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itsonlydana · 1 month

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Heyy I just wanted to ask if you could write something for Thranduil x gn!reader just something really light and fluffy maybe like how he takes care of reader what they do in a day and just spending time together doing romantic things and reader really just enjoying life without a care in the world... (Deine Fanfictions sind soooo super ❤️Ich stecke grade sowas von in der Prüfungsphase es ist echt Gold wert wenn man deine Stories zu Lesen hat🤌🏻 )

Spoil Me, Pamper Me, Love Me | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x gn!reader 👑

a cozy day spent with Thranduil

warnings/tags: none, fluff!

words: 1,4k

an: such a lovely request; had such a fun time writing it :) take the elvish terms of endearment with a grain of salt.. i literally googled them lmao but i made sure to use gender neutral names. [Ich wünsche dir viel Erfolg bei deinen Prüfungen, anon! Ich hatte meine im Februar und hoffe du kommst da gut durch <3]

+ masterlist + rules +

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

Being Thranduil's beloved comes with positives as well as negatives – he is a king, a leader after all, and most of his waking hours are dedicated to keeping up his political alliances.

This spanned from week-long travels to other kingdoms to meetings that could last long enough for most of the day to pass without seeing each other much.

Many of these affairs do not require personal attendance though and only expect Thranduil to correspond through letters; a convenience you both treasured admits all the dragging conferences at round tables that were more draining the less importance of the topic to be discussed – even a royal elitist like Thranduil, who took great pleasure in all things rich and extraordinary drew the line after twelve hours of staring at two types of wood to repair a bridge.

Paperwork days – as you called them – were the perfect opportunity for lazy mornings between you and Thranduil. Drowsily cuddling underneath silken sheets that caught the sunrise in their translucent fabric, shutting out the world for unhurried fooling around in each other's arms and with only your giggles and his huffed laughter carrying any indication you were awake at all.

Breakfast was served in your shared chambers and instead of getting up and dressed you took the small feast in bed, unbothered by the missed chit-chat and gossip that eating in the great hall brought forth for Thranduil's kisses are much sweeter than anything anyone could have done.

There is nothing the Elvenking wouldn't do for his significant other, including providing you with the ripest fruits to feed you only to lose himself in peppering kisses to your lips – chasing after the taste of the fruits that colored your lips red and pink.

"The sweetest," Thranduil mumbles, his lips moving from one upturned corner of your mouth over the bow of your lip to the other corner where he breathes another kiss into the crinkle of amusement that makes no effort of hiding across your whole face.

You are sprawled across the bed, still in an airy night robe that's pushed up to your thighs to leave room for Thranduil's hands to gently caress the skin.

The elf himself towers over you, the comfortable weight of his lean yet strong body pressing down on you as his hair falls over the both of you like a curtain of starlight. Your hands trail over his muscles as kisses the spot behind your ear that has you giggling and nudging your knee against his abdomen to push him away.

"Stop, my King–" you laughed, hands sprawled across his chest without any real strength behind them, "you know I can't stand this teasing!"

You feel the pull of his grin against your skin before you hear the rumble of his deep laugh. "I do, meleth e-guilen, I do," Thranduil says, and tipped his nose against yours, "but that makes it all the more tempting."

Your hands trail up to his shoulders and gather some of the light strands of hair, sweeping it over his back. His skin glows in the sun pouring through the window, thrumming under your touch, and with him draped over you, one warm leg between yours, the heat travels to you even if his broad back blocks out the golden light.

"Awful," you huff, "you are nothing but a dreadful lover, keeping me trapped here in bed." Like your hands on his chest, the words carry no harm behind them or any attempt to push him away from you.

If anything, you revel in the attention he peppers you with. The last weeks had dragged you apart and moments like this, where you had to think about nothing except for your lover's care toward you.

"Awful?" he repeats in a playful tone and makes a move to sit up. "Whatever did I do to deserve such harsh treatment?"

Instead, he quickly grabs you by your waist and before you can realize what's going on he has flipped you over, laughter bubbling up your lungs and spilling out while he falls back onto the mattress, pulling you with him and leaving you to topple over across him.

His fingers dig into your sides, holding you down onto him so you can't even escape the tickling that he dooms you with. "Awful, they say! I will show you dreadful, you minx."

Whenever you do make it out of bed eventually, hair all messed up by his hands, Thranduil insists on dressing you.

He treats you like you are made out of glass, warming up the milky creme in his hands before he massages it into your skin so that the chill doesn't bother you, and he sits behind you on the bed while he combs through your hair.

"Looks like thrush nested here," Thranduil chuckles. He barely evades the hand you swipe back at him as you snort indignantly. "Careful! You will scare the birds if you are not mindful of them"

The curse you throw at him instead has him gasping at the pure filth that leaves your mouth that, after hearing his reaction, curves into a smirk. "Get back to combing, Your Majesty. I do not have all day."

"Your word is my command, guren vell."

Thranduils lips kiss your neck, featherlight and then again, lingering. You sigh and let your head drop backward, falling to his shoulder, and blink up at him through lowered lashes, your eyes full of adoration.

His smile lights up a fire in your heart, the softness of it on marble features a reason to go to war just to see it again and for you to be the only recipient of this gentleness with which he wraps his arms around your middle, the hair comb long forgotten, that fuels the fire for all eternity.

On any other day, the duty to dress you would lay in the hands of your most trusted servants or your own, though nothing reached the level of wonderful that Thranduil made you feel right now, helping you to flowy robes.

For you, he even sinks to his knees, the only being alive that deserves this honor of the Elvenking kneeling in front of them, and you smile down at the crown in his hair, the silver circlet glittering just like his cerulean eyes in the midday sun, as he fixes your shoes for you but not without breathing more kisses on the inside of your calf which he carefully holds.

"Shall we walk through the gardens later?" Thranduils hand falls to your lower back on your way through the intricate floors of the underground palace, evoking a pleasant buzz in your stomach.

"We could go riding out," you muse, thinking back to the last time you and Thranduil had taken out the royal elk.

Thranduil steps closer, ignorant of the servants and elves rushing past you with lowered heads and bows, to nip at the curve of your pointed ear.

For everyone else, it looked like he had just kissed you, but his teeth grazed the delicate skin in a hidden manner.

That's how the public display of his utter devotion to you goes; loving kisses that – away from prying eyes – turn completely devoid of etiquette, as well as his hands that never seem to leave you, whether it's in the form of a simple pressure in your lower back or resting on your side to hold you close to him.

Thranduil did not need to put you on display for everyone to know you were his, the expression in his eyes told the story of a King completely in love in a way that didn't need flashy gems or luxuriant robes; not that those weren't gifts you regularly found yourself unpacking nevertheless.

"Whatever you wish for. My heart is your loyal servant," Thranduil vows, smiling at the bright-eyed expression you gift him at that.

The letters on his desk could wait for a day longer, he had all of eternity to manage his kingdom.

Thranduil spends the rest of the day tied to your side – or behind you on our royal moose, as you take him outside to the forest, Thranduils arms around your waist and his chin propped up on your head, as you let yourself fall into his chest. In these woods, with your beloved's sharp senses taking in all of your surroundings even while he busies himself with twirling the fabric of your robes between his fingers or drops kisses to your shoulder and neck, you are completely safe.

©itsonlydana 2024, character art by MiracleAna on Devianart

#📁files: thranduil fanfics #thranduil x reader #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil x you #thranduil oropherion #king thranduil #thranduil #the hobbit x you #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit fanfiction

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fieldofdaisiies · 2 months

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Scars Like Mine pt. 2

“Are we going flying now?” Elia bounces up and down on her chair, then gulps down the rest of her hot cocoa in one big sip. She taps her fingers onto the wooden table, her gaze ping-ponging between Azriel and you.

You reach for your daughter’s hand, trying to calm her a little while throwing Azriel an apologetic look, but he only smiles politely. “Azriel has just arrived here, my love, give him a little break and let him enjoy breakfast with us.”

It has become a natural thing for the three of you. Azriel has come here often in the past months, at least two times a week, to have breakfast with you and then go flying with Elia. Maybe on one or the other occasion, unbeknownst to your daughter, Azriel already arrived the evening before and spent the night with you. Yes, yes, it is true. The two of you have started dating a while ago and you couldn’t be happier.

Elia knows that you are dating, knows that her mummy is suddenly a lot happier, and her days are brighter. Elia loves this, loves to see her mother smile and laugh so much, and loves to have Azriel here to fly with her. He is great at flying and can teach her so many things. She has already learned how to do a turn, a twist and fly a spiral.

It gives you small heart attacks whenever you see those stunts, but you know that with Azriel, and him always being close to her, she is safe and nothing can happen to her, or will ever happen to her.

“It is fine,” Azriel says, “I’m almost done anyway.” He takes a sip from his water, before gulping down the whole glass and rising from his chair. Your gaze follows him, the outline of his strong, solid body, and you pull your lower lip between your lips when memories of the other night fill your mind. It is insane and should be forbidden what his wicked mouth and his hands can do, and you wonder how you got so lucky to have met him.

Not only for yourself. He is not only a god in the sheets. Azriel is everything you have ever hoped for in a male. Kind, caring, charming, wonderful, smart, and he loves your daughter and treats her with so much kindness and fatherly-love (even though she is not his daughter) your heart wants to cry. You have cried on many occasions already, not believing that you actually got so lucky to finally have this amazing male in your life.

Azriel reaches out his hand when Elia jumps up from her chair and starts punching the air. He brushes his scarred hand over your head and smiles when he meets your gaze. “We’ll be careful, I promise.”

“I know,” you smile up at him and place your hand atop his, thumb stroking his marred skin. “I trust you.” You rise as well, and kiss him on his cheek and then pull your daughter into your arms, squeezing her tightly while plastering her face with kisses. “I also trust you, no crazy stunts or twists or spins,” you tell her, knowing it is useless anyway.

In the corner of your eye you catch Azriel grinning at her, knowing that they plan on doing stunts and crazy twists and turns, but if it brings her joy, you would never forbid it. She will be fine you, you know it.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

“I am flying!” Elia blazes ahead of Azriel, throws him a big grin over her shoulder. She is now onto her third spin in a row, Azriel always close to her in order to catch her if she threatens to fall. She has turned into a great flyer, but Azriel doesn’t fully trust her abilities yet. She is still very young, the muscles in her wings not yet so strong.

She is so fast, and her laughter so radiant it fills Azriel with pure bliss. Seeing her happy, it is so good and knowing how happy her happiness makes you, is all Azriel needs in life. The two of you have made his life so much better – in you he has found a family, one that resembles the one his brothers have and he couldn’t be any happier.

“Look!” Elia hollers and Azriel grins brightly.

“So amazing, Elia!” he shouts to her over the rising wind, showing her thumbs up. She makes another spin and now even Azriel’s stomach dips. She catches herself and blazes away once again. She twirls around Azriel when she changes direction. And then…

Out of the blue, words leave her mouth that nearly make Azriel lose balance, that nearly throw him off his wings and make him slam to the ground.

“Look, dad, I am flying like a bird. I am weightless and free” She makes another twirl, one big swirl around Azriel, grinning from one ear to the other, fully oblivious to what she has just said.

For a few months, he has flown with Elia, many times, more than he can count on both hands, but never has she called him anything but Azriel before. It is hard to catch himself now. Although he never admitted it, he has always hoped for a little family of his own and children. And now…now this might truly become reality.

The rest of the flying session passes too quickly, Azriel is unfocused, distracted but always careful so nothing happens to your daughter, but his thoughts stray, and he finds himself imagining a future where the three of you are truly a family – you and him married, and Elia calling him dad on a daily basis. It is a beautiful dream, so beautiful tears start to burn behind his eyes when he catches Elia in his arms and helps her lower herself to the ground.

She inhales deeply, then tucks in her wings. “I need to tell mummy about flying today, come come!” She tugs at Azriel’s hand, already setting out for your hut, dragging him along with her.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

You brush the wet sponge over his back, and softly move on to his left wing, careful not to touch the sensitive parts. Leaning in, you kiss the nape of his neck, then carry on to help him wash his back. Elia is already fast asleep, after telling you everything about the flying session while you ate dinner. It was wonderful to listen to her, and you couldn’t stop smiling when she recounted all the swirls and twirls she made and how much joy flying brings her.

The only thing that confused you, how absentminded Azriel seemed during dinner. He hardly added any comments, normally he loved talking about flying with Elia, this time he kept calm, was mostly distracted and you really hope he will open up what has been going on within him.

It is almost as if he can read your mind, because only a moment after you finish your thought, he says, in a voice full of emotion, “Elia called me dad today.”

You stop. Everything stops. Your hand folds over your mouth, to keep the gasp that threatens to escape contained. Tears start to build up in your eyes and then the sponge drops into the water. “Are you–is it–I hope–”

“I didn’t mind,” Azriel answers quickly, having noticed your sudden tension. He turns in the tub, tucking in his wings so he can look up at you. “Actually…” He inhales a deep breath and his eyes close. “I actually appreciated it a lot, and didn’t mind at all. I liked it,” he sheepishly admits. “I have always wanted children, and being with you and having Elia in my life as well has brought me more joy than anything else in my life before. I couldn’t be happier and her calling me dad…it felt so right.”

“It is alright for you?” you ask, carefully.

“Of course!” Azriel turns even more in the tub and places his hand on your knee. “Is it alright for you? She has a father after all and he–”

“He was an asshole and I never ever want her to have anything to do with him. You are the best thing that could happen to her, and I love that she has probably realised that as well. She has never asked for her father, she knows that he has caused us this pain, that her body is marred from fire because of his doings.”

You swallow around the lump in your throat and tears roll down your cheeks. “I couldn’t have hoped for a better father substitute than you. You are everything I could have ever asked for and she loves you.”

“And I love you, and our little…”

“Family,” you finish for him, cradling his face in your hands and kissing his lips softly.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

At first you hear a door open. Azriel is deep asleep, he doesn’t hear it and also not the soft padding of feet over the ground. The bed dips on your side, and you reach out your arms, lifting your daughter into the bed. “Can I sleep here tonight?”

You kiss her brow. “Of course, my love.”

You help her crawl over your, so she can get comfortable between you and Azriel, snuggling up to your side, her face buried in the crook of your neck. Azriel stirs awake, but not completely, he mumbles a few incomprehensible words and then simply curls his arm around the both of you, inhaling deeply before falling right back asleep.

You have to smile to yourself, your heart so full of love and bliss, it nearly bursts out of your chest. And the smile stays on your lips when you fall asleep, the two most important people close to you, in your arms and you know that everything is alright and a bright future is ahead of you.

