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familyvideowithsteve · 8 months

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façade, pt. five : the morning after - steve harrington x fem!reader

This material may not be copied, reproduced, displayed, modified. This is my work, do not steal it, do not republish it.

summary: it's the morning after, everyone's waiting for what's to come.

warnings: (reading the first series is highly recommended) /NSFW/, no use of Y/n, she/her pronouns with no physical description, violence, near death experiences, blood, weapons, insecure thoughts, angst, self doubt, trust issues, jealousy, nightmares, anxiety disorders and depression (warnings for the entire series not the individual parts)

word count: ~4.3k

façade the first series | the sequel | spotify playlist | pt. six

Opening up her eyes, blinking a few times as she woke up from a deep sleep, she immediately felt some weight on the side of her body, and when she tilted her head, she saw a hand resting on the outside of her right thigh.

Steve’s arm was sleepily laid across her thigh and she instantly felt this pressure creeping itself on her stomach as soon as she opened her eyes, turning her head and saw that his face was close to her shoulder, he was deep asleep, by the slow rhythm of his breath and his relaxed face, it brought a wave of melancholy through her body.

Strands of his hair resting against his angelic sleepy face, if things were different, completely different, she wouldn’t feel this deep sadness, she wouldn’t feel so heartbroken.

She’s about to annihilate their hope of becoming something together.

She feels so much shame, guilt, but all she can picture, from everything that happened to them in the last couple of days, seems to be Steve’s heart eyes for Nancy in the Upside Down as they were on their way to Victor Creel’s house, all she can picture is how they were in high-school, every interactions until they were together as a couple, every kiss in the corridors, at parties, and how perfect they were and looked.. and those heart eyes as they were marching along a suicide mission.

She doesn’t acknowledge what happened the night before with Steve, no, scratch that, she doesn’t take it seriously. Even his words, talking about staying with her everyday of his life, made her wince in discomfort, he couldn’t make a promise like that, not when Vecna was still alive, the gates were out, Max was very badly injured, when he looked at Nancy like that and overall they had no idea what was next.

The night before, in and of itself, was a mistake, it didn’t matter, nothing made any sense, nor did it matter with Vecna on the loose, ready to kill everyone and everything that ever existed.

Even worse, and she was ashamed to think like that but what she had told him was true, she was triggered by them, by the memories of them in the corridors, she didn’t have any feelings for Steve then but the heart eyes they gave each other in the Upside Down, accompanied by a lot of mixed feelings led her to believe that she didn’t deserve Steve, that she wasn’t worthy of him.

She will never be. She needs to rip the bandaid off and she needs to do it quickly.

Her eyes drifted from his face to the ceiling, she started to feel some nausea, the taste of bile in the back of her mouth, and gently, she pulled his arm away, and tried her hardest to not wake him up as she escaped to the main bathroom, upstairs, closed the room shut and let out the remnants of her stomach, followed by bile.

The cold tiles against her legs gave her goosebumps, she started noticing her heart’s palpitations, she could physically feel it beat fast against her ribcage; then the shortness of breath came on.

“No..” she whined, more like cried.

Without even realising she was having a panic attack. Having completely laid down on the tiles, her forehead on the floor, hoping the difference of temperature would ‘shock’ her out of it, but it didn’t work, it just painfully passed, her fingers were pressing so tightly into the palm of her hands her nails had left bloody nail marks.

Tears she had not noticed and could not control were rolling down, erratic breaths escaping her lips, her eyes screwed shut, frowned her eyebrows in discomfort, pain.

And when it was finally over, she slowly laid her back against the bathtub wall, trying to steady her her breathing, everytime she closed her eyes she was back in the Upside Down, with its thick toxic atmosphere, its monsters lurking in the darkness, silently, this terror living in her stomach, feeling so disoriented and lost.

The smallest bit of pain from her side reminded her of the violence she had to face in there, how the Upside Down’s not merciful. She forced herself to open her eyes, facing the door, closed, drying out her tears, taking a deep breath, hunched up as much as she could.

Closing her eyes one last time to force herself to take a deep breath, even if she relived her solo trip down there every time.

Breathe in. . . out. . . in. . . out. . .

Dustin woke up with a start, cold sweat falling from his forehead, out of breath.

He didn't know if he was dreaming or having nightmares and if he was, he couldn’t even remember what they were about.

He had woken up with this weight on his shoulders and his chest, this darkness lurking in a corner.

His heart was beating so fast he could feel it by resting a hand on his chest, trying to catch his breath.

It's like he was back there again.

He was cold, freezing, he hadn’t even realised that his hands were slightly shaking, but holding onto Eddie so hard his knuckles turned white.

As if he were still there again, he could smell Eddie's blood, and all he could see was blood, cherry red, and it was everywhere. It felt cold on his fingers, the tears falling on his hands felt like red-hot water.

His last breath left his lips, his eyes still open.

Glassy, the pupils were almost covered by a thin layer, clouding his honey brown irises.

Then the guilt, the shame.

Even if he remembers that she managed to bring Eddie back, and that he's alive, he can't stop but blame it on himself, how he got hurt, died for minutes, sacrificed himself to stall some more time.

He tried so hard to ground himself, trying to ease the panic, but it didn’t work the way he hoped.

By pushing the anxiety away he only welcomed it back more.

Soon, he was hyperventilating, his heart beating erratically, he could feel his thoughts spiralling, tying knots, betraying himself, silently crying to not alert his mother, who was worried enough for him.

He was alone.

Nancy and her mom had talked together about doing donations for the families in need, who had taken refuge in both the gymnasium of Hawkins High and Middle School.

When she had asked if Steve and her wanted to participate she said yes, which led her to go through some of her old clothes and toys in her parents’ garage while Steve was driving to his own house.

Eddie was better, he had tried to stand and walk, even if it was still a bit painful, he could walk around the house, he still had to stay at hers’, his status of a fugitive wouldn’t be that easy to get rid of, even when –or if– they manage to stop Vecna at whatever he’s prepared for next.

Steve immediately sensed the mood change with her, she was closed off, stuck in her thoughts a lot.

He had hoped so hard that they were on better terms, not because they had slept together, he knew better, no, it was merely a distraction for him, but because she had started to open up, was less closed off to him, and he keeps wondering over and over again if he had said, or done anything to upset her.

He has no idea.

And then, mindlessly parking next to his house as he was trying to go through the events of the night before, he remembers what she told him. The jealousy, the emptiness and the extreme uncertainty she feels… and he doesn’t know what to do, what to say to her without sounding like an asshole that doesn’t care, he doesn’t want to dismiss her feelings and her.

He sighs, leaves his care and goes inside his house, in search of clothes, food or anything that could be useful for helping the families in need while she does the same, rummaging through boxes in her garage under Eddie’s concerned eyes.

He had also noticed how she was quiet, closed off, and couldn't understand her behaviour. And as she was hunting down for old clothes, teddy bears and bedclothes, he recognized her irritation.

Weirder still, she was scavenging for things that, from what Eddie had imagined, would not be useful for donations of families in need, she now was rummaging through boxes and drawers for equipment and.. stuff?

“What are you doing?,” Eddie dared speak up, sceptical, his eyes furrowed.

She let out a breath of frustration, he thought she would stop to explain herself but in a quarter of a second she was back to going through the drawers.

Her name fell on his lips in a firm whisper, and she forfeited, turning around slowly to face him, distress evident on her face.

“Tell me what’s bugging you, and please, as you do, tell me why you’re rejecting Steve when he practically threw himself at you last night,” he gave her a puzzled look, she had hoped so badly he wouldn’t notice anything but he’s smarter than he looks, she needs to remember that.

She sighed again, stepped further so her back was against the wall, crossing her arms, “Steve and I doesn’t concern you and as for..”

“Excuse me? ‘Doesn’t concern me’”, he quoted in the air, eyes big and eyebrows “After I’ve had to play Cupid in an interdimensional version of Hell? Are you kidding?”

She completely ignored him, her tone came a little more harsher than she wanted, her eyes stuck on Eddie, “And as for what I’m doing.. It’s him. He’s opened the four gates to the Upside Down, he leaves them open but he doesn’t attack? He’s literally done what he promised he would do. It’s weird. We need to use that time to get prepared, find whatever we can to.. I don’t know… make survival backpacks? In case of extreme emergency, we need to survive an apocalypse.”

“The apocalypse?” He had this grin coming on his lips, an amused expression on his face.

“Yes, Eddie, the fucking apocalypse, Armageddon, or whatever the hell you wanna call it! He delivered us his plans on a silver platter, and it fucking happenned. He has to be preparing something, he can’t just give up. He didn’t get Max, but he did get Jason and it was perfect for him since he had turned completely psycho because of Chrissy’s death. But, he got Jason after we shot him to his near-death, then he ripped open four gates of Hell in Hawkins so he’s still around. Him, and those fucking monsters.”

Eddie’s smile fell quickly, she was right. He hadn’t really thought about it, but she was right.

The threat was very much real and very much around, he started thinking about their little trip in the Upside Down and imagining how far it all could go, he was terrified, he suddenly began to feel cold, he couldn’t be more terrified.

“I’ll help you pack some things for the donations, I obviously can’t go but when you're done, we should call a meeting, plan our next moves, or try to… You’re right, I’m sorry.”

She had scarred both him and herself, her head hung low, she wasn’t quite sure if it was desperation, frustration, sadness, fear, or all of the above but her eyes started to water.

“This isn’t going to end well, Eddie, I can feel it.. It’s..,” with a finger on her chin he made her look up softly, their eyes met, and his mind went completely blank, there’s nothing he could say to comfort because he couldn’t believe it himself.

Instead of words, he put both his arms around her shoulders and held onto her, tightly, like an unspoken promise, her hands scrunched his shirt on his back, she was also holding onto him, as she let her tears cascade down her cheeks, wetting his shirt.

They were packing Steve’s car, in front of the Wheelers’ driveway, she had managed to sneak a word to Nancy about doing a group meeting after they went to the gymnasium.

With the help of her mother, Nancy was putting away more stuff so that they could donate it, both Dustin and her were quiet, long gone in their thoughts as they were putting away the boxes in Steve's trunk, who was busy getting the boxes from Nancy, Robin next to them.

Steve had also noticed how Dustin was quieter than usual too, but he didn’t say anything, and preferred to wait until they would all meet in her house to talk about what they would do to sneak a word to Dustin, he wasn’t quiet, he was a very loud and very sarcastic kid who had lost all of that, it worried him.

Not knowing what to do or say to both her and Dustin frustrated him, he felt useless, he now stood next to the both of them, Nancy catching up with him when they heard an unfamiliar vehicle approaching.

A van? A pizza van? What?

Steve turned around fully, frowning, his shoulder involuntarily brushing on her’s, “What the-” he let out as the van parked right in front of the Wheelers’ driveway, she briefly looked at him then turned to the van.

To their surprises, Jonathan, his brother and Nancy's exited the van accompanied by a girl with shaved head and a very long haired one left the van, Dustin gasped and started to hobble towards his friends, Nancy put her box in Robin’s arms without any warning and stepped toward Jonathan. Ran, actually.

The two embraced hurriedly, a rapid kiss on the lips as they held onto each other tightly, whispering things to one another, Steve looked away, trying to not be intrusive, his eyes fell on the one he wished he could be this close with, but she had stopped looking at them. Her head hung low.

She felt his eyes on her, his shoulder was further into her, she hesitated but curiosity –and longing– got the best of her, and she looked up. Some of his worry went away when she didn’t look away, but instead kept their eye contact.

Feeling braver, Steve gently offered her his hand, she briefly looked at the motion, seemed to think it through, and suddenly he awaited her rejection.. But it never came, instead she laced their fingers together, tightly, her head looking up at him again.

A weight had somehow been lifted off his shoulders, he felt relieved, maybe there was something he could save, maybe it wasn’t all over, he still held hope for them.

The parking lot was full, SUVs from the army were everywhere, along with firemen and paramedics, they had heard that Hawkins was receiving help from the neighbourhood states, many people were missing, some had lost their home and had nowhere to go.

There was something deeply unsettling about stepping in the gym, they all felt it differently, but they were on the same wavelength about one thing: they felt responsible for the people hurt, who had lost everything and they were the only ones to know how and why it happened the way it happened.

It wasn't just an earthquake, and they would realise that way too quickly, and it would be so deadly.

Steve had encouraged them to go on, as both Dustin and her had stopped by the doorways (left often to facilitate passage), they gave away the boxes, looking at one another they offered if they could be of any help.

Each had a spot in a different corner, Steve was sorting and giving clothes to the people in need, Dustin was offering water, Robin was making PB&Js’, and she was outside, with other volunteers, firemen and paramedics sorting out medical equipment donations that came from the neighbouring states.

She was gathering some unnamed boxes from a truck when she caught a glimpse of Eddie’s uncle, Wayne, stepping in the gym, she stopped in her tracks, not knowing what to say or do, she obviously couldn’t tell him the truth, nor confirm that he was missing, she wouldn’t be able to lie to him, but he also couldn’t just not know where his nephew was.

He would probably recognize her from the many nights she spent crashing at his trailer, but what exactly could she say to him. She was livid, rightfully so, she handed her box to another volunteer nearby and followed him inside.

He was pinning Eddie’s missing poster –or replacing it as people had drawn horns on his head– on a board that was already so full, unconsciously, her hands started to fidget, her fingers picking on the skin around her nails, while her gaze was on Wayne.

Dustin’s eyes fell on her as he was handing water, he followed her look and saw Wayne, he understood immediately her dilemma, he put down the platter and started hobbling towards her.. when they were all surprised with a thunderstorm.

Everyone had stopped what they were doing, an unsettling silence taking place as a second thunderstorm shot through the sky.

Everyone rushed towards the windows or outside, where they all could see some black smoke or cloud, they weren't sure, the atmosphere started to thicken already but they couldn't feel it yet.

The dark clouds –they appeared thicker than plain smoke– carried more red thunderstorms, the worse was the snow size particles –the same one from the Upside Down– falling from the dark clouds, that's when they knew it was already happening.

She rushed inside, the only one to move through the crowd outside observing the scene, she looked for and met Steve, both with a very serious face as they looked for the others and hurried back to her house.

Back at her house they waited for the others to be back, Dustin sat on the couch, next to her, his good leg wouldn't stop moving up and down in apprehension.

Rovin was the one pacing up and down, under the very stressed pair of eyes belonging to her and Steve, Eddie sat in the stairs watching the front door.

Apprehension, stress and fear radiated from all of them. They were experiencing similar thoughts, it was spiralling, their minds on neverending wheels.

Stress and anxiety crippling in, watching Robin pace up and down in her living room was like torture, her brain was playing the events from before and the what ifs. So many what ifs.

Her right leg had also started going up and down, her hands fidgeting involuntarily, from where she sat she could see the garage door open, where she had put some essentials in boxes with Eddie.

After staring at that door for what felt like eternity she suddenly stood up and went straight to the laundry room where she was scavenging for backpacks, loudly, under Steve's confused eyes.

He dared asking her what she was doing –very fair question– to which she screamed she wouldn't do this again.

Another thunderstorm and her body went frigid, she turned around, backpacks under her arms.

"We need to pack essentials–backpacks!," Steve had opened his mouth but she stopped him right there, "Listen, I want to be wrong so badly, but those dark clouds, the thunderstorms, the fucking spores coming from the sky, all of this comes from the Upside Down, which is fucking starting to spread."

She stopped to catch her breath, her eyes softened, looking right at Steve, he sensed what she meant.

