between your lips and you kissed him, interrupting his false beliefs about how much you felt for him with a kiss.

He responded to your kiss right away with a need and incredible want. That he didn’t know the signs — that he didn’t recognize just how strong of a hold he had on you was a failure on your part — this couldn’t be the only reason. You wondered if it was something you’d missed.

His lips kissed you with such an intensity that you had to place both of your hands on his cheeks to pull him back, just so you could breathe, just so you could speak to the truth of how you felt about him; how you had been feeling about him all day. You had things to say to him.

”I worship you —” Your labored exhale painted over his wet lips, “Baekhyun.” Your chest constricted when you heard your own voice utter those scary words. You’d never before told someone something like this and still deep inside your chest you knew how true it was.

With your small declaration you saw his eyes roll and he bit down on his bottom lip. He inhaled through his nose, his teeth bit down hard on that lip. A small whimper came from the back of his throat.

But you weren’t done. You had so much to tell him and you mustered up the courage to speak.

“You occupy my mind and my heart so completely. I even considered going to bed early tonight just so I could hurry up and see you tomorrow morning.

“If I’ve given you any impression that I don’t want you, that I didn’t want you here; I am sorry. And I’m sorry about the way I greeted you earlier. I was — just nervous. I don’t want you to hold back with me.”

His face ticked back and forth, you felt it happen within your hands.

“I’ve never seen you nervous.” Baekhyun said matter of factly with his pink lips hung open after he spoke.

“I am very good at hiding it.” You let go of his face, trusting that he might stay put and you waved both of your hands over your own chest. “It happens all on the inside. My stomach is a wreck.”

“But you, texting me like that, and standing there at my door looking like this…” you waved a hand over the length of him and his eyes followed your waving fingers to look down at himself with a slowly growing smile that he tried to conceal on his face. His fingertips reached out and he touched your shirt, rubbing the fabric between his thumb and index finger.

“You make me very nervous. I thought for sure I was the one who liked you more.” Your confessions had been tumbling out of you quite freely now. It seemed you’d cleared the clog. “I think we have a lot to learn about each other.”

He watched your face as you spoke. You said all you could think of to say and the small tugs he made on your shirt were distracting, they made you lose whatever else you might have had to say. You reached a hand forward to tug at one of the red strings that hung out of his hood.

His fingers released the bit of your shirt he was holding. He’d been absent minded with it but when he reached out again he lightly gripped the next closed button on your top. There were only two left that held this thing together. His focus was light on that button he held between his index finger and his thumb and you felt a small tug as a third finger came into play, pushing the button through the hole; exposing more of your skin.

He was making you dizzy again. You felt his light touch along your stomach just below the front clasp of your bra and your own small gasps were the only sound in this quiet space when he lightly traced the lace edge of your bra, his fingertip running up the soft flesh of your breast. He followed up the strap and you felt him rub the pad of his fingertip on your shoulder, over the bruise there.

Baekhyun leaned. You felt the movement in him moments before you felt his hair tickling lightly over your skin. You felt the puff of breath from his mouth moments before you felt his soft lips on you and when his lips landed over that same exact spot you had to place your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself from falling over. You braced for it, you could feel it coming when you felt the parting of his lips, the wetness of his tongue and the hardness of his teeth and he bit you again, harder this time in the exact same spot as before. It took your breath away and you had to open your mouth; a small hiss and a quiet moan.

“Do I really make you nervous?” He asked in a low whisper into the space beside your neck. You felt goosebumps all over your skin. His hands were moving and you felt a tiny click. He had figured out the front clasp of your bra. You felt his mouth on you again, this time his lips and his tongue all over. You might have nodded your head. You weren't very much in control of your body anymore.

But his hands, those hands, they were moving again. His slim fingertips had slipped into the space between your goosebumped skin and the waistband of your shorts and he pushed with his hands, leaving only your lace underwear behind. He was undressing you. In the kitchen with all of your lights on and your hands rubbed over the soft red hoodie he still wore, lamenting over the lack of warm skin you felt. He was still completely clothed when gravity took your shorts.