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii@nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22 @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @azriels-mate2 @callmeblaire @lilah-asteria

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar #acosf

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writerblue275 · 5 months

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How the Heartsteel members would take care of a sick/injured S/O.

Inspiration: Extremely self-serving, but I don’t care. I’m currently in the midst of a chronic illness episode. For me that involves an ungodly headache that can last for straight days, if not weeks, and other bs. All because my body can’t handle sodium 😭. If I don’t do something to distract myself, I’m going to cry, and I’d rather not do that, so here we gooooo.

Genre: Headcanon

Type: Fluff (very very slight angst in the concept [if you squint] just because you don’t feel good).

Gender: Gender Neutral Reader

Tw: None! This is pure fluff. 🥰

Aphelios

Aphelios would actually be a great caretaker.

I think a lot of this comes from an excellent example. We know Alune took care of Aphelios when he was injured/after his surgeries. Since he was the recipient of her wonderful care, he knows what to do.

Extremely prepared. He’ll work from your place as much as possible so he can be close by (he has that little mobile keyboard set up shown in his “what’s in my bag” pic). Excellent at running out to grab supplies/medication (I feel like he has an excellent memory so you just need to tell/show him something once). Also phenomenal at making sure you take your meds on schedule and changing any dressings/wraps.

If for some reason an extra set of hands is needed or Phel needs further advice on how to best care for you, you know who he’s texting? Alune! She is happy to help however she can because you’re her friend too and she hates knowing you’re sick/in pain.

I feel like Phel’s immune system is pretty strong so even if you were contagious, he’d cuddle you. If he was really worried, there’s always his mask. (Makes my public health heart sing.) He has many extras so you can snag one too in order to be doubly safe. You get those healing cuddles!

Ezreal

This is where Ezreal’s typical golden retriever energy is extra useful!!

Like genuinely I think Ez is a really really sweet “nurse” and will do an excellent job of taking care of you. Or at the very least, he’s great at distracting you and making you smile so you don’t feel as shitty/in pain.

I can’t see Ez cooking tbh (mood), but he is more than happy to order delivery/run to grab whatever carry out whenever you want it. If he can’t do it because he needs to stay with you for some reason, he’s texting Alune and the boys and practically begging them to help him out. (One of them always does. They love you and want you to heal.)

Also happy to run out to grab whatever supplies you need. This sweet green bean is so eager to help you heal that not only will he grab what you ask for, he’ll also grab other things that you might not need. He’s of the mindset it’s better to be overprepared rather than underprepared.

I can’t see Ezreal wanting to cuddle if you’re contagious, tbh, which is fair, but he’ll definitely make sure you have all the blankets and pillows you need. He will sit near-ish to you though and hold your hand. And if you’re not contagious? Oh he’s clinging to you as much as you want him to.

Kayn

Ok…so…this isn’t Kayn’s specialty as a partner, let’s be honest here.

Kayn is an amazing partner in so many other ways, but he’s not exactly...naturally nurturing? BUT that doesn’t mean he’s not going to try. He knows you need him, so he’s really going to put in a lot of effort to try and take care of you as best he can. (This secretly sweet rockstar!)

Kayn might fake grumble about it, but he will definitely go out and get whatever supplies you need. You may need to take a picture of a label/find one on the internet but he’s got you! (“Baby, there are so many CHOICES. How do I know which is the right one? I don’t want to get something you don’t need!”)

The first time you were sick/injured and he was with you, he texted the HS group chat for advice on how to take care of you and shocked everyone. (That was the moment the rest of HS knew Kayn was really head over heels for you. 🥹 <- Their faces as they read the texts.)

One thing I cannot see him doing is cuddling you when you’re sick (unless you’re not contagious). He doesn’t want to get sick himself. He will tuck you in and give you surprisingly soft forehead kisses though. He says they’re to check your temp but you know they’re to show he cares.

K’Sante

K’Sante is another member who just gives off such excellent and caring vibes. He has to come from a big, close-knit family, because he gives eldest brother vibes through and through.

Because of this, he’s perfect at taking care of you when you’re sick or injured. He’s done the same thing for his siblings/cousins many times.

Even though Sett is officially the best cook, I still fully believe K’Sante can throw down in the kitchen. Whenever possible, he’s making everything from scratch for you. You deserve it, after all. His meals alone will have you starting to feel way better.

He is fully stocked on OTC meds, ice packs, bandages, whatever you need. As a gym bro, K’Sante can get pretty sore, so he’s already got that stuff around for himself. Also, anything you need picked up, he’s got that taken care of.

As the eldest who took care of his younger family members, K’Sante’s immune system is PREPARED. Unless it is before a really big event, he would be fine cuddling you, even if you’re contagious. If it is close to a big event then he’s understandably a little more hesitant (he does have obligations to HS) but he’ll still be nearish to you and hold your hand so you know he’s there.

Sett

Ooooooh baby this is Sett’s time to fucking SHINE.

He was raised by his incredible Ma! Like of course Sett’s going to be really fucking good at taking care of you. (He already does an excellent job of doing that when you’re not sick/injured.)

We know he’s the best cook in the group so homemade soup/whatever comfort food you want/need you will have and it will be delicious. Really good about reminding you to take any meds you need to (he sets a reminder in his phone). Also fully stocked on OTC meds, medical wraps, ice packs, etc. Like he is PREPARED. (Perks of loving a gym bro.)

Happy to give you cuddles if that will help. I feel like Sett is another member that has an immune system of steel, so even if you’re sick, he’s still cuddling you if you want him to. (You definitely do like 95% of the time because how could you not?? Sett cuddles sound fucking elite!)

Worst-case scenario and you get sick while he’s traveling? He makes sure you are in the very best hands possible and sends in the big guns. That’s right, he has Ma come over to check on you/stay with you if need be (which she is happy to do because she adores you and loves how happy you make her son).

Yone

I think Yone would be a phenomenal “nurse!”

He might come across as cold/intimidating to those who don’t know him, but you always bring the soft side of him out. That’s totally applicable when you’re sick. Sweet Yone incoming!!

He cared for his younger brother Yasuo when he was sick or injured, so he is well versed in what supplies are useful for a multitude of ailments. Is well stocked on all of it too. If for some reason you need something and he doesn’t have it, he’s remedying that ASAP.

I’ve been thinking about whether or not Yone cooks. My gut says not really besides breakfast food. While he’s not going to make you homemade soup/your comfort food, you bet he’s asking Sett or K’Sante to make some for you. (They’re happy to do so. You keep your their producer sane. Helping you is self-preservation 😂.)

While he’s likely been injured many times, I feel like this beautiful motherfucker (affectionate!!) has never been ill a day in his life. His immune system is just that strong. Whatever the issue, he is down to give you whatever cuddles you desire. (I’m bringing back my headcanon of cuddly Yone and NO ONE CAN STOP ME 😋.) Enjoy the forehead kisses and sweet little verbal check-ins.

#heartsteel #heartsteel headcanons #heartsteel x reader #reader insert #headcanon #heartsteel aphelios #heartsteel ezreal #heartsteel kayn #heartsteel k'sante #heartsteel sett #heartsteel yone #heartsteel fluff

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fairyofshampgyu · 2 years

Text

Corrupt File !

genre: smut, college au

pairing: programmer! beomgyu x gn reader (afab when it comes to smut)

warnings: nsfw, sub virgin nerd! beomgyu, dom! reader, corruption kink, mentions of p0rn, handjob, riding

word count: 1.8k

Choi Beomgyu. Goodie two shoes in your comp sci class who was the teacher’s pet and notorious for being an ‘excellent’ and ‘strong’ programmer who can program amazingly well in any language and has great debugging skills. Apparently he learnt how to program at the early age of 7 and made his own pac man after a week.

He’s also a little pretentious bitch. He thinks he’s better than everyone else in the class and doesn’t bother speaking to anyone, giving others judgemental stares. You’ve seen him a couple times on campus with four other dudes though but none of them were in any of your classes. He comes to every single class early with his cute little outfits, sweater vests and cardigans whilst everyone else is in their hoodies and deranged with little sleep, sits at the front and doesn’t talk to anyone but the teacher.

You? Well, you’re mediocre at programming. You’re not too bad but you prefer other aspects of computer science and your programming skills have always made you slightly insecure because you weren't the best of the best and you didn’t learn it at some ridiculously young age and program 24/7 all types of games and websites and other stuff. You had to work so hard to actually get to a good level of programming whilst it came so easy to people like Choi Beomgyu. He seems so perfect. It made you want to imperfect him.

You were late to class today, getting a bit delayed by some cats on the way there. They were really cute cats what can you say! And you loved cats. But being late to class today meant that all seats were occupied except for the front row and the spare seat, unsurprisingly was next to Choi Beomgyu. He doesn’t pay you any attention though, waiting for his computer screen to load and then the teacher begins.

“Alright, today I thought our class was in great need of some partner work and we’ll be doing programming today. With whoever is sitting next to you, I’d like you to develop a program with them. It can be on everything and anything and you have the weekend to create it, using Python.”

Wow. It was just your luck.

The boy besides you sighs, pushes his cute, round, kinda too big for his face, glasses up and turns his body to face you.

To be honest, you wouldn’t have minded working with him. Despite being slightly jealous, you did admire his skill but with how hostile he was being and how clearly he resented the idea of working with you, you didn’t think this was going to go too well.

“...We could make like a simple video game or something...” You speak up first.

“On python? And too basic.” He rolls his eyes and shuts your suggestion off.

You’re slightly agitated with him now and you show it with your tone. “Well what do you think we should do then, huh?”

“I think we should make a music suggestion tool. We could make an algorithm run that recommends music based on what we think the user will like.”

He doesn’t wait for you to agree, opening up python and already starting to write some code.

For the rest of the class, you don’t contribute much, just trying to give him some suggestions to add maybe a function over there or a loop over here, maybe trying to find a reason as to why a syntax or logic error came up. You’re already halfway done and sure it would need more refining but now you know it won’t take up your whole weekend which is good. You watch him carefully as he stays very focused, fluffy dark hair falling into his face and eyes and his circular glasses that had drooped back down to his nose. You look down to his hands. He was very fast at typing and his hands were oddly very pretty.

Upon inspecting his features, you come to the conclusion that he was in fact actually pretty attractive. How had you never noticed before?

“We can carry on working on it at my place right now if you want?” Beomgyu asks, packing up his pink laptop, pink pencil case and pink notebook back into his crossbody bag after the class had finished. You stare at your own laptop that just has a black hard case cover, your pencil case that looks like it’s been through three wars, and your notebook that was really just a bunch of lined paper. Wow, he even had a theme going on.

“Oh I've actually got another class after this that won’t be done until about two hours but I can come after that. Just send me your address.” So you exchange phone numbers and go off your separate ways.

Apparently you were the only one who wasn’t informed that your class was actually cancelled today, your professor going on strike or something like that. Sighing, you check your phone to see that beomgyu had sent you his address and it’s not that far from the campus. You could go there early then.

knock, knock, knock. He was taking weirdly long to open his door and you could hear some rustling and bustling until he finally did open his door.

“Oh. You’re here early.”

“Yeah turns out my class was actually cancelled.”

His room was exactly how you expected it to look; clean and cute and quite perfectly him. The room had a pastel coloured running theme but mostly just pink and white. Fairy lights, strung across the headboard of his bed, a pastel pink record player in the right corner with an assortment of vinyls underneath, ones you recognised and liked and some you didn't recognise, an acoustic guitar to the left on a stand near his shelf and there was a worn out teddy bear occupying his bed.

He sits on his bed and you follow...and then you both just sit there doing absolutely nothing for a few seconds in awkward silence.

“Uhhh aren’t you gonna get your laptop? We wrote it on your laptop?” You laugh, awkwardly.

“Uh yeah. Right.” So he gets his laptop, very slowly opening it and he’s just about to open the .py file when his mouse board falters over the safari accidentally and the hidden window was freed with a very suggestive video on it paused and an even more suggestive website. Your eyes go wide and so does his.

“I-it’s not- it’s not what it looks like! I-it’s just when you’re watching on a dodgy website and those pop ups come up! yeah...yeah!” He’s furiously clicking the red button on the top left hand corner to close the window immediately. But you can’t help the grin slowly appearing on your face.

You move slowly closer towards him and he moves back, stopping when his head touches the pretty fairy light headboard. “Oh really? Because it seems like you were jerking off before I was here.” Your face is only a few inches away from his now and he gulps, looking up at you. When he doesn’t even say anything to defend himself, you chuckle at him. “What happened to the little goodie two shoes? I didn’t know you were such a fucking whore.”

“I’m not-i’m not a whore!”

“Are you sure?” You move to his clothed dick which was painfully hard now, lightly palming it and his whole body jerks, moaning and eyelids fluttering.

“More, more...”

You scoff. “Have you ever had a handjob before?” He shakes his head. “Do you want one?” Slack-jawed, he nods his head profusely.

You free his dick and take it into your hands, starting to stroke him and his hands fly to shyly cover his face, attempting to conceal his moans but not to much success.

“Don’t cover your pretty face.” You tut at him, “I wanna see it.” You bring your own hands to remove them away from his face. Not gonna lie, it’s turning you on immensely seeing beomgyu like this. Little put together, pretentious, perfect beomgyu is like this right now, begging you to touch him, clueless and embarrassed. You want to absolutely ruin him.

“Aw I bet you didn’t get to cum before did you?”

“yeah...”

“Don't worry, baby I'll let you cum.”

You use your thumb to go back and forth on his sensitive tip while your other hand grabs the base of his dick and his mouth hangs wide open in endless moans and gasps. You pump his dick fast up and down, ruthlessly jerking him off and his breath hitches.

“Close!” He lets out the loudest moan so far and you abruptly stop. He utters a frustrated whine, hips bucking up and pouting at you, “I thought you said you’d let me cum.”

You can’t help but giggle at him. He’s so cute. “I will. In my pussy.” That seems to shut him up.

You get on top of him, straddling his waist and gently pinning both of his hands to the headboard. He looks at you slightly nervous.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“But I want to.”

“You sure?” He nods his head.

“Okay.” You inhale a breath before positioning his tip to your entrance and you look to his face again for confirmation and when there’s no sign of uncertainty , you slowly sink down.

“Oh, fuck! Feels so gooood” His face contorts in pleasure and he turns his head to the side, burying it into the pillow whilst his mouth stays parted. You lift up and drop back down hard, making him cry out a loud moan and you begin to ride him slow.