"I get you. I do. But we need to wait for the others, wait for them to–"

"What if they're not coming? What if we need to move quickly? I know I'm new at.. all of this, but Steve, I have a really bad feeling about this," she ended up whispering the last bit, her concern evident on her face and in her voice.

It was her eyes, they told him something else, but he couldn't put a finger on what exactly her eyes were asking of him. He felt her concern, but what else was there?

"What if they are coming? Maybe it hasn't travelled to that part of the forest.. what I mean is.. we should wait for Nance," her name fell on his lips like a resolution, like it was a finality.

Like he took the decision for them.

It didn't sit right with her.

"So what, we're supposed to wait for them– for Nancy to make our plans when absolutely anything could happen? What if the gates opened further and waves of Demogorgons just invaded Hawkins? Are we still waiting for Nancy then?!"

Eddie stepped from the stairs and was stepping towards the living room where a corridor led to the laundry room.

His eyes met Dustin's, at this point she was talking very loudly, all of them could hear their argument.

"Are we also waiting for Nancy to save us when those bats will rummage through Hawkins? Biting, eating, strangling everyone to their imminent deaths?," she paused, stepping closer to Steve, feeling rageful by the minute, completely lashing out on him.

"Or let's wait for that gigantic shadow monster to take control of everyone and they've all turned into an apocalyptic zombie movie? Let's wait when there's nothing we can do!"

"Let's wait for Nancy to save us, our Lord and saviour! We wouldn't be here without her would we? You know what, you're right, we're going to patiently wait for her and hope for the best!"

She aggressively pushed Steve out of her way, storming out into her room, pacing up and down as she was unable to contain her anger.

She tried sitting on her bed but she couldn't stay put.

Downstairs, Steve was shocked, taken aback, lashing out like that wasn't like her. He was confused.

His hand nervously travelled through his hair, a trembling breath escaping his lips.

His feet slowly moved to the living room, where three pairs of eyes were expecting him, all questioning what had happened.

He was about to open his mouth but he stopped himself, what would he say? what would he tell them that could, potentially, explain what happened?

Nothing, because he didn't know.

He didn't understand what just happened.

He was about to dismiss what happened when they heard the sound of glass breaking upstairs, his brain moved faster than his muscles, he stopped himself in his tracks, she probably didn't want to see him right now if she was so mad at him.

He sent a knowing look at Eddie, who silently agreed to go upstairs, on his way up, a couple steps in they felt a slight movement in the house, an earthquake.

It lasted a couple minutes, small enough to feel it, to make the furniture vibrate but nothing much.

They all stopped, waiting for something else, something that never came, so he stepped further to her bedroom, while Robin had ran to the closest windows that showed the street.

Nothing had changed, there were more dark clouds, and the same amount of thunderstorms, same red colour, nothing had really changed and it had already gotten dark outside.

There were no evident signs that something was happening. Yet.

Eddie opened the door and found her sitting on her bed, a cloth around her hand, dotted in red colour.

He looked around but found no evidence of broken glass, until he approached the bathroom, and found her broken mirrors, shards of it everywhere in the sink.

He turned around and finally met her gaze, a sigh left his lips as he sat next to her, his hands wrapped around her palm, and tried to uncover the cloth to see how bad it was.

The cuts were still bleeding, he couldn't see much, but he covered it back and sighed, his eyes met hers' once again.

There's nothing he could say that would make her feel better, so he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, brought her closer to him, his lips ghosting over her hairline.

"We'll get through this," he finally whispered, the top of his head resting against her's, his hand gently caressing her arm.

"We have to get through this. I promise I will do anything to protect us, I brought you back, I'm not wasting my efforts."

He trusted her, he knew he could trust with his life, she had already proven that, he didn't know if he could promise it back, he would try though.

When the small earthquake shook Hawkins and everyone waited anxiously to see if anything would happen.. it should have been their signal to leave, plan something, seek shelter or even better leave Hawkins altogether.

The portals had opened further, vines were the first thing that went through, their roots were already running deep in the soil and the asphalt, travelling further into the city, the sun setting earlier in the day was an omen for them, they were hiding in the obscurity of the night setting.

Oftentimes revealed by the red thunderstorms, went unnoticed as no one dared to leave their houses.

Another earthquake shook Hawkins then, much more intense than the first one when the four gates opened, the ground was completely ripped apart, more houses destroyed, demolished, most of the city was in shambles.

Roads were destroyed, markets, pharmacies and shops were barely able to handle the shock. The hospital.. the south and east wings were in ruins, on fire, the north and west wings.. were still holding on but not for very much longer.

There were more fires spreading, more red thunderstorms, more spores. More blood and bodies already starting to pile up.

A swarm of demobats entered first, silent as they were lurking in the darkness, small shrieks echoing in the sky were the evidence of their presence.

Then, the first of many Demogorgon passed through, letting out a strident shriek in the night.

It had started.

-> pt. six

tags (of the prequel and/or people who liked the masterlist): please don't hesitate to ask me to tag you but do it in my inbox @freezaz123 @ihavebecomesomething @aphetropy @sigh-mon-says @madaboutjoe @sheerfreesia007 @mystic-writings @333starbride @seatnights @gabby123rocks @mmmcunt @ourprisma @hauntors

(mutuals that might be interested): @strangerquinns @stiles-o-dylan24 @stevharrington (if you'd like to be tagged let me know!)

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things x fem!reader

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softsnzstuff · 2 years

Note

Doctor Eddie and nurse Steve going on their first vacation together and Steve falls sick on their first night there? He insists for Eddie to still go out and enjoy himself but Eddie stays in and takes care of Steve. Even if he’s sick, Eddie is determined to make this a nice self-care vacation 🥹

Yes okay this is so cute! I find the idea of being sick on vacation so good? Like they don’t even have the comforts of their own bed, and they’re limited to the clothes they packed. I mean they obviously weren’t *expecting* to get sick.

Anyways, this is another that’s been in my inbox far too long. Sorry LOL I get busy sometimes. -KB

*****

“Alright there Steve?”

“Hmm?” Steve looks up and realizes he’s been shifting uncomfortably in the taxi. “Uh yeah sorry. Just excited to be here.”

The younger man smiled and turned towards the window so Eddie wouldn’t see him wince as he swallowed. His throat started to feel weird on the plane, but by the time they’d touched down in Seattle, it was full on sore.

The yellow taxi slowed to a stop outside of the Holiday Inn. Steve reached for his wallet but Eddie pushed his hand down.

“I got it Steve.” He smiled at his boyfriend and pulled out his card, handing it to the driver.

While Eddie paid, Steve opened up the trunk and pulled out their suitcases and set them on the sidewalk. A tickle started to bloom in Steve’s sinuses. He scrunched his nose, pawing at it for a second.

Eddie stepped out of the taxi moments later, joining Steve by the suitcases. He put a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Ready?”

“I- AESSHiew! iiTSCHew!” Steve pitched forward, bringing his elbow up towards his face.

“Bless you, bless you!” Eddie laughed, “Guess you’re not used to that West Coast air yet.”

Steve tried to play it off as nothing, “Yeah, must be. Let’s go check into the room!”

***

Their hotel room was clean and simple. Bathroom was to the immediate right of the door. If you kept walking straight you’d be met with a desk, two armchairs, and a king sized bed.

Steve looked at his watch - 5:30pm. “Hey Eds is it okay if I take a shower before we head out? I feel like I’m covered in plane…”

“Yeah go for it! I’m going to research some good options for dinner!”

Grabbing a change of clothes out of the suitcase, Steve shuffled into the bathroom and turned on the water. The steam slowly billowed through the small tiled room, fogging up the mirror.

As he rinsed off his body, he breathed in the steam, coughing slightly when his breath caught in his throat. The coughing must have loosened something within him, because congestion seemed to settle in his head.

He turned off the water and grabbed one of the fluffy hotel towels. He was drying off his body when another tickle blossomed deep in his sinuses. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the urge to sneeze away.

God this was terrible timing. Eddie never took a day off work as is, and it was so hard to get him on this vacation. Now he was so excited about it and Steve went and got sick?? Just fucking perfect.

The tickle was intense, but Steve couldn’t sneeze or Eddie would hear. He pulled on a long sleeved shirt and then rubbed at his nose, sniffling.

“Huhhh… heh.. HEH!”

False start - Steve sighed with relief. He managed to hold back the sneeze for the time being as he put on his jeans and sniffled wetly.

Steam crept along the ceiling as Steve opened the bathroom door to join Eddie on the bed. The older man was sitting on the edge, looking at one of the little brochures the hotel provided.

“Find anything snf good?” Steve asked.

“Yeah I think so! Do you feel like anything in particular? There’s a few options…”

Steve’s attention span dissipated as it turned to the newly formed, intense tickle in his nose. He tried to focus on his breathing while also trying to listen to Eddie.

“…at the top of the Space Needle which sounds awesome, OR…”

“Hihh…” Steve started to breathe in quietly, but tried to stop it. Eddie continued listing off dinner options.

“…I know you like cheese so we could always try Beechers. But otherwise we could- are you even listening?” Eddie turned around just in time to see Steve lose the fight with the impending itch.

“HEH-iiTSHew! H’yeSHuhew! heh- HEH- h’EKTshyUE!….guhhh”

“Bless you! Christ..”

Steve’s arm hovered over his face. Eddie looked at him knowingly and used his own hand to gently lower Steve’s arm. A tendril of mess snapped away and the damp spot in the crook of his elbow was exposed.

“Aw Stevie… why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” He grabbed some tissues from the box by the bed and pushed them into Steve’s hands.

“I did’t start feeli’g sick until we landed.” He sniffled soupily against the tissues.

Eddie looked at Steve for a moment and then folded the brochure and set it down. “Let’s stay in tonight. We can order room service.”

“N’do Eddie we came all this way. You should go out still.”

“How about this: we stay in for dinner and if you still feel bad tomorrow, I’ll go to the Starbucks Reserve and get you some tea. Then I’m still technically sightseeing.”

Steve sniffled helplessly, “Deal.”

#s/tranger t/hings #doctors office au #kb au’s #e/ddie m/unson #s/teve h/arrington #doctor!eddie #nurse!steve #snzblr #steddiesnz #snz kink #ask box

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youngerdrgrey · 1 year

Text

you’re it, you’re the ultimatum au // a wildmoore fanfic, chapter 5

summary: in short, thanks to a reality dating show, Kate gave Sophie an ultimatum, and Ryan gave Angelique one, and soon enough, Ryan and Sophie will spend three weeks in an ‘accelerated’ marriage for this dating show. But first, they have to choose each other. chapter 5 summary: Ryan's plan is revealed, and Sophie struggles for a moment alone with her new favorite participant. + read on ao3

🦇

Ryan avoids looking directly into the camera. Luke’s beside the lens, smiling encouragingly, but the only way she can get the words out is to look up to the ceiling. Not at God, or her mama. She stares at the literal speckled tiles in this hotel conference room.

“Ange and I met in a group home when I was twelve years old. She plopped down on my bed and started reading my comics with me. She was — she is — the only person who looked out for me…. But if I’m going to do this, then we need to start looking out for other people,” Ryan announces. “So I’m issuing my own ultimatum, right here, right now.”

🦇

Sophie impatiently watches the floors tick down on the elevator. The air’s stuffier in here than it was on the roof, but she’s colder already. Without the sun, her cover-up’s lacking. She jealously eyes the comfortable hoodie Julia gets to wear.

The elevator dings as it stops on the ground floor. Sophie’s eyebrows knit together. Their rooms are on the twelfth. This better not be another gym scene.

She breaks the silence. “I can’t spar in this.”

Julia steps through the opening doors and holds her hand over the sensor to keep them open. “You’re not sparring.”

Sophie steps out into view of the waiting camera crew. Her back straightens immediately. “So what is this then? Our tearful goodbyes?” The front exit isn’t far. They could catch Sophie and Ryan waving to each other. Ryan with her suitcase, Sophie shivering from the air conditioning but they play it as a sadness moment. She huffs.

Julia walks to stand beside the camera. “You don’t seem the tearful type. More… fight than flight.”

Fighting’s easier. “What’s flight ever got us?”

Julia chuckles. “It got me here. But, uh, Kate’s the runner out of the two of you, yeah?”

“That’s an understatement.” She winces once the words are out. That probably makes her sound like a bitch. “Kate….” Sophie looks to the closest camera — the one for close-ups that probably make her seem more tired than she really is. “Kate’s got a smart mouth that gets us into situations. I’m the one that gets us out of them. It’s why I’m the one in the field more often than not.”

Julia nods. “Kate must hate that.” She does. “Is that why she gave you the ultimatum?”

“What, to get me out of the field?” Sophie shakes her head.

“Or she felt your frustration, figured this could keep you around longer?”

It’s not a bad idea. Harder to leave once the law’s involved. Not that Sophie has been considering leaving. She’s annoyed today, but she’s been annoyed before. Kate can be… trying. Temperamental and closed off sometimes, affectionate and involved at others. Marriage would mean a lifetime of sorting through her moods and missteps.

Julia starts, “New question. What happens if the ultimatum doesn’t work? If you break up, what do you do?”

Alternating work schedules probably. Jacob knows how important Sophie is to his operation, so he wouldn’t fire her, but she might get sidelined. Or reassigned, depending on how broken up Kate is. Or Kate might leave. Hop on her bike and drive away from Gotham and Sophie just like she did at Point Rock.

Sophie shakes her head. “I try not to think about that.”

“Right, but you know you’re about to live it for three weeks,” Julia says. “So, take this time to think about what you want to do. Not just who you want to spend the time with. What does Sophie Moore actually want?”

Yeah, no, Sophie is not soul-searching outside of a hotel elevator. She shifts her focus from Julia and the cameras. If they’re not sparring or saying goodbyes, then they must be here for the conference rooms. It’s where they did some orientation meetings when they first arrived.

Julia takes the hint that the conversation is over. “We’ll come back to that, yeah?” She motions down the hall and leads the way.

A few interested employees watch them walk through. Sophie pulls the cover-up tighter around her bikini clad body. Since she didn’t get in the water, she’s not too cold. Just more exposed than she’d like to be.

Julia stops them in front of a small conference room. She glances at Sophie and removes her zip-up hoodie. “Remember, I’m always looking out for you. Your best interest is my best interest.” She gives the hoodie to Sophie.

Sophie zips in immediately. She looks a bit silly with the cover-up sticking out from under it, but she can stand with her shoulders back again. Can take a deep breath and twist the doorknob when they give her the okay. Can even smile as she hears Ryan’s voice on the other side. Maybe it’s not goodbye after all.

🦇

Ryan’s leg bounces under the table. Sophie clocks it, in the same way Sophie seems to clock everything. Detective eyes. But Ryan keeps her focus on the printouts in front of her.

“Ryan—“ Sophie tries. She’s still standing across the table, hands awkwardly placed on the top of her chair.

Ryan cuts her off. “Not yet, Crowphie. We’re missing a few people.”

Sophie’s eyebrows raise at the nickname. Her cover-up drags as she pulls her chair out and settles in. She opens her mouth to say something else, but thankfully, Angelique’s voice in the distance drowns her out.

“So you are sending us home? That’s what’s happening? I want to talk to Ryan.”

Her producer — Evan — opens and holds the door for Angelique. They say, “She’s right inside. Please have at it.”

Angelique’s intensity dampens only slightly at the sight of Ryan. Wide eyes soften with relief. She rushes over without waiting for anything more from their producers. She has her hands on Ryan in an instant. Hands cupped on Ryan’s cheeks.