“Do you really want me to not hold back?” His next question was spoken into your open mouth. You gasped, inhaling the sweet smelling air from inside his lungs when his hands reached around and gripped your ass and you were being lifted, with his mouth still connected to your own and his eyes wide open as he looked into your face between the kisses.

He had so many clothes on. You felt the roughness of the denim through the thin lace panties that you still wore and against the bare skin of your thighs that wrapped around his thin waist. You felt your own wetness that soaked the fabric press against you as you were lifted and you were carried; he was moving now.

You were in a different room. You inhaled a shocked breath when you were tossed, your back meeting a soft bed and you were entirely too naked for how many clothes he wore as he climbed over you on the bed, his bare knee and its warm skin a stark contrast to the scratchy jeans, you felt him push that knee roughly against your legs, making you open tor him.

“Baek — clothes,” you managed only a few nouns. He understood and you heard a quiet chuckle from the back of his throat, only it didn’t quite sound like humor. It sounded like something else. A little boy playing roughly and carelessly with a toy, perhaps.

He caged you in with his arms pinning you down on either side and his bare knee pressed up high between your parted legs. You were certain he could feel your wetness on his knee.

“I’ll keep them on for now, because you like them.” His balance shifted then and he moved, propping up on one elbow so he could trace down the curve of your body with his fingertips. He was moving very slowly and you squirmed below the uncomfortable tickle you felt when he reached your hip bones. He was moving lower and his knee was gone, replaced by his wandering hand.

“God, you are wet. I can feel you worshiping me, right here,” his fingertips pressed over your panties and the purposeful drag of his fingers over your swollen center had you gasping. He did it again and again and you responded desperately with every touch and when he pushed the fabric aside and slipped two slim fingers inside of your wetness you could feel yourself losing this game he was playing.

Just with the build up before you got into this room, you were already in bad shape, but now with his fingers touching; you felt yourself too close. He was guiding you there. You knew he could tell too. His movements were deliberate and he was watching your face closely as he did it. You could feel on the edge of it, you were so close to it, your breathing was ragged and desperate and he watched with a quiet and calm expression on his face as he brought you there. You squirmed below him, you touched just along the edge of it with a whimper when all at once he pulled his hand away abruptly, slipping well outside of your wetness and far away from the release you had been so close to. That hand, that hand was gone, his fingers and the feeling all of it was gone. The denial felt like a splash of cold water against your hot skin.

“Do want me to fuck you, Miss Manager?” He spoke out your work title in a hushed whisper and the surprise of hearing that title — right here with you in the state you were in, it pulled your eyes open to look into his face. When he caught your attention you saw a slight narrowing of his dark eyes. It was a challenge. You wondered right then about the fantasies this man must have had at work. You wondered how you would be able to move forward tomorrow knowing what you now knew from his one question he had just asked you.

“You know you just have to ask me nicely,” he said with a shrug of his face. He lifted his hand, still wet from you, up to his lips and you watched his lips part and the tip of his tongue emerged to lick up the wetness before he stuck both of his fingers inside of his mouth, pulling them out of his mouth slowly as he looked into your eyes.

This was too much. You hadn’t been prepared for this kind of behavior from him and the most shocking thing was just how much you were turned on by every single thing he did to you.

Yes, you did want him to fuck you. You were feeling entirely too desperate for it and he was completely and utterly in control of every single thought you had coursing through your brain.

“B-Baek—take off your clothes—”

“Uh-uh,” he interrupted firmly when you had started to speak. “I don’t think that’s the proper way to ask your assistant for a favor. Really, you are more professional than that. At least say please.” This was definitely a game he was playing now.

You felt all of it, all at once. The sting of being so close to a finish and being denied it. The sting of him denying you even for a few seconds what you had so clearly wanted from him. You felt the arousal still overtaking every single one of your senses and still so very affected by his goddamned audacity to be so clearly having so much fun with you right now.

It made you feel insane. All of it was too much.