He was already so blissed out by you riding him slow you wonder how he’d be if you quicken your pace so you do, riding him mercilessly now, basically bouncing on his cock and he moans uncontrollably, incoherent words coming out of him with a fucked out face in a daze. Only his moans getting higher in pitch by the second and the noise of skin slapping filling the room.

“C-cumming, cumming!” And with a loud whine and his eyes slightly rolling back, his dick jerks and spills all inside of you with his body trembling.

His face right after being fucked is gorgeous. He’s breathless and panting by his first proper orgasm with his cheeks and chest flushed, face glistening because of the sweat and his fluffy hair completely wrecked now, glasses a bit crooked and head in the clouds.

Yeah, maybe you won’t end up getting the program done in time after all.

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE REALLY APPRECIATED GUYS 😭<333

#beomgyu smut #sub! beomgyu #sub!beomgyu #sub!idol #sub! idol #dom!reader #sub! txt #sub!txt #txt smut #txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt headcanons #txt reactions #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu smut #choi beomgyu x reader #kpop smut #txt hard hours

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appleblueberry-pie · 5 days

Note

When Gojo asks why we won’t just be with him we tell him that he isn’t worth it 😔🫰

He isn’t worth the body or the history… I know a lot of people like to brag about having exes and body’s but that shit is so embarrassing to me 😭 like I feel like a whore because a boy kissed me in like middle school and he was a BOY. Boys are so gross omg-anyway-

Like why would I date you if we’re gonna break up? Get out of my face bro 😔

"....Is that what you became friends with me for? I'm not interested in dating you, Gojo."

Gojo never knew you were the type to reject people like him. He was everything you wanted in a man and he knew it. Money, extroverted, very fine, strong, tall, sexy, intelligent, all of the above. So....why did you say no to his confession? I repeat, HE CONFESSED and you rejected HIM. He couldn't help but accidentally voice his thoughts.

He leans back in surprised and scrunches his eyebrows at your response. "What?" You raise your eyebrows at his answer and continued eating the food he bought you at this expensive cafe that you now loved. ".....What? Never been rejected before?" You laughed at his response and kept eating. He wasn't gonna pressure you into dog shit, he could kiss ass. You did like his qualities. But with how the dating pool is currently, you wouldn't be surprised if he had three bitches lighting his phone up currently. You had zero hope in all men unless they don't use their phones at all and instead told you the worst jokes on planet in hopes of swooning you.

You would rather not date him. He was nice eye candy though. He gains his composure back and leans on the table. "Yeah, I have been, but I felt like we were both interested in each other, you know...?" You nod, understanding what he meant. "Yeah....sorry if it seemed like I was leading you on." He shakes his head, still incredibly butt hurt inside. "No, it's not your fault."

Why did you say no? He wants to ask desperately. Too many questions filled his mind at the possibilities. Were you lesbian and he was too stupid to realize? Was he not your type at all whatsoever? Was he too stuck up like Suguru said? He doesn't know. "Is it okay if I ask what made you say no?"

You shrug and look up in thought. "Well, it's not you, it's just....too much is happening right now. And I mean with everyone. Too many people are love-bombing each other, there's no genuine connection ever, then there's 'situationships', and a looot of people my age don't have patience for long-term relationships and it's just....i feel like- ugh i guess I'll say it. But I feel like you're the perfect person to have all of those qualities. You're very attractive, Satoru, so....I don't know if I'm ready to trust you enough not to put those labels on your head. It's dumb, but yeah. And I do too much with relationships. I put too much time and energy into the person I'm with, and i hate doing that knowing that there are so many people who've just neglected my needs in return. Basically, I love trauma."

Satoru watched you the entire time you spoke, so you found it hard to continue speaking, but you managed to push through. "Fuck them." You roll your eyes and he takes one of your fries, eating them. "I'm serious. I can give you everything you want and need y/n. I wouldn't ask you out if I didn't have a major attraction and connection to you."

You didn't look impressed, but he was determined. "I agree with you. None of the girls I tried to date just wanted me for sex. I know you would treat me better than that. And I would be willing to give you the love and respect you deserve. I get....I don't want to say this, but I get really happy at the thought of being able to provide for you. All I want is you. And it's okay if you don't want me now."

He takes a piece of your cake and eats it without your permission. "I'm willing to wait."

I'm sorry I took forever with this omg. This is the start of many. I might do like 6 more tomorrow. I need sleep.

#reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #slight yandere lol

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argisthebulwark · 29 days

Text

I'll Burn Alive For You

summary: Before he gets a chance to confess his feelings, he's already lost you. gn reader, no pronouns or yn used feat: Vilkas, Miraak, Farkas, Brynjolf warnings: explicit depictions of injury, death, and grief. masterlist

"I wanted to love you." Vilkas gulps, teeth gritted against those damned tears. His hands are squashed to your abdomen and the cave reeks of your blood. Bleary eyes stare back at him - he doesn't even know if you can hear him. Grabbing fistfuls of your armor he drags you to his lap, lungs burning with the sobs he cannot let out. "Please." He's gasping, begging for you to stay. Your fingers are chilly when they flutter over his hand, smearing blood over his skin. Your lips move around words he can't hear and rage smothers all the sadness - god, he hates himself. He's always been so selfish and here he sits, wasting your last moments begging for you to love him back. "Don't go." Vilkas pleads, struggling to keep pressure to your wound - he knows you've lost too much blood but he can't give up. "The others will be here soon, just - don't go yet." Farkas or Aela will know what to do. They'll have more bandages - he's kicking himself for packing the bare minimum. It's selfish and unfair but he grits his teeth and wills you to stay alive for him. None of it matters, of course. He's seen your wounds and knows when there's no coming back. The rest of the world feels hollow when your last breath rattles under his palm. He should have told you sooner. To hell with the fear of being rebuffed. He should have confessed how deeply you'd embedded yourself into his heart, that training you had become the highlight of his week, that when you accused him of glaring he'd merely gotten lost in thought of kissing you - he should have told you before you were dying in his arms.

He should be happy. Hell, Miraak should be celebrating - he's done it. He's beaten the damned prophecy that's hung over his head for so many years, he actually killed the Last Dragonborn. He survived your crusade on Apocrypha and withstood your attacks - he won. His cruel smile slips when your grip on his arm lessens. You were strong but he was quicker, the dagger easily finding the vulnerable curve where the plates of your armor didn't quite meet. Even when he twisted the knife you'd clung to him, bloodied lips pleading with him to find some other way past this. As Miraak watches your empty eyes stare off into nothingness he feels the life drain from him. Each breath that rattles through your lungs takes you farther from him, sending you to the one place he can't follow. His boots would never sully Sovngarde's heavenly fields but you, oh the gods know you deserve the best the heavens can offer. It's wrong. You are slipping through his fingers and he's powerless to stop it; dropping the blade Miraak grasps for your shoulders, attempting to shake life back into you. This is wrong. He fucked it all up and he needs to stop it. "Dragonborn." He can't make his tongue form your name, the very thought of it feels like a sin. He's done nothing to earn that type of familiarity. "I've changed my mind. We can find another way -" He knows that it is futile. Even as Miraak faces the god that has ruined every facet of his life and offers to forge a new deal he knows that his actions mean nothing - yet he cannot stop himself from trying.

Farkas feels the flame of his heart gutter out. Your hand grows limp where he clutches it to his chest, though your grip on his tunic loosens. He feels so far from the rest of the world, as if he's floating somewhere far from his body - this cannot be real. "No," his whisper breaks the silence, "not yet." It wasn't supposed to be like this. His heart is supposed to be skipping nervously when he asked you out to dinner - it was all planned out. You were supposed to return from the mission, exhausted but successful. Farkas would sweep you off your feet with the promise of dinner and a hot bath. You were supposed to listen to him stumble over his words trying to explain how deeply he'd grown to love you and giggle when he made some awful joke. This wasn't supposed to happen. Aela wasn't supposed to haul you back to Jorrvaskr soaked in blood and mummified with bandages. He wasn't supposed to hear those apologies - this wasn't right. "Don't leave me yet." Farkas begs, voice breaking when he raises your cold fingers to his lips. "We haven't gotten to the good part."

Brynjolf knows loss - grief has been his constant companion over his many years, but he'd forgotten how terribly it burnt when fresh. He heard nothing past the ringing in his ears after those fucking words passed Mercer's lips. "Real sorry, kid." Mercer offered a pat on Brynjolf's shoulder but he's forgotten how to speak. His mind replays that last moment over and over; the little kiss you'd left on his cheek before skipping after the Guild Master, the promise that you'll speak more after returning, the confident grin that made his heart skip. You were so full of life that it had overflowed into him, reigniting a heart that had felt dead for decades. No. Mercer is wrong. He chokes down whatever miserable sound threaten to escape his throat, eyes cast wildly around the Cistern praying that you'll hop out of some shadow and laugh at him for believing such a silly thing. His heart is beating too fast. He can't get enough air in his lungs. The room is spinning and he's going to be sick, he's going to lose his footing. Everything is wrong. Brynjolf has no clue what he's thinking. His feet are moving of their own volition when he trudges through Riften, mind buzzing with that terrible need to prove Mercer wrong. He'll fight through that fucking ruin and find you there - you could be injured, you might need his help. He will not lose you.

#writing #skyrim x reader #x reader fanfic #vilkas #miraak #farkas #brynjolf

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mysticovo · 7 months

Note

Hiya! Could you do a Rise!Donnie reverse hurt/comfort fic?It could be about anything,I just feel like that silly goose needs a hug or something.✨🌕

I studied code because I wanted you

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I was falling in and out of sleep. The sound of a keyboard filled the almost silent room. Soon the noise switched to tinkering, then back to typing every few moments. The relaxed breathing slowly became strained. A few angered mumbles drifted through the air.

I opened my eyes to a room bathed in purple. My face resting on something green and scaley. I originally came to the lair for a study date with my boyfriend, Don. Eventually it evolved to me on his lap cuddling him. I suppose I fell asleep in the process of it.

He was probably running updates on Shelldon or fixing whatever his brothers must’ve broken, again.I shifted my head to the side to gaze down at what he was working on. It was a…smart..toaster? I feel like it was used in another pranking war by the others.

He took of the case and was focusing on fixing the very, very damaged internal machinery. Specifically the heaters and power source. While also untangling the wires. It wasn’t working as he planned. He slammed down the screwdriver in his hand and slapped the other over his eyes.

“Dee?” I asked. He jumped once i said something, “ Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah of course I am”, he replied. His voice was wavering. The hand around his eyes tightened while the hand on his desk drifted to my back and hugged me closer to him. His entire body was shaking and his breathing became heavier. I sat up to fully look at him. It seemed as if he was on the verge of tears. “Oh Don”, I sighed out. That…might’ve been the final straw before he broke into tears. Donnie shoved his face into my top and threw an arm around my neck. I hugged him closer to my chest and laid my head on top of his. The sobs were a muffled mess and it was all I could hear. We sat there for a while. I don’t know for how long but it felt like hours…

A muffled noise came from Donatello. I looked down at him as he shifted his head to the side.

“What was that?” I asked him softly, I didn’t want to overstimulate him when he was already upset.

He sat back up and brought back that mask he usually had, the bad boy one of course.

“Never mind…I’m fine”, He mumbled back as he rubbed the last few tears out of his eyes.

“Donnie…you can’t just say you’re fine when you just broke down like that..” I at him again and brought a hand to his cheek/beak. He was avoiding my eyes. He was..hiding something. “You can tell me anything.”

“I just-“, He sighed and looked down at our laps,”-I’m the tech guy. I’m the smart one. It’s all I’m good for….if I can’t do this simple fix and be that, why would any of you need me..”. Tears had welled back up in his eyes, his voice was wavering again and it seemed like he was holding the cries back. He was…trembling.

“Don, none of us could ever think that-”, I paused, hugging him again and rubbing my thumb against his beak,”-Plus you’re more than that. Why even made you think that we wouldn’t need or want you?” I started to wipe away the tears in his eyes.

“You see everything my brothers do and are. Raphael is strong, everyone thinks Leo is funny and the face of the group and Mikey’s the creative one. I’m nothing like them..”, He mumbled it again, his gaze softened as he looked into mine.

“Donnie, I wouldn’t want you any other way. Preferably nothing like your brothers….no offense to them though.” I sort of laughed when I said it, I didn’t mean to though. I didn’t really expect him to laugh as well. More of a chuckle maybe? At least it was boosting his mood.

“You’re still funny at times, I love it when you make a science related joke that almost nobody gets. I sometimes get them though. You’re strong as well, it doesn’t matter if it’s with some tech or not. Remember that time you swung an entire giant drill with just a Bo stick? How is that not strong? What about all the battle shells, the turtle tank and all of the other tech you’ve made? You wouldn’t be able to without some creativity. I know you say you’re not like them but you are in your own special way. And I love that..I love you..”. I smiled at him, he had an expression on his face that was sort of hard to make out. I think it was a bit surprised, but somewhat happy? I gently and softly kissed him on his beak, right next to his mouth but not on it.

“I…love you as well…”. He mumbled it again. It was a hard thing for him to vocalize.

“please don’t ever think like that again. Now…do you wanna go back to cuddling? Maybe you can ramble as we do…”, I smiled at him and pressed my forehead against his.

“I’d..I’d like that..” He smiled back and hugged me, moving to grab his forgotten screwdriver.