“I’m with you, alright. We don’t need this. They can keep their shitty show and their fucked up experiment.”

Ryan’s heart swells. “We’re not leaving the show,” Ryan tells her. She guides Angelique to the chair beside Sophie’s. “Just wait for our last person, okay?”

Angelique side-eyes Sophie. “Already kinda crowded in here.”

The door opens again before Sophie can respond to that. Everyone turns as Kate walks in. She’s slightly sunburnt where her muscle-tee doesn’t cover her. An easy tipsy grin on her lips that falls at the sight of Ryan.

“Looks like I’m late,” Kate quips.

Ryan motions to the one remaining chair next to Angelique. “Right on time. Now that we’re all here, we can start.” She checks in with Luke, who nods, as Kate sits down. “This show’s about choice, but a lot of people in Gotham don’t have one. So, as a gesture of good faith, I want to stop the person who ruined my life, and you two Crows are going to help me.”

Kate smirks. “And if we don’t?”

Ryan quirks her head to the side. Sophie speaks first. “We will. Help you.”

Kate leans forward to look around Angelique. “Soph, come on. We’re not negotiating here. This is ridiculous.”

Sophie doesn’t bother to look over. “As ridiculous as bringing me here in the first place?” Sophie asks. Kate sighs. Sophie turns to Ryan. “Fill us in.”

Ryan cracks a smile. At least they’re all having problems. “Have you heard of the Candy Lady?”

🦇

How in the hell has Sophie never heard of this woman? The Candy Lady is a kidnapper, functioning under the guise of a kind neighborhood empty-nester. She’s been active for decades and, most notably, kidnapped a twelve-year-old orphan Ryan.

Ryan powers through her recap. Her voice stays steady, but there’s a tension in it that gives her away. “Angelique is the only one who came looking for me. The only reason I didn’t end up somewhere worse. Now, I want to make sure that this bitch doesn’t have a chance to do this to anyone else.”

Kate cuts in. “I love what you’re doing here, but we’re not your personal detectives.”

Ryan stares her down. “Weren’t you just saying the Crows were here to help Gotham? These kids are Gotham.”

What did Ryan look like at twelve? Chunky braids, or a relaxer? Oversized plaid shirts that shrunk as she got bigger. That same big smile on an even smaller face.

Sophie clears her throat. “If we can stop her, then we will.” Ryan actually smiles at her. It’s smaller than the smiles from earlier, but it’s something. Sophie’s heart swells without permission. She averts her eyes. “Ryan, can we talk, separately?”

Angelique narrows her eyes. “If it’s a group project—“

Ryan gives Angelique an appeasing look. “It’s their project.”

Julia speaks over all of them. “And they can talk all about it tomorrow. We’ve got some P.A’s pulling research now. So, you four can sleep on it, and prepare for tomorrow’s group outing.”

Sophie seems uncertain, but Ryan collects her things and heads for Luke to go back to her room. Angelique moves right with her.

Julia steps up behind Sophie and lowers her voice. “Maybe work up to the ‘not all Crows’ conversation.”

Sophie scoots her chair back. “I wasn’t about to do that.” But Julia and Kate have matching knowing looks when Sophie looks around the room. She zips the hoodie up even higher and motions for Julia to lead the way out of the room. With a sigh, she says, “Tell me about this group date.”

🦇

The group date turns out to be a night out in a private bar. The participants drink and talk, play some of the bar games that are set out. Sophie spends most of the early portion trying to find the right time to slip off with Ryan.

Ryan plays a game of darts with Imani, a beautiful Black girl with braids and glasses. Imani does some kind of non-profit work. Sophie can’t remember the details. She’s meant to mingle too, but she mostly takes down questions for the case on napkins with a pen she wasn’t supposed to keep in her purse.

Kate slips into Sophie’s booth and slides a napkin across to her. 2003, Kate’s napkin reads, Beth maps.

“Beth maps?” Sophie asks. Her eyebrows knit together.

Kate stares fondly at them, even as her own eyes cloud over. “Ryan said people were looking for another girl — fair skin, blue eyes. It… it might’ve been Beth.” Oh. Kate toys with the end of the napkin. “I still have all the maps from when me and my dad were canvassing. I’ll have him pull ‘em, and we can cross-reference with what Ryan remembers. See if we find anything.”

Sophie nods. “That’s great.”

“Yeah. Just glad something good can come from me holding onto that stuff.” She catches Sophie’s eye. The shadow of her sister’s gone, replaced with a different kind of grief. A doubt. “I’m not good at letting go.”

“Kate—“

Renee places a glass onto their booth. She clicks her tongue. “They sent me to stop you. You’ve been here too long. Kane. Let’s get some fresh air.”

Kate sighs. She reaches out to brush her hand against Sophie’s. Her fingers have the chill from the drinks on them. She slides out of the booth, and Sophie should probably say something else. Another thank you, or a good night. But Kate’s not the only one leaving their conversation. Imani’s walked away.

Sophie slides out of the other side of the booth. She sweeps the napkins into her hand and stuffs them into her purse while walking over to Ryan.

Ryan, whose Black hair lightly curls around her face, whose curves cry out in this black jumpsuit that honestly deserves a round of applause. Sophie had opted for something more muted — a black top with blue flowers, slacks so she can feel grounded but dressed up. Maybe she should’ve tried harder. She’s always been the dressier one in her couples before.

Ryan must feel Sophie’s eyes on her. Ryan only quirks a brow once Sophie comes up to her near the dart board. She yanks the last one out of the board and turns to fully Sophie.

“You crack the case yet?” she asks.

“Kate’s got a thing about maps, but I don’t want to rehash it.”

“Fine by me.” Ryan goes to step around her. Sophie holds out a hand — not touching her, but in front of Ryan. Ryan stops and glances up at Sophie. “What?”

“Five minutes.” It’s less than Sophie wants, but it’s enough to at least try to rebuild what a single conversation had undone. Ryan’s eyes go to the darts in her hand. Sophie bargains, “But if you don’t need my help….”

Ryan puts the darts down on a nearby table. “Fine. Come on.” She leads the way into the hall. Cameras follow after them, but it’s better to only have the cameras on them. No lingering partners this way.

Sophie takes a moment to collect herself. She’s had to explain herself plenty of times over the years, but never to… never to someone who she actually needs to like her.

Ryan glances at a wall clock. “Five minutes.”

Sophie fights the urge to roll her eyes. “You sound like my sister. Not in a weird way, just…. My sister, Jordan, is on my ass about the Crows and how to actually make a change in Gotham. And I don’t know how to align that with… everything else.”

Ryan looks as unimpressed as ever, so Sophie keeps going.

“We didn’t have a lot of options, so joining the military seemed like the easiest way to get what we needed. You know how they sell it to us.” Sophie pauses, hopeful that maybe Ryan will respond.

Ryan begrudgingly nods. “Free education, travel, family support.”

Sophie lights up. “A chance to make a difference and do what this country should be doing. I went to military school. I served, and then I started working with the Crows to be a beacon for people who needed it. And I am sorry for the Crows that do not uphold their badges, but I cannot apologize for wanting to try. I still believe that one day we can have a better system filled with people who care about making Gotham better. Like you.”

Ryan glances away. Sophie waits until Ryan looks at her again.

Sophie says, “But I am open to listening. To Jordan, that’s my sister, and to you. I would really like it if we could be on good terms.”

It’s probably too much for day three of knowing each other. An abridged life story is early date material though. They can dig into the psychology on another date. If there’s another date.

Ryan starts level, “Our whole system is broken.” There are functioning parts, as far as Sophie’s concerned, but she bites her tongue about that for now. Lets Ryan continue. “But if we can pull off the Candy Lady bust, then… I’m willing to try to be on better terms.”

Sophie doesn’t even have to look to know how wide she’s smiling. It’s gotta be too big because Ryan shakes her head.

Ryan adds, “No offense to you, but Kate’s not exactly the best conversationalist. And Renee cannot stop talking about Pam.”

Sophie lets her smile stay on. Jokes, “Pam’s perfect for you. You can grow a garden together.”

“In what backyard?”

“You’ve been on one date, and you’re talking living arrangements? Damn, you move quick.”

Ryan laughs.

🦇

Angelique knows that laugh. Knows the shyness and the hesitant need for approval that hides beneath Ryan’s big grin. Angelique has spent most of her life protecting Ryan, and she’ll spend the rest of it doing the same thing.

So when Kate walks past Angelique on the way to the bathroom, Angelique drops her conversation to follow. Jogs up alongside Kate and nudges her head towards where their girlfriends are looking at darts.

“You see them?”

Kate keeps her eyes ahead. “Trying not to.”

Great. Ange gets bolder. “Now I get that we’re supposed to do the experiment and trust it and stuff, but personally, I’m not trying to lose my girl on national TV. What about you?”

Kate freezes at the door to the bathroom. Hand on the doorknob, jaw ticking ever so slightly as Sophie’s laugh carries on the wind.

“What did you have in mind?”

🦇

end of chapter 5!

read on for chapter 6!

#wildmoore #batwoman #ryan x sophie #ryan wilder #sophie moore #fic: the ultimatum au #mine #angelique martin #kate kane

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letsbenditlikebennett · 2 years

Text

Treacherous || Ari & Kaden

TIMING: Immediately after Vic called Ari from Silver Bullet PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Ari rushes to the hospital to find a very beat up Kaden and demands to know what happened

“Your friend Kaden is in trouble. He needs you to meet him at the hospital in 20 minutes. Emergency department.”

The words rang in her ears as she stood stunned in the middle of the sidewalk. One minute Ari had Olivia Rodrigo blaring in her ears as she ran through downtown, the next an unfamiliar voice was calling her from Kaden’s number and hanging up just as quickly as she had answered. The breath caught her in her throat and for a minute, her feet felt as if they had melded with the cement, becoming heavier and heavier until she was almost positive they could pull her under. Kaden didn’t just go to hospitals, not when he could stitch himself up without having to give anyone some sort of explanation. If he was willingly going to a hospital and wasn’t even the one to call her, it had to be bad and that alone made her sick to her stomach.

There was a lot Ari could survive losing. She had already survived so much loss, but she couldn’t lose Kaden. He was family. Somewhere along the line he’d become the older brother who took care of her as she so desperately tried to take care of everyone else. When the pieces were too tiny and jagged for her to put back together, it was always Kaden right there by her side to help. On the nights when she missed Celeste so much it felt as if the walls were caving in on her, he was the one who could listen to a story and picture it so clearly because he knew and loved Celeste, too. He was her last tie to the person she’d loved most in the world and even without that, Kaden was too important to her. Every up and down she’d been through in White Crest, it had been Kaden who was there to see her through it. The thought of facing any of this without him had tears welling up in her eyes.

Shaky hands used the app to call for an Uber. Ari was too far from her car to run back for it and get to the hospital within 20 minutes. The drive over had been silent. The driver had tried to make small talk, but it fell on deaf ears. All she could picture was Kaden in an assortment of near death conditions, but none were quite as bad as what she saw when she rushed through the doors of his room. A kind nurse had pointed her in the right direction and whatever followed remained unheard as she ran to find Kaden.

When she caught a glimpse of him, bruised and swollen all over, Ari felt like she was going to be sick. She’d seen the ranger injured plenty of times before, but not like that. “Kaden,” she choked out weakly, “Oh my god, Kaden.” She wasn’t sure if he was awake or not, it was hard to tell with how swollen his eyes were. “Are you,” she trailed off, letting the buzz of fluorescents and beeps from medical machines be the only sound in the room.

The hospital was never Kaden’s first choice. Whether that was learned habit or actual preference, he couldn’t say anymore. He was going to be hard pressed to say a whole lot at all right at the moment, anyway. The ambulance ride over was… well, he didn’t remember. He was out for most of it and he wasn’t entirely sure when he got set up in the room either. It was all a blur. The pain he remembered. Vic calling. He also remembered that he couldn’t ask Regan to come for way too many reasons, and he couldn’t call Ari. No way in fucking hell was he asking a werewolf to come to his rescue outside a hunter bar, even in the best of circumstances. And this wasn’t the best of circumstances. Kaden got the shit kicked out of him because of Ari. Not directly, sure, but that’s what it came down to. He’d made his choice. That choice hadn’t changed. So he’d have sooner died than fucking ask her to meet him outside the Silver Bullet.

Kaden had wasted all his drowsiness on the ride over. Now all he could do was stare at the ceiling, counting dots on the tiles (well, the ones he could make out, at least), tapping his fingers against the bed as he waited. Putain. He shouldn’t have told anyone he was here. Sure, he was bruised to hell and swollen all over and the IV full of fluids was probably a good call along with some of the sutures the ER staff gave him, but he’d much rather be recovering in his own bed.

“Ari?” his head snapped to look as soon as he felt the familiar chill down his spine. She hadn’t even spoken and he knew who it was. Merde, that had been a mistake; there were not more hunter senses down his spine, just pain. Even though the blur, he could tell she was worried, scared. Damnit, maybe he shouldn’t have called her yet. He couldn’t say when he’d started to consider her the little sister he never asked for, it happened little by little over time, unraveling so many of his once tightly woven ideals. Even in this state, the on thin he didn’t regret was standing by her, choosing family that was earned and not assumed.

“Not dead,” he answered her, attempting to smile through the swelling. He tasted a tiny bit of iron in his mouth. Putain, must have resplit a small part of his lip. That didn’t stop him from reaching across himself to start undoing the IV. It was harder than he expected it to be, his hands fumbled trying to grab the line or the needle, the tape, anything he could grab a hold of. “Alright now you’re here, time to go.” His words were more warbled and slurred than he anticipated. It was fine, he’d be fine. The pain was even subsiding a little. Was that because of painkillers the doctors gave him? Maybe. But he was a hunter, or at least had the genetics of one; he’d heal. It was fine.

The harsh fluorescent lighting of the hospital room didn’t do much to shadow any of Kaden’s injury. Every bruise, stitch, and swell was all too visible with how bright the room was and Ari had to make a concentrated effort to not look away. Even in her nightmares, Kaden had never looked this badly battered. His voice should have come as a comfort, but the scratchy edge to it made it sound too weak to be her Kaden. Any doubt was quickly erased by the way he almost immediately was trying to rip the IV off his own arm. “Kaden,” she grumbled, “Quit it.”

Of course the idiot of an adopted big brother that Ari loved so much was trying to get out of the hospital when he was nowhere near in good enough condition for going home. If he looked any better, she would have swatted at his hand. Considering she didn’t want to further injure him, she refrained from the instinctive action and instead plopped herself down in the chair beside his bed. “We’re not going anywhere. I didn’t even drive here and there’s no way any Uber driver that isn’t totally fucking sketch is letting us in their car,” she stated plainly, “So lay back down, big guy. You’re gonna rest up until you look less like shit and tell me what the fuck happened to you.”

“Quit what?” Kaden asked as his fingers tried to grab hold of the line. Fucking swelling was making it way too fucking hard to reach over. He looked over to see if she was going to help him at all but instead she was settled in on the chair. Like she planned to stay there a while. “What are you doing?” he asked, brow furrowing as he watched her getting comfortable where she sat. “Don’t sit down, we’re going to go. Right? We’re– I’m not…”

He sighed and grumbled to himself. He didn’t want to spend any second longer here than he had to. “We could get another uber. Or a taxi. Those still exist, right?” He tired to make a pleading look on his face but he was pretty sure nothing was moving a whole lot with all the swelling. And he was sure even if he could have managed, she wasn’t going to fall for it. “It’s not a big deal. I’ve been through worse. I’ll be fine.” He didn’t think he’d be able to keep the truth or the full story from her forever, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to fucking try to shield her from it as long as he could.