You weren't speaking right away for sheer loss of words. You felt like you’d lost them along with your sanity and all you could do was reach your hand out and tug lightly at his red sweater. You were greeted with a small slap at the back of your hand for that and he was inhaling to speak again with about as much mischief in his eyes as you had ever seen.

“Répète après moi,” he began in French for no reason you could make any sense of, not that you could make any sense of anything that was happening to you right now.

He spoke clearly and slowly as if you were a naughty student in need of reprimanding — with a finger pointed at his mouth, touching on his bottom lip. This was the finger that had just been inside of you.

“Assistant Byun…will you please” he said with a pointed pause and he watched you and he waited.

It was your turn to repeat after him.

“Assistant Byun, will you please take off your clothes and fuck me?” It was always best to rip the bandaid off, you said it in a single breath. The seconds after the words came out of your lips though, you felt their massive impact.

Every single day, and all day long at work, you started dozens of sentences to him exactly like this. This was the most dangerous game you could have played with him.

His eyes were watching you darkly as you said it and you caught the slow roll of his eyes into the back of his head as he threw his face back and away from you, feeling the very real impact of that sentence you had just said to him.

No doubt, committing it to memory so that every single time you started with those words at work, this very moment would return to his mind — and to yours as well.

He didn't respond right away with words but he was moving before you heard him whisper the quiet, “Yes ma’am,” that he always used as a response at the office.

He quickly pulled the red sweater up over his head and tossed it onto the floor behind him. He’d grabbed the white shirt along with the sweater, removing everything at once. You saw the clear firmness of his skin at last. You could smell the clean, expensive fragrance that he wore. You felt the bed move and you heard the telltale sounds of a belt buckle, a zipper, the swish of jeans and he was back to you all heat and skin and the overwhelmingly amazing way he smelled and he was back; he was back.

You felt ready to snap. You felt wound so tight; the anticipation alone might have done you in, but he was back. You’d abandoned the panties. They were soaked anyway.

He was above you; coating you entirely. The heavy weight of his body covered you, you felt restricted in your breathing and he was here. He was yours; you had him at last. He was in between your legs, he was on top of you and his arms wrapped below your shoulders as he pulled your body into his own, a tangle here without any distance at all between the skin of your bodies and between your faces. You felt him there too, right between your legs, so perfectly lined up. You’d wrapped your tense legs around his waist to pull him in closer to you.

He was looking into your eyes and when he pushed inside it was all at once; in one fluid motion. Your mouth opened to gasp and his mouth opened over your mouth, pushing his tongue between your lips and biting down with his teeth with a matching rhythm; the same motion that his hips moved inside of you, until the gasping from his own lungs grew to be too much for him to take.

You touched him everywhere, needing to feel that smooth skin from his abdomen to his chest to his neck to his face and as you passed your fingers over his lips you gasped when turned his head, catching a finger between his teeth and biting down hard. You wondered how many marks he had made on you now.

You were dizzy. You were overcome. He was sitting up and watching the space where your bodies connected; where he disappeared inside of you again and again and you were lost.

You were lost. His pace was affected by the feeling of your tremors, by the tightening of all of your muscles and you were lost. You heard the growling curses that flew from his lips and the whining sounds that came from his mouth.

His actions were a blur. You were too consumed by this man. You know that you came undone before he did, you felt his strong grip as his hand dug hard into your inner thigh and you felt the slight pain as he pushed inside of you roughly. It brought a sound to your lips and you cried out again when his thumb between your bodies colliding did-you-in again and he was shaking. He was trembling on top of you with a noisy grunt in your ear and a shuttering that you could feel inside of you he was shaking.

The comedown was lengthy. A thousand thoughts came rushing into your mind the second it cleared enough to allow for any little bit of rational thinking. This man…this man was surprising in every single way he could be. He was a marathon and a marvel. He was a hurricane and a deluge and you felt almost too spent to even move, but you knew you must. You reached for something on the bed, finding the panties and deeming them good enough for this mess and his breathing had finally settled enough for a small moan to come from his chest.