“Want to hear some facts about uranium?”

~~~~~~~~~~~ The title is from Rat by Penelope Scott. I hope you liked this moon anonnie! Sorry it took so long! It’s been sitting in my school notebook for a while and has sort of become an inside joke from one line. Points to whoever guesses it. 💜🐢💜

(⌒▽⌒) Bai my mystic deers!!

#rottmnt #tmnt #tmnt donatello #hurt/comfort #rottmnt donnie #x reader #reverse comfort #donatello hamato #donatello #save rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt x you #save rise of the tmnt #save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #~mystic’s~fanfic~#mystic~asks

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thebestofoneshots · 8 months

Text

Weekly fic snippet!

Thanks for the tag sweetheart @starchaser-lily

Extract from Gilded Constellations Chapter 14

“All you want,” you replied with a smile “if he tries to kiss you, though, don’t blame me for it.” You both laughed, and a comfortable silence followed, then you remembered you still had books inside your bag and pulled them out, setting them on the bed beside him. He grabbed the one at the top, when you noticed which book it was, you pulled it from his hands. “You can’t read that one.”

“I can’t read… A Wizard's Handy Handbook of Spells?” He asked as he read the cover name from your hands.

“It’s not that,” you added holding it tightly between your arms. “It’s… not actually A Wizard's Handy Handbook of Spells, I charmed the cover.” He rose an eyebrow and tried to take it from your grasp, you pulled back but it was too late, he had it on his hands again. Remus had an awful lot of energy for someone who had been badly hurt just a couple of hours ago. “Remus, give me that!”

“I wanna know why you charmed the cover first,” he said while dangling the book in the air.

You looked at him with a frown and jumped forward to try and grasp the book from his hands, but he pulled it back, to the side of the bed. “Remus!”

“Am I gonna have to read it?”

You stood up, and extended your hands over him, to try and get the book that was on the other side of the bed, but your feet got trapped with your backpack strap and you ended up falling over Remus. He groaned as your body crashed over a particularly nasty bruise. Your scent filling his nostrils from the closeness, Sirius was right, you smelled awfully nice, a little like him too.

“Shit Rem, I’m sorry,” you said standing up as soon as possible “I didn’t mean to–“ the brusque movements had caused his shirt to rise up slightly and you actually saw the nasty bruise your body had crashed against, you looked at it with a concerned frown and then back at your friend “Remus…”

He adverted your gaze, he did not like being pitted “I’m fine.” He said once he turned back to you, using his free hand to pull down his shirt again “I’m strong, remember?”

“Yeah, someone falling over a bruise hurts, no matter how strong…”

He shrugged, he’d definitely had worse than you falling over him “you’re light, didn’t hurt much.” You looked at him, sighing “and you smell nice, no wonder Sirius wants to have you on his lap all the time.” Finally, you laughed, shaking your head as you stared at your friend. Remus realized you had a really nice laugh as you did, he shook hi head from the trance of staring, he wasn’t sure he’d ever found a girl as pretty as you. “Will you tell me what kind of book you were trying to hide from me, or will I have to figure it out myself?” He asked raising an eyebrow.

“It’s a spicy romance novel,” you said avoiding his gaze, he smiled diverted. The more you know, he thought. “It was recommended!” You added.

“Yeah, sure.”

“It was!” You insisted “by your little Ravenclaw girlfriend, actually”

“Nina Blythe?!” he asked in desbelif.

You nodded “Are you sure you don’t want to date her? She’s clearly into the good stuff.” He gave you a look and you laughed, Nina was beautiful, but she definitely still had a baby face, like Remus had said when you told him she had a crush on him.

“She’s not really my type.”

“Which is…?”

“None of your business, of course.” He replied sassily, and then changed the subject “How spicy?” He asked, curiosity taking the best of him.

You shrugged “I’ll tell you when I get to the spicy part,” you told him with a shrug, taking the book from his hands, he let you do it without any fuzz this time “but um…” you pointed at one of the other books on the bed “this one’s good, you’d like it.”

“Is it also spicy?” He teased.

“Remus!” You complained “not every single book I read is spicy!”

He shrugged “Wouldn’t shame you if you did.”

You rolled your eyes and let out a breathy laugh “It’s not spicy, but it is really good.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he said taking the book and opening on the first page. Soon enough the two of you were comfortably reading. You were so engrossed in your book you’d totally forgotten the initial reason you’d gone there. But as you continued flipping pages, it was like the string you had been trying to reach earlier was finally there, shining brightly for you to take it, and tie all the mysterious facts into one sole explanation. As your eyes moved through the words in the book, the description of the male lead started to resonate with you…

Remus was strong. Remus had a lot of scars and bruises all over his body, and they were definitely not caused by Grindyllows, he always carried around a calming draught, and had other rather strong pain killer potions on his room as well, he tended to stay away from you when you wore your silver ring, literally jumping from your grasp when you touched him with it on one time, and was also visibly mad at Sirius when he brushed over his fingers with it on, as if they both knew something you didn’t –electric shock, my ass.

…

Series Masterlist

I don't know if I should tag you guys on this one, since it's just a snippet but I'll do it, hope you enjoy this tinny lil teaser of what's to come...

TAGLIST: @rayrlupin @callmelovergirl @warcelia @ireneop @endversewinchester @moonyunebi @smuttysluttybitch @mazzymoons @sofiacblair @vmpir3lvr @remuslupinisbae @rabluver @willgrahamisalesbi4n @thatobsessedreader @orkwardx0 @itskailey24 @hell0-kittie @belovedmoony @blacksgarden @loving-and-dreaming @cassie-love20 @starchaser-lily @zucchini-queenie @springflwer07 @sseleniaa @cometsghost @orkwardx0 @imdoingbetternow @sbrewer21

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withlovewriting · 8 months

Text

All I Ever Knew, Only You 5: Bad Men

Chapter Five.

I saw the part of you that only when you're older, You will see too, you will see too, I held the better cards, But every stroke of luck has gotta bleed through, It's gotta bleed through, You held the balance of the time, That only blindly I could read you, but I could read you, It's like you told me, 'Go forward slowly, it's not a race to the end,' Well you look like yourself, but you're somebody else, Only it ain't on the surface, Well, you talk like yourself, no, I hear someone else though, Now you're making me nervous

Summary: Hawkins was your typical quaint, mid-western town where nothing ever happened. People were born here, lived their entire lives within the town limits, and eventually died here, peacefully in their sleep. But one cold November evening in 1983 would change everything.

Despite a child with psychokinetic abilities and ravenous monsters that lacked faces, stranger things had definitely happened in the small town in Indiana. One of them being your reluctant and slightly imposed friendship with Hawkins High’s own King Bee, Steve Harrington.

Characters: Steve Harrington x Non-descriptive F!Reader (eventual)

Words: 6,832

Chapter Warnings: Conversations alluding to physical abuse, explicit language, Jonathan beating Steve's ass, slut shaming, canon-type violence (which may or may not end in un-aliving someone), Carol and Tommy at this point are their own warnings, mentions of the death of a child/children.

Series Warnings: Strong language, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of drug use, canon-typical violence, mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions of possible mental health disorders, child abuse, slow burn, kinda enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, I like to call it ‘two idiots who begrudgingly befriend each other only to realize… ‘wait a damn minute…’, eventual sexual content, canon-typical time-period bullshit. 18+. Minors DNI.

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Chapter Five: Bad Men

Despite Nancy’s persistence, you declined the offer to stay at hers that night. Sure, none of you felt particularly safe, but you needed the comfort of your own bed that evening. Plus, you weren’t exactly willing to let Nancy or Jonathan see you cry.

All the lights were off when you arrived home, your mother’s car gone from the driveway, most likely in the town over where she could drink in peace after work. At least it meant she was far away from whatever was lurking in the shadows of the woods.

You’d crawled into bed after checking and rechecking the lock on the door, only slightly more worried about the creature than you were about your mother’s wrath of being locked out. Despite the presumption that sleep would manage to evade you, you’d fallen into a restless sleep eventually.

The only thing that seemed to rouse you from your fitful sleep was the incessant ringing of the phone, but thankfully a pillow over your head was enough to drown it out.

When the pounding on the door started, however, your body jerked upright, moving on its own accord. Your heart pounded rapidly against your chest as you crept towards the door and it was only when you heard Nancy’s voice calling out to you that your stomach returned to its rightful place in your body. Your annoyance, however, grew tenfold.

“Why are you banging on my door so loudly, and so early?” You asked, swinging the door open and almost knocking yourself out, “Do you know how lucky you are my Mom isn’t home?”

“We need to talk. It’s about last night.”

Nancy and Jonathan perched on your sofa, thighs lightly grazing and the former’s eyes taking in the mess in front of her. Broken coffee table, pieces of what she presumed was either a glass or — from the smell of the house — an ashtray littering the worn carpet.

“Should we say something?”

Turning, Jonathan’s own concerned expression met hers, but the boy shook his head, “No. It’s best if we just drop it.”

Nancy wanted to protest, but the sound of your bedroom door creaking open was enough of a distraction. Still, the girl couldn’t pull her ocean-blue eyes from the cut on your cheekbone as you rejoined them.

“Please tell me you’re not going back in there,” you sighed, sitting on the small armchair as you watched the two closely.

“No. Not exactly, anyway.”

Releasing a deep sigh, you grabbed the packet of cigarettes from the side table, lit one up, and settled back into the seat, continuing only once the thick smoke had burned your lungs, “I don’t like the sound of that. What do you plan on doing? Wait for it to climb back through your wall?”

Nancy shuffled slightly, her cheeks tinted a dusty rose as her thigh nudged Jonathan’s, “The night Barb went missing… She had a cut on her hand. She tried to shotgun a beer and slipped.”

Your brows pulled together as you watched the girl silently. If she had a point, she needed to get to it.

“You never told me that.”

“It didn’t seem important at the time,” Nancy’s eyes dipped to her knees when she saw the annoyance cross your face but forced herself to continue, “but after last night… That thing didn’t have a face but it still chased us. It still knew where we were. It hunted us.”

Rubbing your hand over your face you winced slightly as your fingertips grazed over the small gash on your cheekbone, “Yeah, I was there, Nance. I don’t need a reminder.”

“No, I mean… It couldn’t see us. I know it heard us but… It was tracking us. Tracking you.”

Releasing a sigh, you stubbed out the cigarette straight onto the end table and sat forward resting your face in your hands, “Nancy, please. Just spit it out.”

“You have a cut on your face, your hands… There was a reason it went after you and not me, and I don’t just mean your name-calling.”

Jonathan’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked between you both, unaware of what fully happened on your trip to the Upside Down.

“You think it what... smells blood? Hunts like a shark?”

Remaining quiet, Nancy simply nodded causing the slightly condescending smile that had tugged at your mouth to drop, “Shit. I mean, I guess that makes sense.”

“We’re going to kill it.”

Nancy’s voice — however soft — was full of determination, and that might’ve been the only reason you didn’t laugh at her absolutely ludicrous idea. When neither of the two continued to speak, merely glancing at you like two puppy dogs, you let out a long sigh,

“You don’t even know if you can kill it, let alone how.”

“It has to have a weakness-”

“This isn’t some kind of fairy tale villain, Byers. You don’t have a clue what this thing even is.”

“We were hoping that maybe you’d help-”

Pushing yourself from the small chair, you couldn’t hold in the frenetic laugh that bubbled up from your chest as you shook your head, looking anywhere but the two delusional teens who were perched ramrod straight on your couch,

“You’re both out of your minds. I’m not tagging along on this suicide mission-”

Jonathan’s voice trembled, but his dark eyes remained steady on you, “We know the stakes. We know that this thing, whatever it is… It’s dangerous. Deadly. But this is about my brother. This is about Will. And I’m doing this for him, even if it kills me.”

Your pacing had halted the moment the boy spoke with such conviction, feet suddenly cemented to the ground as he stood and made his way toward the door, Nancy dubiously following him.

“I get that you’re scared. And I totally understand if you don’t wanna do this. But we thought that you should know.”

Sending you a sad smile — one that told you no matter your decision, Jonathan wouldn’t hold it against you — the boy pulled open the door, beginning to make his way outside, only for your words to halt him,

“How the hell are we gonna kill this thing?”

Two sets of eyes turned back toward you, brightened with the hope that they wouldn’t have to do this alone. Nancy took a few steps toward you, ignoring the cracking of already broken glass under her boot, a small gracious smile pulling at the edges of her lips,

“We have a few ideas.”

“This feels beyond illegal,” you huffed, following Jonathan around the Hawkins Hunting and Camping store, and the fact that you were now here to fight some kind of faceless monster that had already planned on making you its next meal almost made you laugh outwardly.

Jonathan — not quite able to muster the same amount of tact you had — snorted quietly, causing you to peel your eyes away from the wall of rifles and send him a sharp glare instead, “Since when were you concerned with breaking the law?”

Grabbing a gas canister from the shelf in front of you, you didn’t bother to lessen your stare, “Since my Mom got called to the school by the cops, maybe?”

Jonathan took the canister from your hands, sad eyes boring into the small cuts on your palm. Suddenly much too aware of the unspoken question that was on the tip of his tongue, you squirmed on the spot, shuffling your weight between each foot as you crossed your arms over your chest.

Palms now blocked from his view, he bypassed the mark on your face completely and instead sent you an eye-roll, hoping to defuse the uneasy tension that had quickly built between you, “Please, as if Hopper would let anything happen to you.”

Hearing just the man’s name forced your brow to pull into a frown. Grabbing the gas back from the boy’s grip, you turned on the spot and marched toward Nancy, who was silently browsing the different types of animal traps.

Piling all of your wares into the trunk of Jonathan’s car, a red car cruised by honking, and a — somehow, even more annoying — familiar face peered out of his wound-down window. Reed Jackson.

You barely caught the derogatory comment he howled towards your small group, and it took you a moment to realize that it wasn’t actually aimed at you.

Breaking into a power walk, you stalked after Nancy as she made her way down the street, halting so quickly in front of The Hawk that you almost barreled right into her. Peering up towards where Nancy was staring — her crestfallen expression tugging at your heartstrings — you cursed under your breath as you took in the painted red words,

ALL THE RIGHT MOVES STARRING NANCY THE SLUT WHEELER

You were confused at first. Nancy was well-liked among your peers at school — even if she was a little prissy — and you wracked your brain to try and work out who would’ve written something like that about her. If anything, you were sure Nancy’s reputation leaned a little closer to prude than anything else, and if you weren’t — unfortunately — privy to the fact she’d had a tryst with Harrington, you might’ve assumed the same.

And then you heard them.

Nancy was already moving, and you and Jonathan chanced a glance at each other before following her, hot on her heels as she turned down the alleyway and came face-to-face with the man himself.

Tommy ceased his new artwork — naming Jonathan as his next victim — as you all watched with bated breath as Nancy and Steve stood in a silent showdown.