“Quit trying to take your IV out, dumbass,” Ari retorted somewhat jokingly. If he was well enough to try and be stubborn about being here, that was a good sign. It didn’t make her any less concerned about who or what had done this to him. A snort came out as he had the nerve to look at her incredulously for sitting down when he looked like that. Even his fingers were too swollen to get a good grip on the IV. “Kaden, we’re not going anywhere. If you have an IV, you need to be here. Now fucking relax and tell me what the hell happened.”

At the mention of Uber, Ari shook her head. “Uh huh,” she gestured at him, “We both know you don’t have your own Uber account and you’re not bringing down my passenger rating by looking like the walking dead. Which again, begs the question of what the fuck? Who or what did this to you? If it was a mime, I’m having a fucking mime buffet.”

The joking helped crush some of her own anxieties, even if Kaden wasn’t all that amused by it. The larger part of Ari wondered if who or whatever did this to him was still out there and if they’d come back to finish the job. It made her stomach turn and she let her backpack fall on the floor with a loud thud. “I said, quit it. We’re staying here. I don’t care if you’ve had worse, you look like hell right now and I want a doctor to tell me you’re gonna be alright. If you were fine, some stranger wouldn’t have been the one to call me. Now stop before I call Regan and get her to check you out.”

“That’s not fucking true, they give this shit to everyone who walks in the door. Surprised you don’t have an IV. Give it five minutes, they’ll give you one,” Kaden quipped back. She didn’t seem amused. Putain. He was about to keep trying to get a grip on the IV line when he heard what said next. She wanted a doctor to tell her he’d be alright. It hit him like a kick to the gut. The last thing he wanted to do was worry her. As much as he wanted to get up and leave, he’d done enough damage. So Kaden sighed and reluctantly settled back into the bed. “Fine. We’re leaving as soon as possible, though.” He drummed his fingers against the bars on the side of the bed, ignoring the pain even that brought. “I, uh, I already told her. Since, uh, well…” Right, he didn’t really know why. So he didn’t how to explain it.

Somehow saying what happened might be easier. Maybe. He still wanted to avoid it. Ari was clearly worried out of her damn mind, he didn’t need her thinking that she caused this. This wasn’t her fault. Not even a little. But how else could he tell her? “I just ran into the wrong people, okay. Bad luck. It’s not– it won’t happen again.” At least he hoped not.

“I’ve never been given an IV as a visitor at the hospital, just saying,” Ari grumbled, trying to contain her frustration with how goddamn stubborn Kaden was being. It was hard not to worry when even his hands looked too swollen to properly rip the IV out. Apparently something she had said worked and he stopped fidgeting with the stupid thing, much to her relief. Even if he wasn’t thrilled about being there, she’d feel a lot better knowing a doctor could make sure he healed alright without any lasting injury. Sure, he’d heal faster than most, but if anything was broken it needed to be set properly, or at least she gathered as much from Regan with her shoulder and the doctor she saw after. “We can leave as soon as a doctor tells me anything broken is set and there’s no organ injuries or whatever. There’s a word for it that I forget.” She was surprised that he already told Regan, which at least meant they were on speaking terms after the exorcism. “Well, there goes me tattling on you. But if she’s coming by and gives it the okay, I’ll take you home. Either way, I’ll go check on Abel soon.”

The answer Ari received was very roundabout, which only heightened any suspicions she had. If it wasn’t a big deal, he’d just tell her what happened without being vague about it. Her head tilted and she raised an expectant brow. “What people and where? Why are you avoiding the question, Kaden?”

“Not yet,” Kaden muttered to himself. “Could happen.” It was easier to talk about IVs and hospitals and leaving them rather than the pain. Or what actually happened. He squirmed in the bed, but that was a mistake. He forgot how much he’d been roughed up, how bad it really was. Putain de merde, after everything, he nearly got killed by a fucking group of hunters. Out of fucking everything, people who had once been his–

“It doesn’t matter,” he snapped at her. Kaden swallowed back, clamping down his jaw as he looked at Ari again. She was his family. Not the people who had kicked the shit out of him and left him to die. Not the hunters who acted like they stuck together until someone stepped a toe out of line. No, the werewolf. Who would have guessed. “The people who– It doesn’t matter. I’m not going to run into them again. And neither are you.” Kaden caught her eye and had a suspicion. “And you’re not going to go looking for them either, got it?”

Hiding her emotions had never been her strong suit. Usually, if Ari felt something, it was written all over her face. She was earnest in most things she did and this moment was no exception. There was no hiding the grimace or hurt on her face when Kaden snapped in response to her questions, as if she was asking something completely out of left field. “It does matter,” she snapped back, “Some random woman calls me while I’m out for a run and says to meet you in the emergency room and you look like this.”

Ari felt herself growing increasingly frustrated that he refused to give her any sort of real answer about what happened to him. How was she supposed to look out for either of them if he insisted on keeping her in the dark? Then it clicked when he told her not to go looking for them, as if she wanted to start some sort of fight on his behalf, as if violence was her go to answer. “Kaden,” she started, her voice softening, “I’m not trying to look for them and start another fight, but you had me terrified. You could at least tell me who did this to you. I’ll avoid them if you want, I don’t have a demon in my head anymore, making me a self-destructive mess.” There had to be something more there, a reason he was so against telling her. “What, was it another wolf or something?”

As bruised and broken as he was right now, Kaden couldn’t do a single thing to protect Ari. If anything were to happen, he’d be useless. The only way he could protect her was to try and keep her out of what he was dragged into tonight, to keep her from knowing the extent of things. That’s what he was telling himself, at least. And yet she wasn’t going to let him do that much. He wanted to say nothing, let this be and never talk about it again. The best he could do was keep the information minimal. “It was at the Silver Bullet. Hunter bar. Wasn’t a wolf.”

While Kaden didn’t give much in the way of details, he didn’t have to. Ari was able to piece together what it all meant. Most of her life had been running from hunters who wanted her and Celeste dead simply because she was a werewolf and Celeste chose to protect her time and time again. Even Rio and Athena almost died because Rio refused to live up to what his parents expected of him. How could there be so many hunters with compassion and understanding and yet so many who would turn their backs on their own? Her heart broke for Kaden. He was growing into someone she was so fucking proud of and this is how he was treated because of it? She wanted to reach out, give him some sort of comfort, but she was sure her touch would hurt more than help given his current state.

It was a powerless feeling. No matter how good Ari was, no matter how much good she tried to do, there were people that would always see her as a threat because of what she was, people who would consider Kaden a traitor for caring for her. Her shoulders slumped and she swallowed back the lump forming in your throat. If choosing her was going to get him killed, she wasn’t sure she wanted him to choose her, but it was already too late. He chose her and with losing Regan, too, she was the only family he had left. Even if she wanted to run far away to protect him, she couldn’t do that to him, not after everything. Not again. Silence lingered between them for a few moments before she finally said, “Fuck them.”

Ari clenched and unclenched her fists in her lap and continued, “I promise I’m not going after them, but fuck them. You’re better than all of them and I’m so proud of how much you’ve grown in the few years I’ve known you. You let yourself start to see things and understand them in new ways despite what you were always taught even when it hurt like hell. If they can’t see the fucking great person you’ve grown into then they don’t deserve you.”

For as long as he could remember, Kaden had counted on his family. At least, who he thought was his family. When his blood relatives died, the circle of hunters and contacts that his parents had built had kept him safe, fed, and housed. He didn’t think it would be so easy to lose. He couldn’t have guessed back then where he’d be now. That “family” would be the ones to put him in the hospital. All because of the person sitting across him. Someone who had become more family than most of the rest ever had been. It was strange, he couldn’t parse through the emotions, whatever they were. Sadness? Disappointment? That was definitely there. But there was something else, too. Comfort. Belonging. He wasn’t sure he believed most of what she was saying about him, it was too hard to, but he gave her as much of a smile as his face would allow while swollen. “Don’t worry about it, pipsqueak. Family comes first anyway.”

There was a big part of Ari that was angry that anyone could toss Kaden aside the way these other hunters had. That wanted to scream at them about the amazing person they were missing out on, that they hurt so badly, but it wasn’t worth it. They’d just try to kill her, too. As much as she believed anyone could change, she’d meant what she told Kaden. She wouldn’t go looking for trouble. He needed her as much as she needed him. She wouldn’t leave him without any family. She could see the small smile that tried to form on his swollen face and she returned it in kind, gently placing her hand on top of his. “And we’re family,” she said assuredly, “Nothing could ever change that.”

#wickedswriting #p; kaden #kaden #p; treacherous

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theacewithoutgrace · 2 years

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Hey so uh I had a nightmare whoops if you wanna read it go ahead ig

tl;dr — lucid dreams are fucking horrifying if you aren't careful (semi exaggerating but you'll see my point)

also tw for a bunch of stuff considering its a nightmare i dont exactly know all the stufff to tag rn but there'll be a warning when it starts getting bad

if you'd like me to tag everything tho just say please i dont wanna offend or scar anybody sniff

it started off with me in class, except the class was the room of a computer science tuition i went to for only a month in 2020. i had this fur coat too and either my art or english teacher was presenting something, i dont know

then my eyelids started getting heavy, so i put my head on the desk and fell asleep for a bit. literally just by this fact alone i think i already knew it was somewhat of a lucid dream, but my dreamself didnt mention it in the plot. i did wake up once here and then go back to sleep while like leaning on my friend sitting next to me, who just let me sleep cause she's irl famous for always sleeping in class

she woke me up when it was over and we had to switch classes, i dont remember the conversation but i talked to the girls near me in line while going downstairs. its what id usually do normally too, nothing seemed out of the place. it was all really natural in the moment at least, now its all just eerie since im lowkey traumatized by everything coming up holy shit

i immediately fell asleep in the new class too once i got there. also i only notice this later on, but the whole room was so strange. there were a lot lot of broken light fixtures on the ceiling leaking water, and the floor was constantly wet and had these really ugly ass dirt looking black and white marble tiles. try imagining that classroom from the one fight scene in mob psycho 100 where the school just evaporates. i think it was on the 2nd floor

the leading teacher woke me up and told me to go outside for a ceremony because i apparently got selected as one of the candidates for this competition (which i actually gave a submission for just yesterday) i didnt take it seriously, and was still tired, so i went back to sleep. when i awoke, everybody had left- it was just be by my lonesome. i looked outside and the ceremony just then ended too. still not registering that it wasnt real, i ran outside upon spotting my mother in the crowd

when i reached the end of the stairs, i was inside this pub bar thing with all of the other candidates and their parents. apparently my parents just took the uh, 'certificates' they gave. it was like, flowers in vases? i got 3? im not sure what this means, i dont remember the type of flowers. i got mostly red ones, other kids had other types too, it has literally nothing to do eith the actual event i submitted for tho

between the class and the pub scene was when things started getting eerie for me, its when i noticed all of the off broken things in the classroom. i cant fully explain it, but it all started feeling just noticeably slightly off,,,,,,,

there was a great time skip, and i was in my own room, wearing the clothes i am in right now. it was 1am, and it felt like it was ramadan?? i dont know how to explain how it 'felt' like a literal religious month but ok. i think it has to do with everyone still being awake and the cleaning. oh yea, so, when i went to my parents room, some of my classmates were there cleaning and repairing stuff. my parents said they asked them to help when they were at school while i was asleep

everyone in the house was awake doing stuff, all the lights were on and it was noisy, but i clearly knew it was 1am. i think i mightve seen a clock but im not sure if im just remembering seeing the actual clock at 1am before i went to sleep irl. so after my classmates left, i sat next to the door along with two girls from the grade above me. i dont even know who they are, but i just knew somehow i guess

i was talking to them about calculators, specifically about how some older models sometimes give wrong answers and how i liked that my one worked perfectly without me having to switch into degree mode or something. i kept getting interrupted, and actually couldnt finish explaining it to them, cause my social studies teacher was also there? and needed to leave through the door i was in front of? ok then

it time skipped just a little bit more again, and i was upstairs in the 5th floor (im on the 3rd). well, i say 5th floor, but this place doesnt look like the actual 5th floor, its entirely different. ive been to this place in my dream a few times already now, so it kinda felt normal. the 'living room' was really small, the only way i know how to describe it is like its half of a resort hotel's bathroom. the fancy-yet-outdated-design counters and beige yellow cream brown and maroon colour palettes and all. although i dont see it in this dream, the bedrooms look like the old and new house of one of my mom's friends

my aunt offered me some chocolate banana bread, and i ate it while seating in this weird place, i could barely even put the plate on the table cause it was shaped weirdly. this aunt of mine always offers me food when i go to her room, so ive had dreams before where i eat food in this weird dream room. but this time, my grandma and other aunt were there? and they were gossiping about something having to do with me? they first mentioned the weird table counter but then they went onto something else. dream me didnt hear anything - or i just dont remember, but, at then it almost felt like they knew what was going to happen next. like they were talking about how im a poor little meow meow and will have to go through all the upcoming shit

i was above average uncomfortable and left, and then arrived back on the 3rd floor. ok now look i swear it feels like a alot of shit happened here somewhere in this dream but i dont exactly remember. we're getting close to the end of this now.

i was in my parents' room, everything looked normal. it was around 6 - 7pm? again, not sure how i knew, just felt it. it was really windy and the windows kept shaking, so i tried to hold it down for funsies. thats when i noticed,, these pipes? In my eyes they just suddenly appeared out of nowhere, but after seeing them it felt like they were there the whole time, without me noticing. the steampunk-esque pipes were like all across the room btw. I actually even saw them in the part where my classmates appeared, but i didnt enter the room at that time

I first saw the pipes when looking at the top of my window, it was dented somehow without the glass being broken, and the pipe went through it and outside. i started semi panicking, while my eyes traced the pipes back into my room, and saw them everywhere. i looked back outside the window after opening it, it was somehow morning again. as soon as i looked, there was a small explosion. a huge smoke cloud blew into my face, there were people outside my house, screaming

this scene particularly made me start actually panicking, because there was a fire near my house around a month ago maybe? and at the time, it was really scary - as everyone in my house thought our house was the one on fire, due to the way the smoke came. my aunt and i were the first ones to see it, and it looked exactly like the way i saw in my dream. i really didnt wanna live through that moment again

ok so uhm tw it gets really gorey here? mentions of death, blood, violence, such and such

i closed my window, and laid down in my bed halfway sitting, trying to comprehend everything. it was back to the 6 - 7pm again, but this time it was heavy raining. i really didn't want to, but my dream self opened up the window again, and,,,, there was this woman, being stabbed by some guy. there was screaming, and people running around everywhere. the people on the street heard it, there were running, they saw it, they know it, but no one came to help her. i was horrified, but no matter how hard i tried to peel away from the window, close my eyes, and block it all out,, i couldnt stop staring. i couldnt control anything anymore, yet i was practically already completely awake at this point. i wanted to wake up.