Despite the relief you felt, despite the sex being what you needed from him you still longed to touch him. You were sore and you were spent and still you reached for his warmth as if you would never be free of this desire for him. You found him easily. He wrapped himself around you and you only half paid attention to any of those thoughts racing through your mind. Concerns and worries for how you might resist him at work, now that you had these ideas presented in such a tempting way. Worries for what the future with him might actually hold. Worries about how deeply you had fallen for him and how desperately you felt this desire to be with him all of the time.

“Where did you park?” You finally spoke after a long spell of silent breathing.

“Secure lot,” he said over your head and he tightened the grip of his arms around your shoulders and laid a heavy leg over your hip.

You saw him arrive at your home empty handed and he definitely didn’t bring a suit for work tomorrow hidden in his pockets, but the hold he had on you was tight and it was warm and his breathing was beginning to even out as the sounds of nighttime insects began to chirp outside of your closed window and you decided that all of those pesky little details and worries and concerns could wait definitely until tomorrow.

[To be Continued]

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

#exo #exo fanfiction #exo smut #baekhyun #exo fic #exo scenario #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun series #byun baekhyun #baekhyun fic

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pastorpresent · 2 years

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elvis presley with lolita reader. reader is always barefoot in her little flower garden at Graceland, reading her little books and in those cute little dresses,,, can u please elaborate on this <3(reader is OBVIOUSLY of age)

Privacy.

Thank you for the ask my lovely! I hope this is what you pictured at least a little.

{ an escape, a sanctuary, call it whatever. It doesn't matter. All that matters is it belongs solely to the two of you. }

Elvis x y/n, or Austin!elvis x y/n if preferred.

The flower garden was intially created for privacy.

Graceland had long been a famous landmark of sorts for an ocean of fans and sea of paparazzi long before your arrival. Regardless of whether Elvis was there or not, the crowds outside never waned - waiting for hours to see glimpses of anything at all through the tall metal gates.

You had of course accepted this loss of privacy when you accepted his request to be your partner.

It would've been far too naive of you to not consider the fact as part of your acceptance, and so you resigned to spend most of your time at Graceland inside.

Still, you missed the feeling of grass beneath your feet. You missed spending time amongst soft greens and the warm glow of the sun, but it was the sacrifice you had willingly made.

Elvis had a way of sensing when you were unhappy. It was actually quite impressive, really. The reality was you spent far too much time apart with his performing and recording, and so it only served to surprise you when he would return and immediately read you like an open book with all the skill of a pair that hadn't spent a second away from each other since courting.

It was during one of those moments when the initial purpose of the garden was formed.

"You need to tell me what's wrong, sweetness, or I can't help you," he said, and you force your small smile, cuddling into his side and settling against the cushions. You hardly want to ruin your precious time together causing him worry.

He didn't let the topic drop though, and when you finally relented and admitted to missing the privacy you used to have outside, he looks thoughtful. He's uncharacteristically quiet for the rest of the evening, and you worry initially that your admittance had upset him.

You wake the next morning to gardeners digging up large patches of grass around the back of the house, and Elvis watching them from the window with a smug grin.

"What's going on?"

You tumble out the covers and join him at the window, eyebrows creasing as you watch the crowd of workers below drink from mugs of coffee and operate machinery.

"Privacy, baby," Elvis announces, gesturing to the current mounds of soil in the garden, and you arch your brow.

"Privacy?"

Elvis looks almost conspiratorial as he winks, tugging you closer by an arm around your waist. He presses a kiss to your head, and nods.

"You'll see soon enough, don't let anyone say I let my girl want for nothin'."

And soon enough, you did see. Elvis admitted upon the gardens completion that he hadn't designed it exactly, because he was no good at that, but he had pitched his vision with the tag line of private, and that it was. The garden was surrounded in dense shrubs and trees, making it all but invisible to prying eyes.

The first time you ventured out, you had a book tucked under your arm in preparation. You kicked your shoes off onto the concrete, and Elvis sent you a funny look which made you laugh.

"Trust me, it feels amazing," you promise, and he leaves his shoes at the door even if he does appear skeptical.