It was a slap that could be heard around the world. Harrington’s head shot to the side by the sheer force of impact alone as his friends all let out a shocked gasp. If you were being honest, you didn’t know Nancy had it in her.

“What is wrong with you?” She asked, and you couldn’t help but feel impressed that she hadn’t allowed her voice to crack. It was obvious she was hurt, but you couldn’t work out why Steve was so upset with her.

Steve’s darkened eyes peered down at the girl, the only part of his face that didn’t remain stoic, “What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you. I was worried about you.”

Nancy’s mouth opened, but Steve didn’t let her question him, “I can’t believe that I was actually worried about you.”

You couldn’t help but watch the two, your eyes darting between them as you watched their verbal tennis match and it wasn’t until Tommy interrupted his girlfriend's attempt to involve herself in the couple’s business that you realized his attention had been turned to Jonathan instead, and it all seemed to click in place for Nancy.

All but rolling her eyes, she watched as Jonathan timidly approached, his dark eyes darting between Nancy and Steve.

“You came by last night.”

“Ding! Ding! Ding! Does she get a prize?”

“Shut up, Carol.”

You ignored her pointed side-eye as Tommy wrapped his arm around her shoulders, cigarette dangling from his mouth.

“Look, I don’t know what you think you saw, but it wasn’t like that.”

“What, you just let him into your room to… study?”

The realization that Jonathan had stayed over at Nancy’s last night caused you to bite down on your bottom lip. If Steve had come over and seen them, then sure… It probably looked bad. But he should’ve trusted Nancy. If anyone had a reputation, it was him.

The guilt hit you just as quickly, knowing that if you had taken up Nancy’s offer and stayed, maybe Steve would’ve been a little more understanding, and she wouldn’t be slut shamed on the front of The Hawk’s marquee.

“We were just…”

“You were just what? Finish the sentence,” When Nancy didn’t respond, Steve stepped in closer, peering down at the girl with nothing less than disgust, “Finish the sentence.”

Your eyes darted toward Jonathan, the boy’s own were wide and unsure. They hadn’t been doing anything, you knew that. But you couldn’t explain the reasoning to Steve.

Scoffing, Steve began his retreat, “Go to hell, Nancy.”

“Come on, Nancy, let’s just leave,” Jonathan tried to pull at her arm, but Steve stopped, turning quickly for one last stab.

“You know what, Byers? I’m actually kind of impressed. I always took you for a queer but I guess you’re just a little screw-up like you’re father.”

Steve continued to push the boy as you all tried to walk away, but his anger was bubbling under the surface, his words purposeful and full of indignation, wanting nothing more than to hurt Jonathan the same way he was hurting.

Jonathan froze at the mention of his father, and you knew why. Lonnie Byers was an absolute piece of shit who walked in and out of the Byers’ boy’s lives constantly throughout their childhood before wandering back in as if nothing had happened. He was cruel and selfish, and Jonathan had felt it was his duty towards his mother and brother to protect them from the violent man's wrath.

Jonathan was nothing like Lonnie.

But Steve saw a chink in Jonathan’s normally stoic armor and continued to pick.

“Ignore him, Jonathan. He’s not-”

“Yeah, that house is full of screw-ups. You know, I guess I shouldn’t really be surprised. A bunch of screw-ups in your family. I mean, you’re Mom-”

“Harrington, just stop.”

“I’m not even surprised what happened to your brother. I’m sorry I have to be the one to tell you, but the Byers? Their family is a disgrace to the entire-”

Steve didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence as Jonathan’s fist flew through the air, connecting with the former’s jaw, knocking him sideways.

The silence was piercing and seemed ever-lasting as everyone froze, waiting to see what would happen next. Steve — who wasn’t really one to physically bully anyone at school — versus Jonathan, who’d only ever been on the receiving end of a fist.

Steve rushed the boy, tackling him to the hood of a parked car before using his body weight to throw him to the floor.

Nancy stood trying to get the boys to break it up, whilst you stood wide-eyed doing your best impression of a fish. Despite the fists that were thrown, you couldn’t help but picture two hairy cats scrapping in a yard.

But Steve had pushed Jonathan. After everything that had happened, Steve’s comment was the straw that broke the camel’s back and as far as you were concerned, the boy deserved every hit that Byers got in.

Tommy shoved his way between the two, but Steve beckoned him off as the two began to brawl again. At least Harrington had one redeeming trait and kept the fight fair.

The next thing you knew, Steve was dragged up by his friends before running off in one direction, and Jonathan was being restrained by Powell after Jonathan had elbowed Callahan accidentally after one incredibly painful right hook to Steve’s cheek.

You stood with Nancy in shock watching the boy as the adrenaline finally wore off, his body becoming lax against the hood of the same sky blue Ford he was not too long ago thrown onto, his breath coming out in pants as Powell handcuffed him and led him into his own vehicle.

“I’m just saying, Florence, that I don’t know why I have to be here. I wasn’t even the one fighting.”

The older lady peered at you from under her glasses before she made her way to the small freezer, you quick on her heels, “And I’m just saying, young lady, that you have to be here to give a statement. And whilst I’m glad you’ve — for once — kept your hands to yourself, I won’t if you continue to follow me around this office like a pesky little gnat. Now take a seat. The Chief will be back any time now.”

Sending a sarcastic smile her way as you mock saluted, you made your way back to where Jonathan was handcuffed to Powell’s desk. You’d known Flo for a long time, and her comment was more so a promise, than a threat. You’d been on the receiving end of her swatting hands more than enough times to know she didn’t fuck around with empty threats.

Nancy stood, making her way toward Flo to request some ice for the boy, whilst you watched her from a safe distance. Even Nancy Wheeler wasn’t safe from the older woman's annoyed whacks.

“I’m not one to condone fighting-”

Jonathan huffed out a small puff of laughter through his nose, dark eyes staring up at you as you perched on the desk. Raising your brows, you crossed your arms over your chest and hoped to keep the mischievous grin your from lips long enough,

“As I was saying… Whilst I do not condone violence of any kind… You totally kicked Harrington’s ass back there.”

A languid smile graced his features, but couldn’t quite meet his eyes.

“I mean, really. You totally had him. If the cops hadn’t broken it up, he’d probably be lying unconscious in that alley still. What the hell got into you?”

Jonathan’s brow furrowed slightly, his eyes full of confusion as your expression turned serious, “I thought you didn’t care about Harrington-”

“I don’t,” you reiterated, placing a hand over his own, “I care about you, Jonathan. And this isn’t like you. I’ve never seen you hit back in a fight, let alone throw the first punch-”

“I’m not proud of it,” he told you somberly, his eyes peering down at the metal around his wrists, “But what he was saying, about my Mom, and Will… about Lonnie. I just… I couldn’t stand it.”

“And nobody blames you for that. I’m sure Hopper will understand, and it isn’t like Callahan’s going to press charges. That’s way too much paperwork. This is just… just mandatory.”

Sighing, Jonathan’s shoulders hunched even further as his hands moved, testing the strength of the cuffs, “How can you be so sure? God, this is the last thing my Mom needs right now-”

“Last year, I was at a party at Mike Lewinski’s house, and one of his neighbors called the cops to break it up. Callahan got hold of me when I was running, and when I tried shoving him off, I accidentally headbutted him. Broke his nose and even heard the bone crack. And yet, here I am to tell the tale. I mean, sure... I had to scrub the floors here every day after school for a week, but no juvie.”

“I found some ice.”

Removing your hand quickly from Jonathan’s you turned to send Nancy a small smile, “And now she’s back, I’m gonna head out.”

“Didn’t Mrs Larkin tell you to stay here until Hopper arrives?” Nancy questioned, her blue eyes darting between you and Jonathan as if she was trying to unravel something that she couldn’t quite make out.

Sending her a sardonic smirk, you pushed yourself from the edge of the desk, eyes settling on the secretary who was now tapping away on her computer, the repetitive clack, clack, clacking already grating on you,

“Me and Flo are on a first-name basis. Plus, Hopper is kinda the reason I want to leave.” Placing a hand onto the girl's arm, this time you smiled at her warmly, “He’ll be fine. And if you’re still up for our monster-hunting session later, let me know and I’ll be there. Until then, I’m gonna go find my bike.”

Waiting until Flo turned in her chair to rifle through some files, you began your descent to the door, almost breaking out into a jog. You heard the woman’s annoyed call of your name and could bet a hundred dollars that she hadn’t even turned around.

Barely squeezing through the small gap of the door — sneaking as if the woman hadn’t already spotted you — you left her with your parting words, “If he needs a statement so bad, then Hopper knows where I live.”

You really didn’t want to head back to the woods alone, you thought to yourself before letting out a long, annoyed sigh.

Hands burrowed deep in your jacket pockets — a futile attempt to keep them warm — you continued your long walk. After grabbing your bike, you’d head back, tidy up the mess from the previous evening, and hope that Hopper didn’t make a home visit. Then, you’d wait for Nancy’s call before heading out to what felt like your inevitable death.

Plucking a cigarette out of your crumpled pack, you shook your lighter a few times, cursing under your breath when the damn thing wouldn’t light.

Grumbling, you made a slight detour and headed to Fair Mart, only to stop abruptly when an irksomely familiar head of hair caught your eye.

Perched on the hood of his BMW sat a bruised and bloody Steve Harrington.

“It suits you, you know?” You told him as you approached, his head jerking up in your direction.

“What does?”

“Getting your ass handed to you. Maybe someone should do it more often.”

He tried to roll his eyes, but you caught the slight flinch, brows pinching together in pain, “Look, I’m really not in the mood-”

“Where do you get off on treating people like shit? The stuff you said about Byers? Not ok. And the shit about Nancy? What is wrong with you, Harrington?”

“What’s wrong with me? Jonathan and Nancy were-”

“You have no idea, do you? Jonathan has just lost his brother. He’s still grieving. And Nancy? With your reputation, I wouldn’t exactly be throwing stones in a glass house.”

“Come to fight your boyfriend's battles for him?” Carol asked before popping her gum, glaring at you as she made her way back towards Steve, her boyfriend’s arm in its usual place over her shoulder.

Leering at you, a haughty smirk pulled at the edges of Tommy’s lips, “Yeah I mean, how does that work now? Are you and the Princess gonna have allocated days, or just, you know… Share? Together.”

“Ew, Tommy, shut up. There’s not enough bleach in the world to get that image out of my head.” Carol glared, elbowing her boyfriend in the ribs and causing his arm to drop from her.

“Do you two ever shut the fuck up? Seriously, you’re insufferable.”

Popping her gum a little too loudly, Carol’s icy blue eyes set on you in a cold stare, “You wanna go for another little trip, freak? Or did your Mommy already beat me to it?”

“You don’t know shit about shit, Carol.”

“Really? Are you sure about that?” Carol let out an insolent cackle, stepping closer to you, “Because we all know how much your Mommy likes to pour liquor down her throat after your dad left. I mean, I’d probably go crazy too, if one of my kids died because the other one was a useless, pathetic-”

“-That’s enough, Carol.”

Huffing out a surprised laugh from her nose, Carol turned toward Steve, who had pushed himself from the hood of his car, his body slightly shielding you from her.

“Are you kidding me, Steve? Please, it’s no wonder her only friend is Byers. They both have something in common. Fratricide, right?”

“Don’t forget that loser, Bridgette or Brenda, or whatever-”

“Oh god, her. Yeah, gotta admit though, I’d rather be dead than stuck with you, too-”

“Her name was Barbara, you stupid son of a bitch-”

Leaping toward the girl and fully prepared to have a fight of your own, you were quickly blocked by Steve’s chest as he swiveled, the boy using his body to hold you back as Carol cackled out loud, despite the quick back step she took, hiding slightly behind her boyfriend who didn’t bother to move.

“Get off of me, Harrington-”

“You’re gonna end up doing something you regret, trust me-”

“Oh my god, you really are a psycho. Runs in the family, I guess.”

Carol’s words only egged you on further, the annoyance you felt toward Steve suddenly hidden under a blanket of rage toward Carol, and a need to smash her stupid face into the sidewalk.

“Carol, shut up-”

“Everything okay out here?”

Turning your head, you saw Earl from the gas station exit the store, squinting in your direction before looking around at the group. Finally managing to shake Steve’s grip from your biceps, you took a step away from the group, eyes flitting toward the older man,

“Everything’s fine, Earl.”

“You sure? I can call Hopper if-”

“-No. It’s fine. I was leaving anyway.”

Earl remained still for a moment longer, uncertain as to whether or not he should leave, but when you sent him a stiff nod, he slowly made his way back toward his car, lingering for just a moment before getting in.

“Remind me again, is the chief your mom’s boyfriend, or yours?”

The catty remark went over your head — just — as you turned your attention back to Steve, the boy at least having the decency to look abashed, “You know… For weeks I had to listen to Nancy go on and on, defending you to Barb, telling her that she didn’t really know you and that you were actually a decent person, and for just a minute there, I thought maybe you were.”

Steve’s brows pulled together, disgrace and pain etched across his features as clear as day as he waited for you to continue, his brown puppy dog eyes staring into your soul, “But maybe Barb was right. We might be freaks and losers… But you guys are assholes. You’re an asshole, Harrington.”

Ignoring the need for a new lighter and instead stomping off towards the woods in an attempt to locate your bike, you could hear Carol’s high-pitched voice, mocking your words as you left.

“You say blood draws this thing?” Hopper asked, eyes locked on the beast in the photo Joyce had handed to him.

“We don’t know…”

“It’s just a theory.”

Hopper raised a brow toward the teens, waiting for one of them to clarify. Unsettled under his stoic observation, Nancy broke first, explaining about Barb’s cut on her hand, about how the monster seemed to hunt you down as if it could smell the clotted blood on your cheek.

“Wait a damn second… You’re telling me she’s gone back to the place where this… thing tried to attack her?”

“She’s looking for her bike,” Jonathan shrugged, face pinched as he realized the danger you’d put yourself in, “but we’ve only seen this thing at night.”

His reassurance fell on deaf ears when Nancy piped up, explaining how she was certain she’d seen it stalking around the woods at the back of the Harrington house. A curse fell from Hopper’s mouth as he rubbed a hand over his beard,

“The other day she… She was running from something. She told me… shit. She told me about it and didn’t think I believed her. But she saw it. You all saw it?”

Nancy and Jonathan looked toward each other before nodding.

“Right. Ok. Shit. I’ll be back.”

—

“How long ago did she leave, Flo?”

“What am I? Her personal timekeeper?” Flo sighed, continuing to type on her computer until Hopper slammed a hand on his desk, making the other officers around the station jump, but Flo was immune to Hopper and his sudden outbursts, “About an hour and a half ago.”

“And you just let her go?”

He knew that directing his irritation toward his secretary wasn’t right, but Flo was more than aware that it wasn’t just irritation coursing through Hopper’s body. Right now, he was worried.

“I have about as much luck keeping her in this station as I do getting you to complete your paperwork.”

And as always, Flo had a point.

Spinning on the spot, you were certain this was where you’d left your bike the night prior. You could still see the track marks where you’d almost barreled into Nancy. Your heart was pounding as you stood with your hands on your hips, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip.

Taking one last look around and preparing to return home empty-handed, you spotted what looked like drag marks. Inhaling deeply, you forced your feet forward and ignored the lump that began to creep its way up your throat, threatening to suffocate you.

Pushing back the bush, your eyes widened as your hand found its way to your mouth to stop the loud scream that was bound to erupt from you. You’d found your bike, but it wasn’t exactly… ridable.