i was trying super hard to blink, just merely shut my eyes, practically begging my dream self to do so. it worked for a little bit but it wasnt enough. i finally stopped when i heard my mother's voice in the living room. i finally closed my eyes, the screaming and sounds of heavy storms stopped. i waited for a few seconds to calm myself down before going back to the goal of waking up in real life

except, i couldnt open my eyes anymore. i felt myself blinking intensely, desperately trying to see the room i was sleeping in irl, but it was all black and reddish. i was on the verge of tears pls - and when i finally managed to open my eyes, it was only halfway. i kept blinking over and over, saying repeatedly that i wanted to wake up

and then, i did. i saw the room, the room in real life. i was actually awake for a few seconds. but, i couldnt move. i still wasnt fully awake, every part of me was tired. i wanted to get up and run away so badly, and yet, when i blinked again, i was back to the dream world. however, i was able to get up

i ran to the living room, all of my family was there. i asked them, if it was finally all over, if i was awake for real now. they sat silent, all just staring at me. I knew it, I'm still in the dream, aren't I? I wanted to scream, and cry so badly. I tried too, but it was no use. I couldnt go any louder than this specific limit. If I tried, it sounded like i was aggressively whispering while losing my voice. the screams of the woman in my front yard were so vivid, yet i couldnt. yknow that fun fact about how your thinking voice while reading also cant be louder than how it usually is? i think it has to do with that actually. so yea, not-so-fun fact

i looked at my parents, trying to find an answer, a way to get out of this mess. I wished they could help me, they could tell me, and they could hold me in their arms and tell me everything's alright, that it's over now. But they too, were silent. I ran back to my parents' room, and they were there, on the bed, smoking cigarettes? my mom doesnt even smoke, but my dad does smoke everything in existence other than weed so eh. they were also the younger versions of themselves? Just above 18 i would say? I kept pleading for the way out, but they kinda just continued smoking, slightly grinning. kinda making fun of me i guess?

in the end i just dropped to the floor, knees all wobbly, crying - well, crying but, no tears were flowing, and i couldnt make a sound. i think i eventually passed out in the dream from being overwhelmed, and once again, i woke up in the real world. I could move, I shouldn't moved, I should've stood up and walked away from the bed. but y'see, I already was sleep deprived, and had less than an hour of horrible sleep - I was tired ok. I ended up just staring at the ceiling trying to calm my breathing for a few minutes, before accidentally falling asleep again. I actually did consider leaving the room at that time, but uh, I was afraid that seeing the uhm, not safe things in the kitchen while in a mental state like that would give me thought i really did not need

i was back in the living room of that dream world. at this point, i kinda accepted that id be stuck there for a while. i'll just wake up to my alarm to go to school, yea? its going to be ok - everything would be fine, as long as i just did nothing. it will only feel like a few minutes right? it'll be morning any time now. i hoped. anyway, my aunt said something to me before going to her room to sleep. i knew that there was nobody else in the house somehow too. things were pretty quiet for a few minutes. i just kinda looked around, trying to comprehend everything

then suddenly, miku (the vocaloid in case you didnt know ndjhjsjd) showed up? not her usual clothes, but like casual summer short sleeve white crop top with shorts look with her hair down. the plot went down like it was dating sim now?? i mean, there was still no 'plot' but yk what i mean shh. it kinda went like, those my talking tom games? or the ddlc talking to monika thing? it was just miku talking to me, though i dont remember anything that was said. okok but then, i somehow triggered a cutscene? which looked like those 'emotional montages' of lovers having a reunion at the beach during sunset or something, but it was just in my living room.

the important part is how it ended tho. i twirled miku around a few times holding her hands, grabbed her by the waist, then threw her up. she started floating, like it a slowmotion scene, but she ultimately came back down when i grabbed her again. it happened directly below where the ceiling fan was. when it ended, i was thinking - wow, it actually isnt that bad this time. maybe i wont be traumatized further, bleh. for some reason, the cutscene repeated, and,, i really shouldn't have done it, i don't know why i didn't do it willingly by myself, but, my sanity was probably slipping away. when miku started floating,,, i was curious, what would happen if i just, purposely not pull her down,? would my brain allow it to happen? would it really make me see,,,?

when miku floated up, i wanted to see how my brain would even create the image for me, of miku, being chopped up by the ceiling fan. i can somehow still remember, the way she grabbed arm, telling me to stop, telling me to please not let go - and I, forcefully shoved her away? And in the end, I didn't see it happen, but I heard her screams. and saw her laying on the sofa, bleeding out with her head half open- and she started like, having a breakdown, like she suddenly understood that she isn't real and that the dating sim esque thing was fake, that it wasn't all cupcakes and rainbows?

the were bloodstains everywhere, on the ceiling, walls, floors, on myself - my vision had a red tint too, and the room was shaky like an acid trip or something. this weirdass deformed baby thing appeared too?? think of like, the regular show artstyle, but semi 3D. everything was loud. miku crying, her echoes wailing, the baby thing pointing and laughing at me, insulting and shaming me- apparently i just- couldnt take it anymore- its literally all in my head, so its not like its illegal, but its still a horrible thing to do i guess. i just began kicking the cursed baby thing. it wasnt human afterall. everytime it passed out, it became a more deformed version. it eventually turned into this weird green thing that looked like slime in a transparent sack. imagine one of those stress toy type stuff but gooey.

the dream finally, actually ended, when i gave up kicking the thing, and threw the leftovers in the trash. up until the final moment, everything was still loud and ringing in my head. the laughing and screaming. when i woke up, i still couldnt really believe it. but i felt the coldness of the air conditioner and heard the super loud sound of the fan next to me, so it had to be real. i checked the time on my phone, and relied washed over me (i only got an hour of sleep apparenly) but, that relied didn't last for long since i started crying nfjndjhd. ive had sadder, more worse dreams, where my parents die or something. but somehow, this dream really affected me alot- ive never had a dream quite thing gorey i know at least

ive been kinda purposefully staying up for a few days now, only sleeping after really really exhausting myself so my brain wont have the time or energy to put me back there again. also because im afraid but ok- also, the reason i googled hatsune miku horror games was because i swear ive seen games where it was creepy and almost just like this. where everything was fine until you do something wrong. but, i think i mightve been thinking of a mix of ddlc and this game called 'can your pet'. which, i watched back in 2017 or something?? also, i mightve thought of miku in a horror game because of the vocaloid song 'bacterial infection'

uhm anyways, if you read this, i apologize, sorry, you probably shouldve stopped huh- this is probably trauma dumping or something i dont even know im sorry s o b

#tw gore #long post

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indigoh4ze · 3 years

Text

party || rafe cameron

warning- SMUT // vaginal fingering, eating out, vaginal penetration, mentions of intoxication

rafe cameron x fem!reader

a/n- so this is my first time writing for outer banks, im terrible at writing actual interactions so im sorry its so bad at first lmao. also disclaimer: rafe in this fic is nothing like he is canon, so his characterization is off. enjoy :)

also feel free to request for any outer banks characters i write for

turn on notifs here - @slvt4fakerealities-library - to be notified when i post a new fic

join taglist (add yourself to the outer banks section)

the lights were blazing, different colors zapping throughout the room as you made your way over to the couch. your head was slightly fuzzy from the intoxication, but you managed.

since the couch was empty, you took the chance to sprawl your whole body out on it, head on one arm and feet dangling off the other. you watched as everyone danced and made out and filled their bodies with even more toxins. soon, you found yourself just dazing up at the ceiling, lips opening and closing slightly as you lip-synced in a whispering tone to the loud music.

after what felt like hours, but could’ve only been a few minutes, you felt something nudge your thigh. without moving your neck, you let your eyes flash down to find the source of the movement.

hovering over you was rafe cameron. his dirty blonde hair framed his face messily, a single cross earring dangling from his left ear, a red solo cup in his hand as his free hand poked at your thigh.

“what?” you slurred, now moving up on your elbows and blinking back the haziness.

“i wanna sit,” he said, taking a sip from the cup. even in this state it wasn’t hard to notice how good the boy looked, tilting his head back and gulping down the liquid, eyes never leaving your own.

you groaned, pulling your knees to your chest and allowing rafe to throw himself onto the cushion. you were now facing his side, as his hands gripped your legs and pulled them back to their original position, except now they laid over his leg. giving him a curious look, you laid the side of your face on the back cushion and fidgeted with the bracelet around your wrist.

“shouldn’t you be like- getting shit faced or something.” rafe snickered at your words, sending you a glare before looking back down to his cup, which he was also mindlessly playing with.

“sorry, did i interrupt your little..nap?” he teased with a hint of amusement, referring to the previous state you were in, and you scoffed in return, mind clearing a bit more and making room for annoyance.

“whatever.” and then, you were pulling your legs off him and standing up, albeit wobbly as you almost fell to the side, caught by rafe’s firm grip around your arm.

“you good?”

“‘m fine,” you dismissed the boy, confused as to why he was even talking to you in the first place.

the truth was, you never liked him, he was rude and careless and selfish and way too much to put up with. but you couldn’t deny the attraction you felt towards the boy, and the tension that was always evident when the two of you were together.

but you always just pushed those thoughts aside, because even the thought of anything happening made your mind whirl with a plethora of emotions, not good ones by any means.

but then, you also couldn’t deny the recurring fantasies of things that could happen. could but wont, because he’s rafe cameron, and not even you’re desperate enough to be one of his bitches.

“hey?” a light tug of your arm pulled you back to the present, and you turned to see rafe at your side, cup forgotten as one of his hands molded around your waist and the other wrapped around your bicep to steady you.

“i’m really fine-.” you pulled away from him, and right as you did so, you felt someone back up on you, pushing you towards rafe and into his chest as a cold liquid spread from the lower half of your head and down your back.

you gasped in surprise, suddenly awake and alert as you sharply turned to see a boy standing there, cup tilted and empty as all its contents spilt on your back. he mumbled a quick apology, then took off laughing with his friends about something they said that probably wasn’t even funny.

“you sure about that?” rafe inquired, eyebrow raised in amusement as you stepped away from him, this time more cautiously. “c’mon, we’ll clean you up.”

although you wanted to say no and tell him to fuck off because you could handle it yourself, you were too exhausted from the long night to put up much protest other than a dramatic groan. then, you nodded, and rafe led you away from the crowd of people with a tug of your wrist.

—//—

now, you found yourself in a bedroom, rafes bedroom, waiting expectantly as you stood in front of the boy.

“what now?” you ask, palming your eyes and yawning, looking back at rafe with glossy eyes now, which were sending waves of tingles through the boys stomach.

“take a shower,” he implied, as if it was obvious. you scrunched your brows as he pointed to the bathroom on the other side of the room.

“i don’t have any spare clothes.”

“i’ll find you something to wear,” rafe shrugged, “go on,” he urged you to the bathroom, and you followed obediently, not having it in you to put up any sort of fight or ask questions.

“i’ll be right back,” rafe said from the room as you closed the bathroom door, only to hear the door to the bedroom close as well, meaning rafe left.

your mind was filled with the thought that he just ditched you, which was a possibility, but you ignored that thought and slipped your shirt over your head. once all the articles of clothing were thrown onto the cold tile floor, along with your shoes which sat messily in the corner, you lift a foot into the tub, stepping in.

immediately, you played with the oddly fancy knobs and managed to turn them on, warm water rushing through the shower head as your tilted your head back into it. the odd colored drink washed away from your hair, falling onto the floor of the tub and down the drain smoothly. you searched for soap, quickly cleaning up and scrubbing your hair twice for good measure. the smell of the soap reminded you of rafe, not surprising considering it was literally his own soap, you told yourself, annoyed by your current thoughts.

the feeling of the slightly cold water hitting your skin was enough to wake you up fully, but you were too lost in the blissful feeling of the water to pay much attention to your surroundings.

that was until you heard the door to the bathroom open, and you peaked your head through the curtain to find rafe, setting a towel on the counter, along with a shirt and a pair of shorts.

“who’s are those?” you questioned, making rafe jump as he realized you were watching him.

“sarah, i just took some from her,” he shrugged, and now you were even more confused.

first, he started talking to you randomly. then he’s helping you stand. then he’s taking you to his room..so you can shower. then he’s getting clothes for you to wear? how much did you have to drink? you started to ask yourself, questioning if this was all you just being wasted.

but it wasn’t, you felt pretty much fine. so there had to be something you were missing.

“just hurry up and change, i’ll be in the other room.” without another glance towards you, rafe left the bathroom, leaving you standing there, wet hair dripping forward from the way you had tilted your head to peek through. you went back to getting the soap out of your hair, rushing a bit more now.

meanwhile, rafe was in his room, just outside the bathroom, sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. what the fuck am i doing? was his only thought.

he was honestly just confused as you were. it started when he saw you laying on the couch, mouth agape as your eyes sketched shapes on the ceiling. you just being there was tempting enough, but after that he just had to make his way over to you.

the two of you hadn’t had many conversations in the past, at least no genuine ones. most were just bickering, to be honest. but, just as you thought, the tension was undeniable. the feelings weren’t one sided, that was for sure.

when he caught you from falling over, you had leaned into his warmth and something almost turned in his stomach, which was quite nauseating on his side. it was annoying how fucking worked up he got around you. his mind would spin with options of what to do with you. did he want to just kiss you, fuck you or annoy you to death? he had no idea, but it was overwhelming, to say the least.

so when he invited you to his room to clean up, he wasn’t really thinking about it, because everything was happening at once. he even searched his sisters room for goddamn clothes for you.

interrupting his inner monologue, a door opened and out came your figure, except you weren’t wearing the clothes he had given you. no, you were just in your towel, actually. your skin looked slightly damp still, but your hair had been fluffed out and dried a bit from the towel.

“what are you- where are the clothes i gave you?” rafe asked, standing hesitatingly.

“dunno, wasn’t my style i guess,” you shrugged, looking around his room casually, taking in the very rafe feel it gave.

rafe just scoffed, messing his hair up and stepping closer. “well, you can’t really go out in a towel now, can you?”

this reminded you that there was still a party going on, although it was muffled and a bit quieter as people began to call it a night.

“then i won’t go out.” you stepped closer, looking up at rafe with an expression of uncertainty, trying to identify the look behind his eyes, figure out what the fuck he was up to. but you saw nothing. if anything, there were just a bit of nervousness hidden there.

“and what exactly do you plan on doing, then? since your obviously so wise.” now his guarded demeanor was back up, though he had taken a step closer so your heavy breaths were hitting each other perfectly, hands close to grazing one another’s.

“i don’t know.” then, another reminder flashed in your mind, and you looked back at rafe, “wait, why are you even here? isn’t this like- your party?”

“well, technically topper wanted a party, i wanted to go to bed and sleep for a year.” you chucked at this, figuring he had already gotten fucked up today and didn’t feel like another party. then, taking a risk, you leaned in just a bit, and rafe didn’t pull back. actually, he pushed forward, bringing his large hands to wheel around your waist, setting fire through your veins.

it was as if both of you snapped at the same time, first eyeing each others lips, then pushing forward and taking said lips between your own. the kiss was hungry and long waited, immense relief flushing through you, which took you both by surprise.

not even a few minutes of this passed by before rafe was tugging at the towel, still clinging around your naked body, droplets of water probably wetting his floor.

before letting the fabric reveal your body, rafe looked at you, pulling away for a moment and looking over your features, silently asking permission. a quick nod was all it took for the material to be ripped off and throw to the side, rafe spinning you both around until the backs of your knees hit the bed and you fell back onto the mattress.

rafe looked over you with a smirk, eyes skimming over each and every detail of your body as if savoring it. a lick of his lips was all it took for your thighs to rub together, anticipation becoming too much as you waited for him.

this obviously pissed him off, because now his hands were tearing your legs apart, exposing your bare cunt inch by inch. “don’t even try to cover this up, got it?”

his voice was demanding, and luring, enough to make you nod, eyes softening in obedience, resulting in a snicker from rafe.

he leaned back in, delving down to leave kisses along your collar bone and suck on the flesh until bruises built against your skin, making you whimper and grab his dirty blond tressed with your fingers.

the sound of your whimpers made rafe go crazy, but he tamed the need inside him long enough to work his way down your stomach, placing teasing kisses down your inner thighs, but not once touching the spot you needed the most attention in.