"You're raving mad, woman," he says, but you grab his hand and pull him towards the garden anyway.

It truly was a work of art. The flowers bloomed so bright and colourful. The grass smelt wonderfully fresh, and it felt even better beneath your toes. You spend time admiring everything, until ultimately you feel yourself get tugged down by Elvis, thumping against his chest as he slides down a large tree. A brief playful fight breaks out between you both, as you try to squirm free and he keeps a tight hold of your torso, pressing kisses over your cheek.

Eventually, you relent with a smile, announcing your surrender as you sink into him and flatten your dress.

"Do you like it?" Elvis asks, and you can hear the note of nervousness in his voice, a niggling doubt in the back of his mind.

You arch your neck enough to capture his lips against your own.

"I love it. It's perfect. Thank you so much, baby," you hum, and the traces of tension vanish from his body as he plants a small peck to the corner of your mouth.

"Anything for you, mama."

-x-

"I thought I'd find you out here."

You look up from your book, back against the tree, and you can feel the soft smile sliding over your features when you see him approaching.

Something isn't quite right, though. He was supposed to be on the road to LA right about now. You had waved him off yourself, shielding your tears from the boys and the fans as you watched his bus dissapear over the horizon.

That had been a good few hours ago, and yet here he was, still dressed in the clothes he left in with a defeated grimace on his face.

Wordlessly, you shuffle over and pat the ground next to you.

You spent most of your time in the garden over the last few months. It truly was an escape of sorts, and despite his insistence that he could hire someone for the upkeep you loved walking around with your watering can tending the beautiful flowers. You would often sit out here into the late hours, a cup of tea and a book at your side, listening to the hum of activity inside as whatever group Elvis had invited that night chatted and played music alongside him.

The garden had become a refuge for him too, in a lot of ways. You would share picnics together as the sun set over the soft grass. Sometimes he would bring his guitar and strum chords, singing softly. Sometimes you would both race and crouch around the maze of shrubbery, playing hide and seek like children. Other times you would both just lie there, intertwined and lost in the others touch.

Once the house had quietened, he would inevitably make his way outside with a cup of his own, and settle down beside you. You would lay your book aside with a flower pressed within to mark your page, and you would both talk for hours about everything and nothing.

"Got into a fight with the Colonel. He- he swore I wouldn't be singin' in this one. That's why I signed the goddamn contract - thought it would be one of those proper films that people would take seriously," he takes the offered space next to you, all but throwing himself at the ground.

Immediately you open up your arms, letting him get close enough to hide away in the crook of your neck. His arms wrapped secure around your waist, and you hugged him as tight as you could manage, kissing the top of his head.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I truly am," your heart aches as you feel the dampness on your neck, and you wish you could wipe away his sadness with the tears.

"I read the damn script and made 'em turn the bus right 'round. Colonel is gonna be furious. So will daddy."

"Screw 'em," you say reverently, and you mean it.

"Screw all of 'em. If you're not happy, it's not up to them to force you."

He pulls back a little, although he's still holding onto you like you're the oxygen he needs to breathe.

"I ever told you how much I love ya?"

You smile, shrugging.

"A few times, but I'm always up for hearing it again."

His face breaks into that child like little grin you only ever see when you're both alone, and it's infectious.

He kisses you deep, hands combing gently through your hair. The kiss leaves you a little breathless, and he seems to count that as a triumph.

"I do love the privacy of this place," he hums, and goes in for another you're more than happy to give.

-x-

Years will pass, and eventually a little girl with his bright curious eyes and his mischievous smile along with your own adoration for the blooming flowers reads under the tree sandwiched between you both.

Years later, you place a small memorial just beneath the same tree. The rest of Graceland is opened to the public, but you fence off the little garden. You hum the tune to a few chords once played on a guitar, and weep.

#elvis 2022 #elvis #elvis presley #elvisaaronpresley #elvis x y/n #elvis x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x you #elvis presley x reader #elvis movie #austin butler x you #austin butler #austin!elvis #austin!elvis x reader #austin!elvis x y/n #elvis drabble #asks #mywriting

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