The metal frame was bent out of shape along the down tube and completely torn apart at the top tube. One wheel was flat and torn as if something had bitten into it and decided that rubber tiers were of a selective palate, and you were missing an entire pedal, crank arm included.

Blood stained the side of it, and you could only presume that the monster had been stalking about after eating the deer it had allegedly dragged into… wherever you found it.

Nose scrunched up in disgust, you pulled the bike through the bush as quietly as you could, an annoyed huff falling from your lips as you fully took in the irreparable damage, “Well shit…”

—

Your legs ached as you trekked through the woods — following the train tracks that would lead you back to civilization — but you didn’t stop until you reached the junkyard, the fear of the woods still at the forefront of your mind no matter how much you tried to compartmentalize it.

“When do you feel good about anything?!”

Your brain forced your body to halt mid-step and kick a metal pipe that was on the floor, profanities falling from your mouth as you hobbled about on one foot, your hands grabbing the metal pole, ready to launch it across the yard. The voice was muffled, but loud enough to be close. Looking around, you could hear a commotion, hushed voices bickering somewhere in the distance, and it wasn’t until you turned toward the old, broken-down school bus that you saw four pairs of eyes staring at you, heads quickly darting down when they realized you’d noticed them.

“You know, a junkyard really isn’t the kind of place you wanna be hanging out. There’s rats and all kinda shit here. Literally.”

You could hear mumbled conversations before a lone head popped up, eyes widening when the person was quickly yanked back down.

Raising a single brow, you began to walk toward the bus once you realized you recognized the owner of the big, brown eyes and most likely the owners of the bikes that were not-so-well hidden under the vehicle, “Lucas? Is that you?”

More mumbling, before a singular voice caught you off guard, “I can deal with her.”

Unable to control the small huff of laughter at being threatened by a preteen, you knocked on the bus door, watching as the same four pairs of eyes peered around the bus seats,

“Sinclair? What the hell are you doing out here?”

“Are you sure we can trust her? What if she’s with them?”

Lucas shoved off the vice-like grip from his jacket before sending his curly-haired friend a deadpan look, “She’s my babysitter. I really don’t think the bad men would’ve bothered with her.”

More grumbles and hushed whispers continued as the boy made his way toward the barely closed door, pulling it open fully and letting you in.

Once inside, he quickly shut the door as best he could behind you, eyes widened when he saw the broken metal pole still in your grip.

“Why are you holding that?” Nancy’s little brother questioned, eyes brimming with suspicion as he stood in front of a small girl.

Looking down toward the object that in all honesty you’d forgotten that you were even holding, you placed it on a front seat before making your way toward the group slowly, the little girl's eyes never leaving you, “Why are you guys hiding in a broken down bus?”

“Have you seen them?”

“Seen who?” you asked, turning to watch the curly-haired boy, Dustin, peering out of the window.

“A bunch of bad guys in repair trucks. They’re after us-”

Unable to hold in your snort, you settled onto a seat in front of Lucas, “Why? Did you steal their hammer wrenches or something?”

“This is serious, alright? They’re really, really dangerous and if they find us, they’ll kill us all. You included!”

Finally taking him seriously, you turned back toward Dustin as he settled in his seat and let out an exasperated sigh, “Wait… You guys are being for real? Why would a bunch of repairmen-”

“They’re not repairmen! They’re from Hawkins lab, and they’re after us because we have her!”

Your eyes turned toward the small girl, her brows furrowed slightly as her dark eyes watched you with a type of fear you’d never seen before. They were being serious.

Sitting up straighter, you shook your head, “I haven’t seen any guys in any trucks, but I came through the woods. Have you told Hopper? He could-”

“Lando Calrissian!” Dustin bellowed, a finger pointing at Lucas.

“The dude from ‘Star Wars’?” You questioned, forehead creasing in confusion at the boy's sudden outburst.

Dustin’s eyes somehow widened as his mouth fell open, “We finally meet a chick who’s into science and ‘Star Wars’, and we’re gonna die! How is this fair? How is this just?”

“Ok, first of all, Curly, don’t call me a chick. You’re like, what? Ten?”

“-I’m twelve-”

“-I don’t care. And second of all, Hopper isn’t going to betray you. If you’ve contacted him and he knows about these… bad men, he’ll keep you safe.”

The sound of approaching cars caused all of you to turn and look out of the window, Lucas’s hand grabbing your jacket to tug you down with the rest of them when they’d realized it wasn’t, in fact, Hopper.

“What was that you were saying about him keeping us safe?” Dustin asked, hiding behind a half-broken seat.

“Are you sure these guys are the bad men?”

The little girl nodded, her coffee-colored eyes felt like they were penetrating your soul as she spoke softly, voice barely above a whisper, “Bad men.”

You nodded before inhaling slowly, moving into a crouch as you crept toward the front of the bus, hands wrapping around the discarded pipe,

“What the hell are you doing?” Mike whispered, eyes wide as he watched you.

The little girl’s clear trepidation caused a field of goosebumps to burst through your skin, and despite barely knowing these kids, with the exception of Lucas, you believed them.

“Your bikes are under the bus, they’ll know you’re here. Just… Hold out until Hopper gets here. You can trust him, I promise.”

You held up your finger in a silent attempt to hush them as you crept a little more forward, taking up a crouched position at the front of the bus, peering out of the window before quickly ducking back down.

They had found the bikes.

As the broken door creaked open, you tightened your sweaty grip around the pipe, chest heaving as you watched the man appear in front of you. His eyes narrowed slightly, definitely not expecting to see you there right before the loud thunk of metal echoed around the small bus, the man dropping to the floor as blood began to pour from his temple, staining the dirt. The same blood that had splattered down the sleeve of your jacket.

Sharp gasps fell from the boys' mouths, whispered curses only stopping when a commotion could be heard from outside as you pulled the door together before raising the pipe behind you once more.

The door creaked open, and you swung. Your breath caught in your throat as a large hand gripped the now bloodied pipe, blue eyes wide as the man flinched away from you,

“What the hell, kid?”

The car ride was silent as everyone's eyes flittered around, unsure glances between friends as they sat ramrod straight, crushed together in the back of Hopper’s cruiser.

Your eyes, however, remained unfocused on the road ahead as darkness quickly swept across the town, your body finally rid of adrenaline, the events of the junkyard playing dangerously over and over in your mind, causing your hands to shake.

“What the hell were you doing out there, kid?”

Blinking a few times, you tried your hardest to stop any tears from falling, “I was looking for my bike.”

“Yeah, I found it,” he huffed in annoyance, rubbing a hand over his face to scratch his beard, “I saw it all mangled and thought… I thought that thing had got you.”

You felt like you were trying to swallow down a lump of barbed wire, leaving your throat sore, and tight and scratchy, “It was deer blood. Last night… Nancy said she saw a dying dear.”

Releasing a deep sigh, Hopper tipped the brim of his hat back a little, eyes darting to his mirror where he watched the group of kids sit silently in the backseat before he turned off toward the Byers house.

“What’s wrong, kid? Normally by now you’d of cursed me out at least three times and threatened to roll out of the car.” Hopper tried to joke, but his tone still felt too heavy. He still felt too guilty.

You were silent for a moment, watching the headlights illuminate the driveway,

“Did I kill him?”

Now it was Hopper’s turn to remain silent as he processed your question, unsure of how to mollify you, or if he even could. The silence continued as the house came into view, and you barely took note of the door opening, Joyce, Jonathan, and Nancy all dashing out onto the porch.

Killing the engine, Hopper placed an arm over the back of your seat, turning toward the kids, “Go see Joyce. We’ll be out in a minute.”

You felt the group's eyes on you as they were all ushered out, and whether their expressions were filled with pity or fear, you really couldn’t tell at that moment. You watched as Nancy embraced her brother awkwardly, the rest of the group hanging around for yourself and Hopper to vacate the vehicle.

Unbuckling his seat belt, Hopper finally turned to you, and the look in his eyes alone told you all you needed to know.

“He was going to kill all of you. He was gonna kill a bunch of innocent kids. So if you ask me, you did the world a favor-”

Turning toward the man, he finally saw your eyes, red and brimming with tears that were threatening to fall, “did I kill him, Hopper? Yes or no.”

“Kid-”

“Hopper…”

“He was a bad guy, alright? He-”

“Please, Hopper. Please.”

The crack in your voice halted any more of his attempts to comfort you. If he didn’t say it, maybe you wouldn’t believe it. Maybe you’d never know, and then maybe you’d be okay. But staring into your crest-fallen eyes as you practically begged him for the truth, hands shaking in your lap as your fingers tugged at the sleeves of your jacket, he knew he couldn’t lie to you. You already knew the answer.

Gripping the steering wheel so tight that the skin stretching over his knuckles paled and the rubber underneath them creaked, threatening to break, he finally answered,

“Yes.”

You were unable to hold in the sob as it forced its way past your lips, chin wobbling as the dam finally broke and tears began to almost pour down your cheeks.

“But listen, kid, and I know that’s not your forte, but listen, alright?” Hopper unbuckled your belt and turned you, his large hands settling at the top of your shoulders and squeezing reassuringly, an attempt to ground you, to pull you back and realize that you weren’t alone. He was here,

“That guy was a dead man walking. Because if you hadn’t done what you did, he’d have killed those kids out there, and yourself. And then I would’ve killed him.”

Your eyes darted towards the group of children that Joyce had begun to usher into the house, a protective arm around them as only a mother would. You caught the little girl’s eyes once more, wide and worried but fixed on you.

Your attention was pulled back toward Hopper as he continued, “You killed a bad guy. And only the good guys, kill bad guys, alright? By doing what you did… You saved five lives. And that is what is important. That is what you need to focus on because right now… I need your help to save one more.”

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x you #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut

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gabessquishytum · 11 months

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Hiiii warprize anon here! Glad to see people are still warprizing hob, I think it’s good for him. Truly, anons, you are doing glorious work with that AU.

I wanted to write dark obsessive dream next in all his dubcon glory next but no one cooperated? Have some less porny character introspection instead ig…

It’s amazing how little it takes for a grown man to become used to being a pet. As weeks stretch into months, Hob revels, just a little. In the lustful linger of eyes on his body. In the quirk of that cruel mouth when Hob pleases the king. The eager stirring of his cock even before he eats aphrodisiacs. Even his punishments—even the hot lash of the whip—begins to feel like sacrilegious worship. Gasping for breath, holding his thighs spread as the king buries himself in his body certainly is. In the blackest and most honest hours of the night, Hob knows the truth. He is starting to like it.

That’s the danger of the king’s service.

Hour by orgasmic hour, the king is twisting himself into Hob’s mind and body like a key carving out its own lock. He demands Hob’s submission, his pleasure and his desire for his own. But how many people had the king had in such a way? How many prizes have knelt, and learned to live at his pleasure? And where are they now? Abandoned surely, replaced. Hob is the chalice the king sips from now but he is one of dozens, maybe even hundreds. The king might have taken a prize from every battle won.

Hob is…not special.

He kneels on his cushion, waiting for the king who has stepped from the throne room, and reminds himself.

Footsteps approach and stop just behind him. Always, when the king is away, a guard is assigned to keep a close eye for Hob’s protection, though none are allowed to take his chains in their grip. Not unless Hob runs. Daring, the guard plucks at the chain between his nipples until it swings against Hob’s chest. He holds his breath.

“How’s it going?” A voice drawls. “Knees a little tired?”

Hob glances at the door for the absent king before raising his head. The guard above him smirks like he knows a joke and Hob is the punchline.

“Yes, rather,” Hob replies. “Even with the cushion.”

“His majesty seems to like that,” he muses.

Corinthian. That is his name. He’d heard the king give him orders with iron in his voice. The way one talked to a guard dog who wasn’t trusted. A creature who couldn’t be taught to fear the whip.

“You’d know better than me.” Hob meets his eye as best he can through the man’s dark glasses. He is very handsome, golden and strong. Perhaps this is the answer. Perhaps prizes who lose their luster are given other ways to serve.

Corinthian tilts his head. Hob feels his eyes trace down the marks the king left. Lurid love bites at his throat and faint fingertip bruises on his hips. “I really don’t. Suppose I’m not his type.”

“Surely you’ve seen the others then.” Hob replies. He keeps his hands folded where they’re bound at the small of his back.

“Other … prizes?” Corinthian’s grin only grows. “Sweetheart, no. You’re the first.”

Hon stares but senses no lie. “Can’t be.“

“Picking a prize always been his right but he’s never felt the need to use it until now. Until you.” The man leans closer, dangerously into his space. Hob feels him breathing, he’s so close. “I’ve heard the sounds he pulls from you at night. He must have years of pent up energy.”

Hob’s throat is dry. Something fragile, winged and stupid flutters in his chest. But before he has to think of a reply, Corinthian snaps back to a respectful distance an instant before the doors swing open, and the king sweeps in. He climbs the stairs, slinks back to claim his throne. Hob is still reeling when his cool hand finds his chin and tilts his head up.

“You did not move,” the king says. It is not a question but an expectation.

Hob shakes his head. For a long moment his eyes glitter down on him, simply watching. Then fingers card through his hair and he is guided to rest his head against his king’s knee.

Lying face down on the floor after reading this tbh. Like. What can I say? What can I add?

Knowing that he's the only one is a further kind of beautiful torture for Hob, because once again he's asking himself over and over again: why? Why him, above anyone else? There's a part of him in agony over his imprisonment, the curtailing of his freedoms, the fact that his mind and body are no longer his own. Then there's the part of him who wants to know why, so he can be good. He needs to know how he can keep the favour that he has miraculously obtained.

And Dream? He never gives answers. If Hob even dared to ask more than a small, sobbed "why me?" in the midst of some blissful torture, Dream wouldn't bother to answer. Hob thinks that the king likes him kept ignorant and confused. It's another way to keep him in line. He's always dancing on a knife's edge, wondering whether the king will eventually toss him aside - never knowing if he's truly safe.

So he'd better be as good as he can. Never give Dream a reason to throw him away. But he will slip up eventually - its only a matter of time...

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #warprize hob

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ystrike1 · 2 years

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What's Wrong With Being the Villainess? - By Min Dohyang (7/10)

It's that time again! It's time for a yandere honorable mention, and the art this time is fantastic. Sadly the yandere character(s?) are side characters, but they bring the drama. The actual main romance is meh at best but the protagonist is very fun. Isn't that confusing? It is but it is what it is. This embraces how dumb it is. The cougars name is Cookie.

Doohee is a pushover. She dies knowing that her boyfriend used her as an ATM, and he never even thought of himself as her boyfriend. Doohee is weak to handsome faces. She's nice but easy to bully because she seems fake nice. She wanted to learn how to be selfish, because she was tired of constantly looking for approval. She was a good student, but she never took care of herself.