“please, rafe,” you pleaded, not sure where it came from but gong with it once you saw the way he looked up at you, lust blown eyes and parted lips, waiting to be against your cunt.

“please what, hm? tell me what you want me to do, baby,” rafe cooed, fingers clenching around the inside of your thighs so he could push them apart and kiss your inner thighs, resulting in your back arching and hips begging upwards.

“n-need your mouth.” your face blushed with embarrassment of having to speak the words, but rafe just tsked, one hand moving upwards as he used his thumb to draw circles around your cunt, only passing your folds, earning a cry from you.

“i need more than that, doll.”

“fuck! please, j-just need your mouth on me, rafe, need to feel your mouth on my pussy, please!”

it seems that was acceptable for rafe, his thumb pausing just above your clit, then dragging down, finally grazing over the sensitive bud and stimulating it perfectly. your hips jerked at the sensation, but you grew accustomed to the feeling once he began working in small circles.

soon, his mouth was on your cunt, tracing paths over your folds and rubbing at the nub with a flat tongue, constantly sending shivers through you as you moaned with pleasure. his hands stayed at your side, ring clad finger’s cold against your flesh as his tongue dug inside you and began fucking your hole with no remorse.

the shapes and letters his warm tongue carved into you were almost too much, and when you reached down to rake your fingers through his hair, you fought the urge to push his head down and allow him to bury himself completely between your thighs.

“f-fuck! rafe, oh god, feels so good,” you sobbed, voice becoming louder as he hummed into you, a smirk on his lips, no doubt, from seeing you fall apart for him.

rafe pulled away within a second, licking his lip and keeping his eyes on your cunt, calculating his next move. you watched as he did so, suddenly feeling exposed as he raked his eyes over the slick coating your folds and your clit throbbing painfully through them. you squirmed at the emptiness, about to squeeze your thighs together, but you were too late as rafe brought a hand up, middle and forefinger pushing through your folds and embedding themselves within your walls.

a loud gasp escaped your lips as he did so, and you bit down painfully on the cushion of them as his fingers pumped in and out of you with nonstop speed. rafe looked up at you, his own lips parted beautifully as he watched moans flow easily out of your mouth.

“you like that, baby?” came his husky voice, only intensifying your already great pleasure that ran through your body. you nodded at his inquiry, not able to form coherent thoughts under his gaze. and that was when his fingers made a hook and pressed against your most sensitive part, making you squirm.

his smirk became bigger, and his fingers fucked you harder, a desperate attempt to ruin you right there. then he was leaning down, still pumping his fingers, and began to lick your clit with fervor, flicking the bud and sucking without resistance until your thighs were clenching around his head and you were a complete moaning mess.

“oh fuck- i’m g-gonna come rafe, pleaseplease,” you begged pathetically, having no time to be embarrassed as he hummed, nodding his head while still sucking on your clit, and permitted you to let go.

the orgasm took over in a huge wave, which came surprisingly fast, and the only thing on your mind was the bubbling in your stomach that was finally freed. moans and gasps fell from your lips as you wet his tongue and fingers, and rafe didn’t let a drop go to waste as he lapped up your slick, helping to prolong your orgasm.

hands reaching for his hair in dazed motions, eyes closed and lips parted, you mumbled, “t-too much, rafe,” which was the boys que to give you a final kiss on your clit, then remove his head and fingers from your cunt.

now, rafe stared up at you, swiping a ring clad thumb over his bottom lip, which was glistening with your arousal. his thumb then moved to enter your mouth, and you dutifully took in the digit, sucking with starry eyes, and whimpering when he removed it from your grasp.

rafe rose to his full height, still in his shirt and pants, which were no doubt keeping his hard dick from standing tall. suddenly, you felt that flush arise to your cheeks from your being nude, and you bit your lip and reached a hand out to grapple at his shirt. he took this as a sign to pull the material over his head, then going in for his buckle as well. the sound of the metal clinking as he loosened it from its straps was enough to send you into a spiral of anticipation, eyeing his clothed prick impatiently.

rafe had that smirk plastered to his face still, throwing his belt aside and then his pants, making sure not to go too fast as he tormented you.

you let out a whine as he hooked his fingers around his boxers, not pulling them down fully but revealing his v line. “rafe,” you pouted, and he decided to be nice and let them fall down, now unclothed as he kicked off his shoes and settled ontop of you, marking your chest and neck immediately.

sighing with content, you held him close and let his lips suck on your flesh, until the arousal was too much and he began to grind against you, slowly. your cunt was already becoming slick again as he rubbed against your thigh.

rafe lift himself up to his knees, pumping his cock, the point of his tongue poking out from the side of his mouth in concentration. the image of your breasts on display for him, and your lips parted and chest thumping was enough to make the boy cum on the spot.

he raised a brow at you, making sure you were still okay, and once getting a quick nod, he pressed the head of his cock against your folds. in the next second, he was thrusting into you, earning a loud gasp from you, which he covered with a hand on your mouth.

“shh, ‘m gonna fuck you good, okay? just lay there and look pretty,” he teased, but you nodded, wanting nothing more than to do as he said.

the thrusts started out mild, but soon quickened tempo, hips stuttering against yours as he wrapped a hand around your leg and pulled it over his shoulder. this allowed a better angle, and you moaned with him as he repeatedly pounded into your already sensitive cunt.

you slid a hand down your bouncing breasts and stomach, then to your throbbing clit, soothing it with your gentle fingers before rafe slapped them away, as if saying “mine.”

his own hand went around your propped up leg to thumb at your clit, whilst the other made a path over your hips and breasts, fondling with the mound of flesh and pinching your nipple.

the overstimulation was rushing through you violently, his thrusts becoming sloppy, orgasm at the brink. you watched his head fly back, eyes rolling and mouth a gape, hypnotized by how pretty he looked even when he was fucking you.

“rafe,” you repeatedly mumbled, forming no other words in your clouded mind.

“hm? does it feel good? d’you like the way i fuck you, pretty girl?”

“y-yeah, so good,” you hummed, your own head rolling back onto the pillow, hips thrusting up to meet his and satisfy the hunger that once again boiled in your core.

“i’m gonna cum on your tits, are you gonna be good for me?” he said just as your orgasm was about to wash you away, and you nodded fast, once again wanting to be the best you could for him.

then, you came, waves of pleasure splashing through you before he pulled out, still thumbing your sensitive bundle of nerves, using his free hand to fist his cock which hovered over your breasts.

you held your tits in two shaky hands, squeezing them together and massaging them while rafe came, painting your breasts and stomach until he had milked out every last drop he could. he mumbled yes’s and fuck’s, along with your name until his high died down.

breathing harshly, you set ur sight to the ceiling, deep intakes of air causing the ends of rafe’s lips to turn upwards slightly. he leaned down to place one last kiss on your flushed cheek before letting himself fall onto the mattress beside you.

“let’s clean you up,” rafe said, turning to look at you, “the party’s not over yet.”

uhhhh yeah idk how i feel ab this i hope it wasn't terrible ig. reblogs appreciated :)

@o-rion-sta-r @saggyb1lls @rylynn-m @dobbysockcollection @arcaneslut @arianagreyy @el-imaskingforyourlefthand

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe x reader smut #rafe x reader #outer banks #outer banks smut #outer banks fic #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you smut

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jeyramarie · 3 years

Text

Drawings (part 2)- Amy March x Reader

summary: sometimes you have to make sacrifices for love, even if they kill you

wc: 4,627

warning: domestic violence, makeout session

a/n: here’s part 2😁 the previous part did so well i thought it would be unfair to not give you all a glimpse of what happened afterwards. phillip is portrait by tom holland, keep that in mind. i hope you enjoy, happy reading 🦋

part 1~

The romance grew and grew everyday. Amy invited Y/n over to her aunt’s regularly. As well as the brit invited Amy over to her house. The March sisters caught on what was going on when Meg and Beth saw the women kissing in their backyard. The only people that didn’t know about the affair was Y/n’s grandmother, Aunt March and Marmee. They were hoping it stayed that way.

“My grandmother’s returning tomorrow. I got her letter this morning.” Y/n said as she walked next to Amy around her blossoming backyard.

“Which means that our escapes won’t be so often.” The blonde frowned slightly as she grabbed the brit’s hand, making her turn around.

“We can still have our escapes, we just have to be more careful.” She smiled as moved a piece of hair behind Amy’s ear as she grabbed the brit’s wrist, kissing her palm.

“I’m gonna get going. Meg is waiting for me.”

“Alright, love. Be careful.” The blonde nodded and she smiled, leaning in to give Y/n a soft kiss. Amy cupped her cheeks as the kiss grew hungry, making the brit grab her waist and pull her closer.

“Mm, I have to go.” Amy mumbled into the kiss making Y/n chuckle and part from her.

“I’ll go to your house tomorrow.” The brit smiled as the blonde returned it.

“Alright, I'll wait for you.” And with that Amy walked out of the garden, into the house and out to the street. She walked into her house and took off her coat.

“Meg! I’m here!” She shouted as she walked into the living room to see Beth, Jo and Laurie.

“And the lady returns.” Laurie said as he dramatically extended his arm towards Amy.

“How is Y/n doing?” Jo asked as she stood up to place a book on top of the fireplace.

“She’s lovely, as always.” The blonde blushed as she sat down on the chair in front of the couch.

“You look so happy, Amy.” Beth said with a huge grin as she continued to knit something on her lap.

“I am happy.” The blonde smiled as she fidgeted with her fingers.

Across the street, Y/n sat alone in the library. She was reading Shakespeare, feeling an incredible attraction to his tragic love stories. The maid knocked and walked in with a silver tray carrying tea and biscuits. She placed the tray next to Y/n catching her attention.

“Thank you, Margaret.” The brit smiled as the red head courtesy and walked towards the door, quickly remembering something.

“Madam, your grandmother is on her way here. Some locals at the market told me they saw her getting out of the boat.”

“She’s a day early… thank you, you may go.” The maid courtesy once more and walked out leaving Y/n feeling uneasy. Her biggest fear would be her grandmother finding out about her affair with Amy. Which meant that she needed to have a serious conversation with the blonde. A few minutes later, she put the book down and walked downstairs, the exact moment when her grandmother walked in.

“Y/n, darling. I missed you.”

“Granny, you’re home.” They both smiled as they wrapped each other in a tight hug.

“How was London?” Y/n asked as she intertwined her arm with her grandmother’s, beginning to walk towards the garden.

“Oh darling, it was so lovely. The flowers are beautiful this time of year and the weather was just perfect.” She said as her smile grew, staring at the brit and back at front. Suddenly, she stopped and turned to Y/n immediately grabbing her hands.

“I brought you something, someone really.”

“Someone, gran? I- I do not understand.” The brit’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion not understanding what her grandmother was talking about.

“I think she means me, madam.” A manly voice said behind Y/n, making her turn to the man. He was a bit tall, not so much. His hair was brown and a bit curled, his brown eyes were sweet and welcoming. He could make any girl melt. Any straight girl, that is.

“And who may you be, sir?”

“I’m Phillip, madam. Phillip Sherrington.” He said and bowed towards Y/n, out of respect, with an extended hand for her to grab.

“Pleasure, Mr. Sherrington.” The brit said coldly as she turned back to her grandmother.

“Granny-“

“We agreed you were going to find a husband and I found the perfect man for you.” The lady said as she gestured to Phillip with her hand.

“I wanted to find him myself, Gran.” Y/n muttered as she became more nervous with her Amy situation.

“Nonsense, darling. Now, you both are gonna have some tea tomorrow afternoon, get to know one another.”

“Granny, I was going to have tea with Amy March tomorrow.”

“You’ll have to cancel.” and with that the lady walked to Phillip, taking him into the garden. Y/n stayed alone in the middle of the living room looking out the window towards the March’s house. She grabbed her coat and ran out of the house, bolting across the street. Once at the house, she knocked on the door desperately in hopes that the blonde was still home. She felt as if God had answered her pleas when Amy opened the door, her smile quickly turning into a frown once she saw her love’s watery eyes.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?”

“Granny’s home, she brought back a man… a-a rich man to be my husband.” Y/n ranted as she walked into the house.

“A man, what?”

“She brought back a man, Phillip, from London. She brought him here to be my husband.” The brit cried as she placed both her palms on her head. Amy grabbed her arms and shook her slightly.

“Y/n, love. Look at me, please.” Y/n looked up and met the blonde’s green eyes as she began to cry. The brit wrapped her arms around Amy, pulling her into a tight hug as the blonde immediately wrapped her arms around Y/n.

“I can’t take you for tea tomorrow. I have to go out with Phillip… but we can go somewhere the day after tomorrow.” She sniffled as she parted from the hug.

“It’s alright, love.” Amy cupped her face and pecked her lips, not remembering that the girls and Laurie were still there.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you… all of you. I-I’m sorry. Now if you all will excuse me, I have to get going before my grandmother notices I’m gone.” Y/n said, looking at everyone in the room and finally staring at Amy.

“The day after tomorrow, alright?” She whispered softly as she cradled the blonde’s face. Amy nodded leaning into the brit’s palm before she parted from her and ran out the door. The blonde stood there looking at the door for a few seconds, then turned to her sisters and Laurie with tearful eyes.

The next morning came around and Amy barely slept the night before. Thinking of Y/n and her possible future husband. The brit didn’t sleep either, not being able to get the blonde’s eyes out of her memory. She was currently laying on her side, staring at the wall when Margaret walked in. The maid opened the curtains, letting the bright sunlight in as Y/n turned in her bed, looking at the ceiling.

“Your grandmother is waiting for you in the dining room to begin eating breakfast.” The redhead said as she took a dress from Y/n’s closet, placing it on the bed. The brit woke up with a grunt as she sat up on the bed. She stood up and walked towards Margaret who unbuttoned her sleeping gown, taking it off her body. Y/n got into her undergarments as the redhead looked for the corset that went with the dress.

‘Breathe.’ Y/n reminded herself as her body jolted caused by the harsh pulling of the strings being tied behind her. The corset became tighter around her waist as it bruised her ribs more and more. Once in the dress, she sat down on a wooden chair for Margaret to start on her hair. Y/n winced as the redhead pulled, braided and pinned her hair back.

“Thank you, Margaret.” The brit said softly, walking out of the room, down the stairs and into the dining room. Her grandmother was there, reading the newspaper with her reading glasses as she sipped some warm tea. The lady heard the heels against the wooden floors.

“Good morning, darling.”

“Hello, Granny.” She said as she sat at the chair next to the grey haired women.

“Phillip will come by around lunch time to pick you up.”

“Alright.” Y/n answered dryly as she sipped from her tea, she was going to take a bite from a piece of bread when her grandmother spoke.

“Darling, maybe you should start cutting off carbs for some time. You have to look your best to become Phillip’s wife.” The brit looked at her and nodded, giving her a fake smile. Her ribs screamed for air as she stayed on the chair, feeling nothing but pain. Y/n stayed quiet for the rest of the morning. She practiced on the piano right after breakfast to kill time till Phillip arrived. Her fingers moved against the piano tiles with delicacy, creating a beautiful melody that she had written for Amy. Y/n was lost in the song, having her eyes closed and once she opened them she saw her grandmother standing next to a smiling Phillip. The brit gasped and stood up immediately as if she had been caught.

“That was incredible, you’re very talented.” The british man smiled as he clapped while walking towards the brit.

“Thank you, Mr. Sherrington. How do you do?”

“I’m doing quite well, how are you this fine evening?”

“Well sir, I’m doing good.”

“That’s lovely, we should get going.” He smiled and took out his hand for Y/n to grab. She grabbed it and he placed it intertwined with his as they began to walk towards the door.

“Have a lovely evening.” Y/n’s grandmother smiled as she kissed both her granddaughter’s cheeks. The brit grabbed her coat and small bag before walking outside. She immediately looked towards the March’s house to see Jo walking out. They looked at each other for a few seconds until Phillip broke her trance.

“I beg your pardon.”

“The carriage is ready.” He smiled, taking her hand, helping her onto the carriage. Phillip sat in front of Y/n as they began to move. The carriage ride was mostly silent as the y/h/c clearly showed she didn’t want to be there. Of course, it wasn’t Phillip’s fault. He was quite the lovely guy, respectful, sweet, attentive, every lady's dream. Y/n just didn’t want him in that way, she wanted Amy.

“Are you always this quiet?” Phillip asked, making Y/n look at him.

“Sometimes, yes. I’m just… a bit closed off with new people.” She said and looked out the window.

“What do you normally do?”

“I like to read.”

“Oh really?” He was surprised with her answer, not expecting a lady of her position to enjoy reading.

“Yes, really. Why is it so surprising?” She asked, looking away from the window and towards him.

“It’s not, it’s just… I wasn’t expecting a woman from your social standard to enjoy reading.”

“And what am I supposed to enjoy?” Y/n with a straight face, starting to feel annoyed.

“Well, I don’t know. I suppose, buy dresses, go to balls, gossip…, and drink tea…”

“Is that all a lady should do, Phillip?”

“No… I believe a woman is free to make her own choices. I just mentioned all of that due to the expectation a lady from your social standards has.” He answered respectfully before turning his face to the window like Y/n did.

“My apologies then.” The brit muttered as she fidgeted with her fingers. They stayed silent until they finally made it to the park. There was a blanket set up with food just for them. They sat down and took in the scenery for a few seconds.

“There’s some biscuits your gran said you liked.” Phillip said as he handed Y/n a plate of sugared biscuits.

“Thank you… so tell me about your family.” The brit said, making him grin. He began talking about his folks, his siblings, the place he grew up in. Phillip began to tell Y/n some of his childhood stories making her chuckle and laugh from time to time. After a few more smiles and giggles Phillip put down his bitten biscuit, thinking of a new topic.

“What about your parents?” Y/n looked at him immediately, starting to feel uneasy and nervous.

“I don’t feel quite comfortable talking about them, Phillip-“

“Well it’s just parents.”

“I don’t wish to talk about them. So please, I beg of you, do not mention them again.” The brit said strongly and her brow furrowed in annoyance and anger.

“I-I… my apologies, Y/n.”

“It’s alright.” She quickly changed the topic and they began to talk about the countries they’ve visited. They also walked around, taking in the scenery until it was time to leave. The ride back to the house was filled with more conversation and a few laughs.

“Thank you for the lovely evening, Mr. Sherrington.” Y/n smiled as Phillip walked her to the door.

“Of course, I had a great time. Take care of yourself alright?”

“Yes, you too.” She chuckled as Margaret opened the door, letting her in. The brit took off her coat and handed it to the maid, as well as her purse.

“How was it?” Her grandmother asked, walking down the stairs.

“It went well, he’s really lovely.”

“Ugh, I knew you’d like him. Keep this up and you’ll be married to a rich man very soon.” The grey haired lady walked towards the living room leaving Y/n and Margaret alone. The brit quickly turned to the maid and ran towards her.

“Margaret, I’m going to need your help. I need you to go over to the March’s house and tell Amy that I will pick her up at 12 in the afternoon. Please? Will you help me?” Y/n asked with pleading eyes as the redhead smiled slightly since she was the only servant of the house who knew about the affair.

“You know I love you girls, of course I'll help.”

“Thank you, thank you.” Y/n said as she pulled her into a tight hugh which was immediately returned.

“I’ll go now, distract your gran.” The brit nodded and walked into the living room to see the lady reading a book. Y/n sat down on the piano, beginning to play her song. Across the street, the redhead knocked on the door. It opened to reveal Jo.

“You must be Ms. Amy’s sister. I’m Margaret, Ms. Y/n’s maid. She asked me to come here and talk to her.”

“I’ll go get her. Amy!” She shouted up the stairs, after a few seconds a blonde walked down.

“What?” Amy asked, standing next to Jo and moving her eyes towards the redhead.

“Margaret… What are you doing here? Is everything alright? Is Y/n okay?”

“She’s fine Ms. Amy. She asked to come here to tell you that her carriage will come by tomorrow at 12 in the afternoon.” Before the blonde could answer, the redhead looked back at the house across the street and back at the sisters.

“I have to get going but I hope you both have a lovely time tomorrow. Goodnight.” Margaret said and turned around, beginning to run back towards the house. Once inside the house, she nodded at Y/n signalling her that Amy knew about the next day.

The next morning Y/n was well rested. Her heart felt content knowing she was going to see Amy in a few hours. Margaret dressed her in a yellow dress and pinned half her hair up with a few braids, letting her curls cascade down her back.

“You let your hair down.” The grey haired lady pointed out as Y/n sat next to her at the dining table.

“I did. Thought I’d try something different today.” She smiled and lifted her teacup to her lips, drinking the warm beverage.

“Looks lovely.” The lady muttered, moving her eyes back to the newspaper.

“Thank you.” Y/n replied as she smiled to herself. She spent the rest of her morning in the library, looking for a new book to read. The y/h/c wanted to take one with her so she could share it with Amy. It was finally time to leave, causing her smile to grow and grow by the second. After a few seconds she was in front of the March’s, poking her head out of the carriage as the blonde opened the door.

“Are you ready, your majesty?” Y/n smiled as Amy smiled back with a small giggle.

“For you, I always am.” The blonde closed the door behind her and walked towards the carriage where the footman helped her get on. They were finally alone in the carriage, sitting next to each other as they suddenly felt nervous.

“I love your hair like that.” Amy said, smiling as she grabbed Y/n’s hand.

“You do? I thought I'd try something different. It’s been a long time since I've let it down like this.” The y/h/c said as she twirled a curl around her finger.

“You should wear it like this more often.” The blonde said as she moved some curls over the girl’s shoulder.

The carriage began to move and they continued to admire each other. Amy placed her hand on Y/n’s cheek, rubbing her thumb on it against it as the brit leaned into her palm. They stared between their eyes and lips as they both leaned in slowly. Their lips came together in a sweet slow kiss. Amy’s free hand cupped Y/n’s other cheek, pulling her closer. It grew more passionate as the brit gripped the back of the blonde’s neck, feeling hungrier and hungrier for each other.

Their tongues fought for dominance before they both parted to catch some air. Amy lowered her head and began to kiss Y/n’s neck making her breaths heavier. The blonde bit, sucked and licked on the soft skin making the y/h/c blush heavily, starting to feel hot.

“Amy..” Y/n moaned as she threw her head back, feeling the blonde’s lips kiss the top of her breasts.

“You… taste… so… good…” Amy said as she kissed a piece of skin with every word she said. She reached the y/h/c’s lips and kissed her again before the brit moved her lips to the blonde’s breasts. Y/n bit and sucked on the skin wanting to create hickies. Her breathing became heavy as she closed her fist around the brit’s hair.

“Oh God…” Amy threw her head back as Y/n’s lips kissed up her neck to bite her jawline. Their lips came together again in a passionate kiss, tongues going crazy as they mixed together. They parted with their foreheads together as they tried to catch their breath. Amy was going to lean in once again when the carriage came to a stop making them sit normally again. The footman opened the door and held out his hand to support the girls as they climbed out. They began to walk towards the park, quickly disappearing among the crowd to walk around the lake.

“How did it go with Phillip?” Amy asked as they walked close to each other, holding the urge to connect their hands.

“It was alright. He talked about himself more since I closed off when he asked about my parents.”

“What happened to your parents?” Y/n took a deep breath as she stopped walking while staring at the sky. Amy stopped and stood in front of her, giving her time to gather her thoughts.

“They’re dead. They were killed when I was a little girl, that’s why I was raised by my grandmother.”

“Forgive me for asking.”

“Love, it’s alright. I was going to tell you sooner or later.” Y/n said, giving Amy a small smile. They walked around for some time until they found an open field, away from everyone. It was the perfect moment for them to touch. They immediately held hands and ran down the grassy fields, beginning to play tag. Amy laughed hysterically as Y/n tripped over her shoes while running away from the blonde. Once they got tired, they looked for a tree and sat on the ground. Amy sat against the trunk while Y/n laid her head on her lap, staring at the leaves and back at the field. The blonde’s fingers ran through the y/h/c curls, taking in their softness.

“Amy?”

“Yes?”

“I’m in love with you.” Y/n said, staring into Amy’s green eyes as she sat there stunned. The brit got anxious and quickly sat up, turning to her.

“I apologize for that, I beg for your forgiveness.”

“Y/n, calm down. I’m in love with you as well.” Amy said with her hand on Y/n’s cheeks making the brit let out a breath of relief. They both leaned in and kissed, feeling their hearts swell with joy.

After their date, Y/n took Amy back home, kissing all the way there. Everything getting heated again, of course. They kissed before the blonde got out of the carriage, neither of them wanting to part. The March sisters were staring out the window as the lovers kissed goodbye making Y/n wave at them. The brit made it into her home with a bright smile on her face as she remembered the feeling of Amy’s lips on her skin. She was about to walk up the stairs when she saw Phillip and her grandmother in the living room.

“Oh Phillip, I did not know you were coming today.” He remained with a straight face as well as her grandmother who moved to become angry.

“Is everything alright? Granny?” Y/n asked as she fidgeted with her fingers while walking towards them.

“You’re a disgrace to this family.” The lady muttered, making the brit furrow her brows in confusion.

“Gran, I don’t-“

“Phillip saw you today… with Amy March… kissing.” Y/n’s face went into immediate fear as she felt like she couldn’t breath.

“Granny, I-“ She was quickly shut up with a loud slap against her cheek, making her face turn to the side.

“You’ll never see that girl again. You’re to marry Phillip next month.”

“I don’t want to marry Phillip.”

“You will marry him. I don’t care what your thoughts are.” The lady began to walk towards the stairs as Y/n anger grew.

“You can’t make me marry someone I don’t love! Just because you married someone you didn’t love doesn’t mean you have to do that with me!” The brit shouted, making her grandmother immediately turn to her to walk towards her and slapped her across the face. Y/n touched her lip and saw red on her fingertips. Suddenly, her grandmother gripped her hair harshly causing her to shout in pain.

“I don’t care if I have to drag you to the church myself. You’re going to marry Phillip and I don’t care how you feel about it.” She said with gritted teeth and let go of Y/n’s hair harshly making her fall to the ground. The brit turned her head to see the british man standing there with a devilish smirk.

“You’re a pig.” She whimpered, standing up from the floor as he chuckled.

“Darling, I’m not the one who dishonored my family.”

“I can’t believe I began to think you were a good person…” Y/n almost whispered as she walked closer to him, looking up at him due to the slight height difference.

“I don’t care how much money you may give my family but I won’t bear your heirs… I won’t let you touch me.” His face transformed into anger as his hand flew to Y/n’s neck, gripping it tightly. Phillip began to tighten his hand more and more every second, cutting off her air.

“You will be mine, Y/n… you will be mine and you will have my heirs whether you like it or not…because that’s what a lady is meant to do.” He muttered with gritted teeth, watching as a tear ran down her cheek. He harshly pecked her lips and let go of her neck, making her fall as she coughed dryly trying to breathe again.

“I hope you take this time to shape into the perfect wife for me because we’ll be leaving for London after the wedding… don’t expect to come back.” and with that, Phillip walked out leaving Y/n whimpering on the floor as she began to cry. She kept crying the whole night, even when Margaret gave her a bath. The brit laid her head on her knees as the redhead scrubbed her back.

“You will get to see her again.”

“When?” Y/n sniffled, turning to Margaret who reflected her sad eyes.

“How, Margaret? I won’t be able to see the love of my life for Lord knows how long. I swear to you… I’ll go insane.” She said as she held her forehead with her palms.

“I’m not supposed to do this but I’ll whisper it in case your grandmother has listeners.” Margaret whispered into the brit’s ear as she continued to run the water over the body.

“Go write a letter for her and I’ll deliver it when I can.”

“You would do that?” Y/n asked as she sniffled, feeling a glimpse of hope in her heart.

“I will but I’ll give it to her when I can. I don’t know how long it may be.”

“It’s alright… It’s alright… Thank you, Margaret.” The redhead nodded, giving the brit a slight smile. Once out of the bath and in her sleeping gown, Y/n sat down and began to write.

‘My dearest Amy,

My grandmother found out about us. Phillip told her. I won’t be able to see you or write to you, possibly ever again. I’m not allowed outside the house anymore. Margaret may be my only messenger right now and this will possibly be the last time she’ll be able to do this.

The wedding is in a month. Of course, it is all against my will and I'm not sure what to do. Phillip told me we’ll be leaving for London after the wedding…

I will forever be in love with you, Amy March. I will think of you every second of every day for as long as I live. I beg of you, please don’t forget me. We’ll meet again, my love. Someday. I’ll love you for all eternity.

Forever yours, Y/n.’

Amy fell to the ground, tears running down her cheeks as her cries became louder. Her sisters burst into the room quickly cradling the blonde who was crying hysterically as she clenched the letter over her chest. The love of her life was being ripped away from her. Thanks to social standards and roles.

So close, yet so far away. Both women cried themselves to sleep that night, feeling impotence and out of control. As if they were reaching out and the more they reached the farther they were. Wanting, desiring nothing more than to be holding each other, forever.

#amy march x fem! reader #amy march x reader #amy march smut #amy march angst #amy march fluff #amy march imagine #amy march #little women #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh

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butcheranons · 3 years

Text

Bad Influence

summary: You love Bad more than anything else; well, maybe not as much as The Egg, but he’s up there.

Unbeknownst to you, he hides his true nature with the kindest human eyes you’d ever seen.

word count: 2.8k

A/N: this was once a drabble 👍 👍 (no beta we die like wilbur)

warnings: unprotected sex, somewhat exhibitionism (if you count the egg as a voyeur), overstimulation, breeding kink if you squint, too many pet names.

anatomy: gender neutral

“Bit higher," You raise your hands along with your words, guiding the two men holding the decorative banner. “Perfect.“

“Where do these chairs go?” Turning your head at the new voice, you frown at the state of the furniture.

“What are these?”

“Dinner chairs.”

“They sure don’t like the ones I ordered.”

“What? They’re exactly as you requested, black dining chairs with red cushioning.”

“Red?!” You scoff, “I ordered black iron with crimson cushions! This is cherry! What are we? A picnic?!” You roll your eyes.

“C’mon, no one will notice the difference, just take these we have a lot of work to do.”

Your neck snaps at the sound, raised eyebrows as you hum, expecting him to say something else, but alas, he doubled down.

"I said: Just take em', we have five other deliveries today."

"What?!" There's this little pang of annoyance that sets on your nape, leaving your muscles sore at the thought of having to deal with lazy workers. "I have paid upfront."