Deborah Seymour is an idiot. A vain one. She is the opposite of Doohee. She was born with money and influence, but no brains. She cannot use magic, even though she is the from the best magician family. She adores her pretty face because it is all she has. People suck up to her, but nobody likes her. The man she loved knew she was trash from a good family. The black sheep, so he rejected her publicly. Deborah is madly jealous of her own siblings and she hits people for fun.

A very confused Korean Doohee wakes up in her body.

Her own father hates her, for good reason. Deborah was a manipulative bitch who didn't love her family. Doohee decides to live...as a Villainess. She sucks up to her dad, but she ignores all men. She avoids parties. She never brings up the guy she liked again. A bunch of misunderstandings lead to a happy ending? Kinda. Gorgias Seymour forgives his daughter after a few painful months. Why? Well, he's a dad and he just wanted his daughter to love him. His children are very competitive and special. He supports them and such, but he doesn't have a loving relationship with them. He has four children. The fourth killed his loving wife during childbirth. He was totally obsessed with his wife, and he hated Deborah because she is a bitch...with his wife's exact face. We're in an R18 erotica novel by the way. Gorgias is just a side character, but he's ok. After his wife died he just became distant. He's not some monster that mindlessly hates his kids.

New Debbie takes advantage of this, because she wants to run.

There's a special character in the novel. The mage who runs the illegal magic/trading shop. New Debbie wants to buy a Baron title...so she can stay single. Yup. Strong independent woman ending here we come.

The yandere, Belas, is Debbie's brother. The heroine of the novel hasn't appeared yet, but he's extreme. Debbie wants to get away from the Seymour House before her brother finds his destined lover.

Oops.

Sorry.

I meant brothers.

Debbie has two insane brothers who are definitely sadistic yanderes. One hasn't even appeared yet. The eldest one. He feels like a final boss. I don't really know where the author is going with this??? The brothers kind of feel redeemable. They haven't kidnapped the Saintess yet....but they aren't nice.

None of the men in this are very nice, and Debbie doesn't like any of them. This is a spiritual magician named Pilaf. He's scary and I thought he was a yandere too, but he's flighty. As soon as Debbie shows up looking prettier than usual he gets distracted...but...uh...he is the type of guy that likes to kill people to impress his woman. He acts really hammy and charming, but behind closed doors he sheds alot of blood to bring gifts to Saintess Mia. Things will get really...covered in bloody presents if his affections turn to poor Debbie.

Sigh.

I hate this.

I do not like it when the sleepy looking attractive guy transforms into a generic prince. This is Isidore. He is secretly running the secret magic shop. He was secretly one of the main characters all along???? Gasp. Anyway I loved his original disguise and I feel cheated. Isidore seems to respect Debbie as a person and I'm sure they'll be a nice couple.

Saintess Mia may need to be saved from her yandere harem. Pilaf is flighty, violent and untrustworthy. The Seymour twins want her in their basement. Isidore no longer cares about her so that's good, but there are a few more wild cards in the mix. None of these men are normal. Saintess Mia is from a fallen noble family. Her magic makes her special, but money is important. If she's not careful she could end up in an awful marriage.

Debbie is gathering ten million gold just so she doesn't have to marry, because she knows how toxic the dating pool is.

It's also very likely that Saintess Mia seduced alot of men in the original book...in order to find a stable life. Not totally for sexy reasons. Yeah. Ok. Understandable. She also hates acting stupid and cute for Pilaf.

I have more bad news. Debbie is a magical and financial genius because reasons. I thought the gag premise was good. It mostly worked. Doohee genuinely wanted to be selfish and it was kinda working for her. Now she's just another generic perfect girlboss. With an equally generic prince. Sad.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon #otome isekai #isekai #What's Wrong With Being the Villainess?

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captainsophiestark · 2 years

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Better Than Revenge

Rebekah Mikaelson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2022!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Prompt: “Yes. No. I don’t know.”

Summary: Y/N has become the town's supernatural doctor, against their will. They've formed a fairly good bond with the Mikaelsons, despite being human, and it didn't take them long to fall in love with Rebekah, although they haven't admitted that to her.When Rebekah's on the war path against the Mystic Falls gang, however, it might just be time to admit those feelings and see where things take them.

Word Count: 2,317

Category: Angst, Fluff

A/N: This absolutely doesn't follow the timeline of TVD correctly, largely because I misremembered the details of the seasons and didn't double-check until this fic was almost done. Just pretend the one where Elena stabs Rebekah in the back before the dance is the same one as when Rebekah runs Elena and Matt off the road, all with Klaus alive and in his own body.

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed as I headed up the familiar stairs of the Mikaelson Mansion, home to five terrifying Original vampires in none other than Mystic Falls, Virginia. I'd been roped into the vampire drama fairly early since I worked an internship with the medical examiner and I couldn't just ignore all the suspicious deaths and disappearances. From there, I'd actually managed to form a peace with most of the supernaturals in town, functioning as a sort of secret doctor for all the various witches, wizards, and werewolves running around.

Honestly, I would've been happy just to stay out of it. But when the Mikaelsons rolled into town, hell broke loose all over again, and I got roped into helping them along with every other supernatural creature in town.

If I was being honest with myself, I didn't mind the Mikaelsons all that much, especially in comparison. Elijah was always very polite and we'd become fairly good friends, Kol and I shared a love for the same type of music, and Finn was just happy to have someone to gush to about Sage. Klaus and I had taken a little longer to gel, but we'd finally managed to form our own weird friendship too, and he regularly came to the rescue if somebody in town decided they wanted to use me as leverage.

And then there was Rebekah. Gorgeous, strong, secretly soft and kind Rebekah. I'd fallen pretty hard for her from the first moment I saw her, and at this point I was just proud of myself for being able to form a normal, calm friendship with her without totally freaking out. Out of all of them, Mikaelsons and Mystic Falls gang and everyone in between, she seemed the least happy to be caught up in all this stuff, too, although she probably wouldn't admit it.

She'd been planning to go to the high school dance with some of the Mystic Falls kids, and I'd wanted to go with her so badly I could hardly stand it. But she was going with Stefan, and they seemed intent on rekindling some something or other from their past. It seemed like a terrible idea to me, but if it made her happy, I wasn't going to get in the way of it.

So, instead of going to the dance with my crush (even though I'd definitely outgrown high school), I'd stayed home. I fell asleep early, only to get woken up in the middle of the night by my phone screeching at me, Klaus' unique ringtone blasting through my room. He needed me immediately, ASAP, emergency, he'd said. I groaned and muttered some incoherent curses, but got moving nonetheless.

Now I was trudging up the gravel path towards their house, trying to stay awake and alert for whatever I might find inside. You really never knew in situations like this.

Just as I reached the porch and was about to knock on the door, it went flying open, and I found Rebekah storming out, a furious expression on her face. If it hadn't been for her superspeed she probably would've crashed right into me and taken us both to the ground.

"Whoa!" I said, taking a half-step back in surprise. "Bex, holy shit, you scared me!"

"Y/N? I'm sorry, I didn't- what are you doing here?"

"Your brother called me," I huffed. She gave me a knowing look as I crossed my arms, then looked her up and down. "What are you doing, storming out of here like this? Shouldn't you be at the dance?"

Her expression darkened, and I frowned. She'd been burned by the Mystic Falls Scooby Gang before, and I just hoped this wasn't another repeat.

"I never went to the dance," she said, fury rippling off of her in waves. "Elena quite literally stabbed me in the back with a dagger when I was over at her house, getting ready with her. So now, I'm going to make her regret every choice she's ever made that led her to this point."

With that, Rebekah started marching past me again, but I caught her arm as she went. She stopped, even though she easily could've ripped her arm out of my grip, and stared at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Bex... Can we talk for a second?" I sighed, dropping her arm and running a hand through my hair.

"Sorry love, but time is of the essence tonight." She started walking away again, and I stared after her as I debated how involved and honest I wanted to get with this. Knowing the Mikaelsons, however, I couldn't ignore the fact that inaction on my part would probably result in at least one person being killed. Despite how badly I didn't want to admit my feelings to Rebekah, I couldn't let that happen.

No matter how much the damn Mystic Falls kids had brought it on themselves.

"Rebekah, stop. You know you're not mad at the actual backstabbing, right?"

Rebekah whirled around at that, hands on her hips and eyebrows raised as she stared at me.

"I'm not? Why on Earth, please tell me, wouldn't I be mad about that?"

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose, then looked back at her.

"All you've really wanted since the day I met you, Bex, was to have a fun, happy, human experience. I'm not you so I guess I can't really say, but if I had to bet? I'd say not getting to make some high school friends and go to the dance and have that experience is something you're more upset about than anything else."

Rebekah frowned and looked away from me, staring at the ground for a few, long moments. I gave her a second, then crossed the yard to stand in front of her. She glanced back at me and I could tell she was barely holding it together.

"Why does it feel like you know me better than my own brothers, sometimes?" she managed. We shared a small laugh, and throwing caution to the wind, I took her hand in mine. She didn't pull away.

"Bex... I'm sorry, but I have to ask... do you really think the best way to get what you want–that happy, human experience, with or without the Mystic Falls kids—is by going after and maybe even killing some of them?"

Rebekah didn't respond right away. She'd gone back to staring at the ground, but then she met my eyes again, mascara starting to run down her cheeks at last as some of the emotions she'd been trying to hold back broke through.

"Yes. No. I don't know." She laughed at herself and shook her head, then continued. "But one way or the other, I know I can't let them get away with this. I'm a Mikaelson. I need to remind them of it."

"I hear you, Bex," I said, taking a deep breath as I started rubbing soothing circles over the back of her hand with my thumb. "And I've heard your brothers saying the same things about a million times. But can I maybe offer an alternative solution?"

Rebekah frowned, curious, and nodded. I swallowed, trying to brace myself to really take this leap. There would be no going back, especially if it turned out she didn't feel the same way I did. But I cared about her, and I'd never forgive myself if I stayed silent now.

"Maybe... would you want to leave? With me?" Rebekah's eyebrows shot up, although she didn't pull her hand out of mine. I still found myself looking at anything but her. "I just... I've been wanting to leave Mystic Falls for a while, and live somewhere else or travel or... or anything, really. And I couldn't think of anyone else I'd rather do it with, if you wanted to come with me. You know, escape all this revenge and drama shit. Just, like... go live those peaceful, semi-human lives together, for as long as we want to or can."

Rebekah didn't respond for a few long moments, and I swear I was on the verge of a heart attack for every one of them. When I finally forced myself to look at her again, I found her eyes wide and hopeful as she stared at me.

"You'd really do that for me?" she finally breathed. She squeezed my hand a little tighter, and I wasted no time grabbing her other hand in mine as well.

"Rebekah... absolutely I would. I've been wanting to leave anyway pretty much since the Salvatores showed back up, and... I honestly can't imagine anyone else I'd rather go with." I muttered the last part, almost under my breath, but thanks to Rebekah's vampire hearing, she caught it anyway.

"I feel the same way," she breathed. I smiled up at her, not quite able to believe this was real, and before I knew what was happening, she tugged me closer to her and wrapped her arms around my waist. I brushed a stray hair out of her face and wiped a bit of the mascara away, smiling at her brightly.

"That's good to hear. You Mikealsons are usually so forward I'd kind of given up hope that you liked me back."

Rebekah scoffed. "Just because my brother's been throwing himself at Caroline doesn't mean we all behave that way."

"Fair enough," I laughed, then closed the rest of the distance between us for a soft, sweet kiss. I swear fireworks exploded between us, and a warmth like the sun expanded in my chest, even as we broke apart.

"So..." she said, smiling softly at me. "Should we leave now?"

"I wish I could say 'hell yes' and we could steal your brother's car and start an adventure together, but I need like ten minutes to touch base with Klaus," I said, taking a few steps backwards to the house. "He called me here for some stupid emergency or something and if I don't check in he'll probably make it his new life's mission to hunt me down or some stupid shit like that."

"He does do that, doesn't he?" she asked, smiling after me. I shot her a look, then turned and jogged back into the house. Rebekah called after me, "I'll gather some clothes and other essentials we might need, then meet you in the foyer."

I shot her a thumbs up without turning around as I reached the door, then took the stairs two at a time. I got to the second floor and quickly found Klaus' study, where he sat in a chair with his back to the door, brooding over something or other.

"Hey," I said, only slightly out of breath. "What did you need?"

"It can wait," he said, finally turning in his chair at last. I glared at him, Original Vampire be damned.

"You woke me up in the middle of the night for an emergency and now it can wait?"

He shrugged. "When I woke you up in the middle of the night, it was before you were planning to run away with my sister."

I sighed. "You people and your superhearing, damn. You really have no respect for privacy, do you?"

"No, I don't. Not when it comes to her," he said, standing slowly from his chair. I blinked, and then he was in front of me, hand on my throat as he slammed me into the nearest wall. I gasped, trying not to completely panic as Klaus stared me down, black veins under his eyes. "If you hurt her, believe me, it will be the last thing you ever do."

"I'm trying to keep her from getting hurt!" I managed to choke out. Klaus glared at me for another moment, then released me and stepped back. "Geeze!"

"Rebekah has been through a thousand years of hell, sometimes at my own hands," he said calmly, like nothing had ever happened. "She deserves some happiness."

"I couldn't agree more," I said, rubbing at my throat a bit as I straightened and looked at Klaus again. "I'll take good care of her. You have my word."

He huffed, his eyes flashing as he stared me down. "You might just be the only human whose word has any value. Do try to visit from time to time, won't you?"

"We will. Just try not to get in the middle of so much drama we don't want to come back, alright?"

Klaus scowled at me, but I just raised an eyebrow back at him in challenge. After a moment, he sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Get out of here before I change my mind."

I grinned and saluted, then headed back downstairs with a bounce in my step. I found Rebekah waiting for me, a few bags around her feet and a smile on her face.

"I hope he didn't give you too much trouble," she said. I waved her off.

"Nothing I can't handle. You ready?"

"Darling, I've never been more ready for anything in my life."

We shared a smile as I took her hand, each of us grabbing a few of the bags and then heading out the door together. I had no idea where our new adventure would take us next, but I couldn't wait, for whatever might come. With Rebekah by my side and the world at our feet, the possibilities were endless.

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langdhon · 8 months

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THINGS YOUR MUSE WILL NOTICE ABOUT MINE. repost , do not reblog.

WHAT THEY LOOK LIKE . 5'11" tall and slim built, toned. Rosy skin tone and strawberry blond, wavy hair that he always keeps at upper back length. He rejects the striking resemblance with Tate he has when his hair is cut short and, due to that, curly. Strong jawline, hooded eyes, plump lips, his face is also almost symmetrical. He enhances his piercing blue eyes with that signature eyeshadow he always wears, red being a perfect contrast to bring out the blue even more. While four or five (verse dependent) rings adorn his fingers, Michael doesn't wear any other jewelry. The only accessoire you'll frequently see on him is a silk scarf, either black or red; speaking of which, you won't see him wear any other colors. If we talk makeup, he also uses eyebrow pencil to give them a little more shape, otherwise the blond brows would go under. He tends to don elegant attire that comes with a gothic touch, though never too scene-like, so you're left guessing whether he's one of those people or just happens to dress similar to them. You won't see him wear sneakers or sandals ever. Usually boots, ankle boots or horseman's boots in slightly varying styles. However, he defies cliches with details about his appearance and wants to catch the attention when he enters a room. Also noteworthy, he simpers/smiles a lot because even if there's no explicit reason for him to be delighted, this way you still can guess he's got some mischief on his mind that entertains himself alone. And others around are left wondering what type of person he is; super stern or a little shit? The answer is: both.

WHAT THEY SMELL LIKE . musky but sweet, because he prefers sweet scents overall, none as penetrating as the aftershave a lot of men seem to bathe in. If you know what I mean. He uses perfume, mostly unisex fragrances and with preference for fruity rather than flowery, although vanilla is his weakness and it'll likely be in the mix. Sometimes he'll smell a touch of fresh blood, depending on the situation you catch him in, or leather if he got himself a new fancy leather coat. If you're a witch, for example, who can smell souls like Misty Day can... he'll reek of death and decay. It's up to how your own soul is coded whether you like this or not.

WHAT THEY TASTE LIKE . I don't know what humans taste like in the sensual sense, but since he has a thorough skincare routine which includes body oils after a bath or lotions, he's likely to taste sweet? His breath/mouth will taste either minty, or of whatever he just ate/drank.

WHAT THEY SOUND LIKE . Michael doesn't have a deep voice, neither is it uncomfortably high-pitched. Usually his tone of voice is on the softer side, velvety as I like to describe it more often than not; as if he's trying to coax you into doing something with every word. Even if he's talking about completely trivial things. Depending on his mood or the topic, there's also a wee lilt of amusement swinging along. His laughter sounds boyish, definitely less soft than his speaking tone and a tad deeper. But if you don't know him? You'll likely think it's mockery when he laughs, that he laughs at you specifically, although this might not even be the case. He rarely yells. When he does, though, the softness is all gone from his voice; self-explanatory. Idk if it's noteworthy, but Michael should never sing because he would keep missing tones and if he'd sing very loudly, his voice would likely crack sinde he has 0 exercise. Whenever he gets nervous or irritated, he'll tend to stammer. So when he tries to uphold a confident mask during a moment causing him stress, his speech will likely rat him out. In moments where his demonic side flickers through (black eyes, bone white skin etc), his voice will sound doubled with the second being much deeper. There'll also be an echo, no matter how big or small the room is; unnatural. That happens seldom, though, and shouldn't be the first thing anyone notices when meeting him.

WHAT THEY FEEL LIKE . his body temperature is higher by default, almost feverish. So yes, his touch feels extremely warm, feverish. He has overall super soft skin, his hair is described in canon literally as feeling like silk, too. You see his hands, feel them, and just know he's never bent a finger for any hard work. He heals from injuries, so you won't feel any scarring either on him. If we talk what he feels like as in his presence as such? You'll either feel drawn to him because to your deepest core he represents the key to all things you always wanted but never dared to even mention, or you'll feel highly uncomfortable around him because his presence tells your primal instincts he's danger. Of course neither has to apply, it really depends on the person, because his presence can as well feel like that of someone you might know from somewhere but can't pinpoint where from. People who befriended him, people he actually loves and who love him, tend to feel safe by merely being near him. He can keep you safe, after all, and something deep within knows that once you're close with him. But he can also demolish you at any moment.

tagged by : @viiolencia ♥ tagging: @anthrcpophagi @butscrewmefirst @colorsdevoid @desiredprince @eyeless-smiles @fallenregent @hecatespower @hybrid-royalty @hiveruled @monstriiss @malka-lisitsa @multi-royalty @pohlepen @pumpcursed @ravenskeeper @ruinedmyself @traumapyre @untilthcyrot @zealctry

#⛧ 𝘽𝙇𝘼𝙎𝙋𝙃𝙀𝙈𝙊𝙐𝙎 𝙍𝙐𝙈𝙊𝙍𝙎 // study.#this was fun

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bluelangel · 2 years

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hi! this is the first time i write for daryl and the first time for tumblr as well. i dont really know how to use this app but im gonna find out!! i hope you like it, i don't write anything in ages so sorry if this is shitty. also, English it's not my first language so it may have mistakes in this, sorry.

-> warnings: smut, p in v smut, some praising kink? idk. virgin reader, female reader, light dom daryl.

-> notes: hes so hot pls rail me

You and Daryl were together since de start. Not romantically together, unfortunately, but surviving together. He and Merle found you living inside of a abandoned car, you were living there for three days and were glad they found you because you were running out of water and food.

So you joined them, for Merle dismay. He didn't seem to like you very much, said you weren't their responsibility, a burden, that's what you were to him, always calling you a cry baby or whining or stupid or helpless. Daryl didn't said any of those things about you, but he never stopped Merle from been a asshole either.

One time on the road, you fall while trying to kill a walker. Merle and Daryl had caught four of them and you thought you could at least put one down. Wrong, the dead beast har hard to kill, which caused you to fall and with it on top of you, trying to eat your face, you put your hands on its chest so he wouldn't bite your face off. You screamed for Merle's help since he was the one closer to you, but he just looked at you and scoffed. Then you felt the dead thing weight leave your body and were finally able to breathe again. Daryl looked at you after sinking his knife into the walker's head.

"What did I tell ya, girl? Stay behind me! Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"Sorry" you said, and then the three of you were back in the road again.

After some days you found Shane and his group, Daryl didn't trusted none of them, that's why he told not to go on runs or be alone with those people. You, on the other hand, really liked them, and by the time you've grow fond of them all.

That brought all of you to the prison, not all of you though, a lot of your people couldn't make it.

The prison never had so much people, Woodbury citizens were living with you now after the fight with the governor.

You were talking to Gary, one of the Woodbury people, he was around your age and really pretty, didn't make yoyr type though, you've always liked older men better. But Gary was fun and turned out to be a good friend.

You felt a arm around your shoulder and didn't need to look up to know who it was. His strong men scent did the job. He couldn't see you next to a man that he was by your side in a instant. He said he didn't trusted this guys around you, that they were looking for a pretty young girl to fool around and them leave, and you didn't deserve that, his words.

"Get lost, boy" he grows. Rude. Gary try to say something but Daryl grows again and he disappears.

"That was rude" you said.

"He should be doing his damn job not be here hitting on you." He took two plates laying on the table and start putting some dry meat and cooked eggs. He beckoned you to sit and you did, then he put the plate in front of you on the table and said: "Eat." Then go back putting him some food and sitting next you. "What were you two talking about?" He shoved some eggs in his mouth.

"Nothing important. He just wanted to take a walk with me and watch the sun go down." You ate some of the eggs and take a bite of the dry meat. You were actually excited for this, in your 24 years of life you've never had a date before, nor a boyfriend, and even though this wasn't what you thought your first date would be, you wanted to enjoy a simple thing as this. Maybe this was the day you would finally lose your virginity.

He scoffed but didn't say no more.

You waited for Gary to show up, but he didn't. So you get up from the bench and started walking to your cell, the sun already down.

"So how was it?" Maggie said, coming your way, she looked excited to know all about.

"It wasn't." You just wanted to go to bed and sleep. Maggie followed you till you both were inside the cell, sitting on your bed.

"Oh, sweetie, did he said something?" She touched your face.

"He didn't even show up, Maggie! What a asshole! Daryl was right, this boys sucks." You sighed, crossing your arms. Maggie looked at you almost like she knew something. "You know what? I will confront him tomorrow. Yeah. I mean, he was the one that asked me out, he should at least show up before dumping me right?"

And that's what you did. Next morning you found him by the fences taking down the dead and went to him.

"So, why ask me out if you aren't gonna come? Just to make a fool out of me?" You were angry at him, how could he do that?

"I don't have time right now." He kept sticking the steel bar on to the walkers skull, he didn't even spare you a glance.

It was so humiliating, waiting for him there alone, people waking by and looking at you.

"I really thought you were a nice guy, you know?" He stopped what he was doing and looked past your shoulder, you followed his eyes and found Daryl looking back.

"And I really think you're nice and really pretty, but anytime you're close that guy is there, watching like a hound dog." He looked at you this time.

"Did Daryl told you something?" You looked him down, waiting his answer.

"He told me to fuck off and leave you alone, and even though you're pretty, you're not worth being beat up." He then go back doing his job, the sound of the walkers' skulls breaking ringing in to your ears.

That night you heard a knock at the cell door. You knew who it was, but you didn't want see him, not now. He opened the door and entered, not waiting for your permission.

"What do you want, Daryl?" You were lying on your side, hands under your head.

"Wanted to talk to you. To say I'm sorry." You then sat on the bed, watching and waiting for him to finish. "I didn't wanted you dating him. He don't deserve you."

"You make no sense, Daryl" you simply said.

"Telling you that I don't want you dating him doesn't make sense?" He came closer, looking straight to you in the dark room.

"Yes, you don't make any sense." You got up and walked to him. "You treat me like I am yours to take care, but I'm not really yours. You don't want anyone to date me, but you don't want me either. You act like a protective boyfriend but you are not my boyfriend! You don't no one to have me but you won't have me! Yes, you make no sense at all."

He looked right to your eyes, his tongue getting out to wet his pinky lips, his chest rising and falling every time he took a long breath.

"Who said I don't want you?" His fingers tangled with your hair while his mouth came to find yours.

You never thought he would be this gentle, his left hand caressing your cheek while his tongue danced with yours. His lips felt like heaven and his tongue felt like paradise. He roared into your mouth when he heard you whining and broke the kiss.

"Still think I don't want ya?" His finger dragged a line to your lips to your chin. "I dont want you with anyone else because you're mine, baby."

You didn't need anymore explanations, you threw yourself into his arms, your arms around his neck. Daryl's hands flew to your ass, rubbing your covered pussy at his crotch, which make you moan against him.

"Please, Darrie." His fingers tangled and tugged at your hair until your mouths parted and you were staring at him with lust in your eyes. "I want you." You whine.

"You want my cock, sweetheart? Is that it?" You nodded. You were more than ready for this, your cunt dripping since he fir kissed you. "Want me to fuck you?" You squirmed as you heard those dirty words coming out of his mouth.

You never wanted a man like you want him, you just wanted him to fuck you hard and rough till you pass out. And all though you were a virgin, you had this fire inside you, ready to explode.

He dragged you to your bed and started taking your clothes off til you were naked in front of him. It was dark and the only thing illuminating the room was a candle, but you could see him perfectly. His beautiful eyes staring at your naked body like a animal ready to attack its prey.

"This is all mine" he grows, lying on top of you. "This pussy is mine." His fingers traveled to your private area, dragging circles on you clit. "This tits are mine." His mouth taking your breast and sucking on it.

You were over the moon, you couldn't even talk, just moan and tug at his hair. His fingers working on your sensitive bud until you were panting, he then put a finger inside your wet pussy, making you squirm and scream.

"Fuck, baby you are so tight. I'ma gonna have to open you up for my cock, huh? You think you can take it?" His finger circled your canal while his thumb worked on you clit. "I'ma gonna make this virgin pussy come real good." You never told Daryl you were a virgin, you didn't knew he knew. That was embarrassing. Your cheeks were hot and your eyes were shut, enjoying the most amazing thing you ever felt in your life. Till you felt like your body was boiling and was about to explode. Screams and moans came out of your mouth as you came, your breath heavy in your chest and Daryl's fingers deep in your pussy.

"That was so good, darrie." You felt relaxed, like you just get out of a hot shower.

"You want more, baby?" You nod to his question. He took his clothes off in less then ten seconds and was already on top of you, his cock touching your mound, it was heavy and thick and scared you a bit. "Relax for me, pretty girl." He took your legs and positioned on his hip, but didn't thrust at you yet. "You are the most beautiful woman I ever seen. So caring and gentle and passionate." He kissed you once again.

"I love you, Darrie." You couldn't control yourself, covering your mouth after saying.

"I love you, baby." He found his tip with the opening of your desperate cunt and pushed all his length inside you.

It was so thick it felt like was parting you in half, and it felt so good.

"Fuck, baby, you feel so good" he cursed, gis forehead touching yours.

"Ohh, God, Darrie!" you moan. "It's sooo good. Go harder please."

"You wanna me to go harder?" and he did, his hips going against yours, his huge cock coming out and coming in hard and fast inside you, making the most sinful noises you ever heard, and it turn you on so much. "I'ma gonna destroy this pussy, is that what you want?"

"Yes, God, yes!" you whimpered, on the verge of tears.

"I'ma gonna come inside this pussy. Make it mine." He roared.

"Yes, darrie. Right there, please!"

"Say you're mine, girl." He pounced hard in you, making you see stars.

"I'm yours, darrie, forever." You grabbed your tits and squeezed them.

"Fuck I'ma gonna come inside you, woman. Get you pregnant so all of them bitches know your mine."

That sent you on fire and you came, hard, with a desperate cry that Daryl has to put it down so you didn't wake the whole prison. With his left hand on mouth, his right hand under your knee, he fucked you while kneeling on the bed. Your sensitive cunt making wet noises while he indeed destroyed your pussy. You came again, felling his hot cum spurs inside you. He lowered himself and lay on top of your chest, his dick still inside you.

"Gonna make sure your pussy sucks all my cum."

And you both slept like that, tired and sticky with sweat.

Next morning you heard Rick say to Daryl: "Next time don't make so much noise, would you?"

You felt your cheeks hot and almost die of embarrassment.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl x reader #daryl smut #fanfic

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