He rolls his eyes.

"You insolent little thing..." Gritting your teeth, you look around before stepping forward, "Take these back or you and your bosses will hear from me. I will not let this pass. How dare you?!"

"Man... Why do you have to complicate, it's already paid for, just fuckin' take it."

"Language...!"

You hear a chime from behind and your shoulders relax, turning around there's this heat that creeps up your body when your eyes meet his.

"What's wrong, my little muffin?" His hands wrap around your waist, pulling you into his chest and letting his warmth envelop your body. He never failed to surprise you with how warm he was; constantly.

"Oh, sugar bear," You whine, tangling your fingers into his. "This is the end of the world! I asked for black iron with crimson cushioning and look at this disaster!"

He nods, a bit confused, trying to differentiate between the shades, but feeling your upsetness. "Cupcake, why don't you go manage the catering samples while I sort this out? I'm sure you will love the red velvet cake, I sure did!"

A wide smile breaks out on your lips, you give him a kiss on the cheek before running off to the kitchen, nothing but sweet red velvet cake and cherry pies on your mind. Welcomed by the scent of whipped cream and lemonade you're carried by your stomach to the caterer holding the delicacies.

Your tasting is interrupted by the loud banging of metal outside and you consider scolding your lazy workers, but give your attention to the cake samples instead.

You're sampling the chocolate red velvet with cherry frosting when Bad bursts through the doors, wiping his face with the crimson handkerchief you'd gifted him last anniversary. A sweet smile fills your face, "Honeypie, try this one!"

When his eyes meet yours, your heart fills with a sugary coating that seeps through your veins and directly into your brain, "I've had my filling, which one is your favourite?"

Humming, you let your body rest against his, "Mhm... Chocolate is the best, by far... But lemon is so good!"

"You've got a little bit of whipped cream..." His whispers are hot against your lips before he captures them, tongue flicking across the corners and to your cheek.

The heat in your body is noticeable.

"Thanks..."

"Mhm... This one is the best."

You giggle, slapping his chest, "You're so corny–"

"Only for you, my little blueberry muffin."

When the workers leave, the hall is a dazzling ruby tone all over, the vines seem to almost glow in pride, cascading from the ceiling like a blood waterfall. You wade through the floor they carefully polished, carpet over the dining room muffling your steps.

"Oh, it's perfect, honey bun!"

Bad gleams in joy, rushing to your side, admiring you almost as much as he adores the vines. "I was worried they wouldn't make it in time, but it's perfect."

"What about the mechanisms?"

"Ah, yes, Ant did a great job, come, look..." He holds your hand, pulling you through the hallway leading to the the egg. "We'll have them step right here," pointing to a large tile on the ground, he pulls a lever, which quickly raises it about two feet above your head. "And then it's just, wack!" His hands swing around in an attack motion and you smile.

Your heart palpitates at the thoughts of watching the sacrifice, having the best seat. From the raised position, the blood would splatter all over the watchers, a cloud of beautiful crimson falling at their heads.

"Oh...my almond cookie, this is beautiful! The Egg will be so proud!"

Bad chuckles at your praise, letting himself blush. He pulls the lever to lower back the platform as to leave everything in place.

You take a step forward, the heels of your shoes announce your movement. Standing at the centre, you face the egg, an unnatural warmth fills your chest. You pull at your blouse to appease your brain, though you know it wouldn't help. When your eyes meet Bad's, you can see his breath hitch, he makes it out as a cough.

"Join me, sugar bear!" You reach out your arms, eyes reflecting the red of everything around you.

Bad doesn't hesitate to follow your orders, pulling the lever and running across to catch the platform as it rises above the ground. You catch him in your arms, hands gliding across his chest and nape, he shivers under your touch.

"Do you want to give The Egg a show, muffin?'

Your pulse is so fast you believe anyone would be able to hear it, human or not. "Yes..." You nod, voice too breathless for the lack of action. The smile that catches his lips is almost demonic, and your chest craves him. His hands tease at your chest and you melt into his touch, "Please..."

"If you ask so nicely..." His whispers fall deaf in your ears but cut deep into your skin, burrowing in goosebumps along your body. "...Then I can't refuse."

When your lips meet his, it's sweet.

Sweeter than anything else you could ever wish for and you want to get lost in his kisses.

He holds you gently, but below the delicate fingers, there's this firmness that makes your heart stop. You know no one else could ever pry you off his arms and you're not opposed to the idea of being with him, on him 24/7.

Tongue exploring your mouth, you moan, hands occupied with fistfuls of his white dress shirt. You tug at the golden buttons, wanting nothing but to feel his chest on yours, let his body heat consume you and lull you into comfort.

"Do you trust me, muffin?"

You nod, your eyes glazed in lust can barely focus on his at this point. Bad smiles, placing a kiss on your forehead, he inhales your taste, your scent, your everything.

And then, he pushes you off the platform.

You feel the way your heart immediately jumps at the sight of danger, there's this cold that pools in your stomach and runs through your body, lowering your body temperature.

And before you know, you... fall?

But you don't meet the ground.

When you open your eyes, you're met with the under view of Bad's prideful grin. The vines around your arms feel hot, too hot. But they lift you up until you're in his reach again.

"Hi..." You breathe out, your heart still too unsettled to spot pounding in your chest.

You thought you'd die, or at least, get badly injured. Not that you didn't trust him, but maybe he made some errors in his calculations.

But then, again, if he wished for you to fall without the vines this time, you probably would.

And Bad pulls you in his arms, nose brushing against yours and you wonder how would ever doubt your little muffin?

"Did I scare you too much?" He caresses your cheeks, brushing your hair away from your face with so much adoration in his eyes you feel like a deity.

"No... just a little jumpscare."

He chuckles, kissing your nose softly, "Good."

You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck, letting his body flush against yours and fit you so perfectly. But you know you wish for a little bit more; after so much adrenaline, you feel some little... cravings.

And as if he read your mind, his hands wander your body, reaching for your waist with a little bit more force than usual. His fingers have no difficulty taking care of your belt or pants, he picked them out, anyway.

You let yourself loose in his kisses, your own fingers lost in his hair, pulling around the corners you know he likes a bit too much just so you get to hear his sugary moans. You devour each and every noise that escapes his throat.

Before you know, he’s got you in just your underwear. His lips leave yours for a second to take your hand and spin you around.

You don’t let go of the glisten in his eyes as he looks you up and down, tongue grazing over his lips hungrily. He could eat you up and it’d never be enough. No time with you would ever be enough.

Bad spins you just enough so now you’re facing the egg once again, back pressed tightly to his chest. His breathing bounces off your neck, making you swallow dry, hands nervous down your sides, wanting to touch him and feel him up—

“Look at how pretty you are, my little peanut,” His tongue glides along your cheek to reach your earlobe. “The Egg is so pleased with how beautiful you are... Let’s show your even prettier faces, should we?”

You nod, melting into his arms as his hands graze along your body; from your chest to your waist to your hips. His long fingers play with the band of your underwear, torturing you just so he can have the little whines that escape your throat unconsciously. When you reach behind your shoulder to pull and tangle his hair he chuckles along your skin.

His fingers are on you, skilfully reaching for the most sensitives places of your body. And you arch into his touch, leaving your neck fully exposed for him to nibble and suckle.

Your skin, otherwise perfect, is blemished with the traces of him.

Your lips crash against his, this time, more passionate than ever, all while his fingers don't lose their pace.

You're near your climax, your stomach churning around his fingers but it's worthless coming if it's not on him.

"Bad... Pudding, I need you..." It's a needy half-moan.

"Tell me the magic word, bombon..." His lips graze along your shoulder and you know, you feel it in your back how much he needs you, too. His face is completely flushed, the heat spread across his cheeks only rival your own heat, throbbing and needy.

"Please, baby, please... Give me–.... Please, I need you. Fuck me–"

The lustful smirk that takes over is by far not of his nature but you were his little bad influence.

"Mhmm..." Bad sings along your skin, one hand placed over your stomach and another on your shoulder blades.

He bends you over, the vines quickly tightening their grip over your arms; letting you hang as if you were laying down. While busy with his buckle and pants, he let his eyes fuck you over and over, the way your back looks to him, the faint red glow that touches your skin; You turn your head around and there's this lust, this yearning that grows on your belly.

Because Bad's otherwise kind, honey-brown eyes have now turned a devilish crimson.

His hands are rough when they pull off his pants, soon, coming around his cock, rock-solid and bright red. You wrongly assumed it might have been the redness of the room bouncing off his pale skin. There's a part of your brain that believes he's even bigger than you remembered though you chuck it to the amount of time it has been since your last.

You watch the inhuman amount of precum that drips from his glande and over his fingers, your mouth watering, tongue unconsciously running over your lips. Your reaction makes him chuckle.

Positioning himself at your entrance, his other hand leaves marks across your hips, holding you more firmly than he'd ever had. Not that you were complaining.

The tip goes in effortlessly, leaving behind this stretch that fills every particle of your being and clouds your thoughts with the ache of his cock. You hear him hiss, hands curling around your skin, leaving fingerprints all over. You're sure you will be admiring them tomorrow.

"So tight–" He hisses once again, "So, so tight– Just for me..."

Your eyes are rolling around in their sockets when he finally bottoms out, seemingly infinite in your canal. His fingers drag along your spine, ever so kindly letting you adjust before moving, even if his instincts are begging him otherwise.

When the expansion settles, you're unknowingly rolling your hips toward his, the grip of the vines making it harder to take control. But he lets ouch a soft chuckle, an adoring look sweeps his eyes for a second, so proud of your boldness. You were always a go-getter.

He is painfully slow, taking in every second of it, hitting your walls with a determination that makes you moan out incoherent strings of what you believed were words.

The sounds that erupt from his throat are feral and inhuman by nature, settling in every inch of your bones and activating your flight or flee instincts. You wondered if the third instinct was fuck.

Your chest dips down, the vines now holding your arms above your head while Bad's grip on your hips don't falter, instead, the new angle allowing him to speed up his thrusts; not losing any of the strength. Your brain is filled only by him and how amazing he feels in you.

He moans your name along with praises of how well you're taking him and you wonder just how in the world could he make such a sinful sequence of words sound so heavenly. Alas, you don't give much thought, your brain once again being quickly clouded with his cock and only his cock.

Bad pulls your waist, letting your back meet his chest. This position only heightens every touch of his, you’re so close, so warm, so good...

"The Egg isn't liking how quiet you are, sugar plum..."

You smile, stuck between watching the hypnotic crimson and the eyes of your adoring lover that swallows your moans.

His name leaves your lips like a prayer,

You will show The Egg how good Bad is to you.

"Bad, honey– Uh– I'm–"

"I know, muffin," His whispers are a caress along your ears, lulling you into your release.

You scream his name, the moans bouncing off the spongy walls of the cave and returning to your ears, you feel the way his grip tightens around your hips, the way you're milking him doesn't help how hard he's trying to hold back, prolong his time with you as much as he can.

"You're so good for me, just one more, babycakes..."

Every inch of your skin feels hot to the touch, even more than before. It's like you're on fire and freezing cold at the same time, each part that touches his body is a million times more sensitive. You feel each and every millimetre of his moves, the pleasure echoing around your body in waves.

"I don't know if I can." You shake your head, barely being able to think at this point, overwhelmed by the pleasure.

"Shh... You can, you're so good for me... So tight... You take me so well."

"Fill me up, pumpkin... Please, fill me up to the brim, let me feel you–", you moan, "–Fill me up so much I'm dripppin'!"

Oh, your Bad was too good for you.

His words are what tip you over the edge, getting him to catch his own climax. His hands don't leave your body, his lips coming to kiss all over your neck and jaw.

You melt into his touch, the vines releasing your arms and legs so you can collapse into him. He catches your body, coming to a sit and letting you sprawl over his chest, your hands reaching out to caress his hair.

"My little naughty cookie, if you spill one drop I'll have to fill you all over again..."

You giggle into his kisses, "Oh, no!" you exclaim sarcastically, giggling in between your words. He laughs, kissing your cheeks and forehead and everywhere he can get his lips on. Because you deserve so much, heavens, you're just perfect and you take him so well and you were made for him–

You feel loved.

You watch the glow of the vines brighten for a second and you both hum knowingly.

The Egg has been fed.

After all, there is a reason why orgasms were called "The little death."

#c: badboyhalo #mcyt smut #k: breeding #k: exhibitionism #k: overstimulation #the egg is packing #canonically besties its packing

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ticketstomydaydreams · 3 years

Text

5:3666

(All We Have: Part Two)

Part One

Colson x Female Reader

Summary: You and Colson fall into a night time studio routine when he starts keeping you company through your insomnia and you decide to work though some past demons

Word count: 3,200 (ish, I lost count editing)

Feels: Fluff with a dash of past trauma

Warnings: Drug & alcohol consumption, domestic violence, cursing, Colson being so sweet it almost makes your teeth hurt

Companion playlist:

Machine Gun Kelly - 5:3666

Warren Zevon - I'll Sleep When I'm Dead

The Vamps - All Night

Halsey - You Should Be Sad

A/N: If you've been affected by anything in this story, please know you're not alone. My inbox is always open and I'm all ears 🖤

______

During the first couple of weeks of moving in, you’d been partying A LOT. The guys wanted to show you just how mad it got, breaking you into their chaotic household, blending the days together. Everyone was hyper and the house was buzzing with energy. You'd been so exhausted from all of it that you'd been all but passing out each night, but you couldn’t lie, it was great fun.

You’d tried to pass on a few nights but Colson would never hear of it, often forcing you out of your room to get involved as the house was filled with people, jam sessions taking place in between drinking games. It was a far cry from your usual homelife, your last housemate mainly kept to themselves so your place was normally pretty chilled. Colson had used your place as a quiet escape over the years, but it seemed you wouldn’t have the same set up extended to you here with this lot.

With the pandemic unfolding, the house had started getting quieter, less people in and out every night and everyone was settling into a lazier way of life. The gang were mooching around the house throughout the day and while the house was still lively at night, it wasn’t quite the party central you’d almost started getting used to. Your normal working routine went out the window as everyone had started working from home mainly and without your daily routine, followed by nights out partying, your insomnia was back with full force.

______

You were lying in your bed, trying to force sleep on yourself but after trying to nod off for a couple of hours, you accepted defeat and got back up. Throwing some sweats on and one of Colson’s huge hoodies (you’d been slowly sneaking them out of his closet, finding that the masses of material drowning your small frame were super comforting), you headed down to the kitchen, turned the stove on and filled the kettle up. You were scrolling through your phone when you heard footsteps on the tiled floor. Colson strolled into the kitchen looking disheveled in a white tank top and boxer shorts, hair ruffled and looking sleepy

“Dude, it’s 3am how come you’re up?”

“Couldn’t sleep, living that oh so fun insomnia life again” you sighed “Did I wake you?”

“Nah, I was already awake. Couldn’t sleep either and heard someone moving about so thought I’d come down” He replied, climbing onto one of the breakfast stools

“Yeah, I think it’s not having much of a routine. Hate lying in bed staring at the ceiling so just got up. You want a cup?” you offered, pointing to the chamomile tea you were brewing

“Sure, thanks” he says, taking the steaming mug from you

You sit down at the breakfast bar with him and start chatting, scrolling through instagram as you do. After about an hour, as you’re talking about an article you’re reading, you notice Colson doesn’t respond and you look to your right and see he’s fallen asleep, leaning on his hand, his mouth slightly ajar.

“Hey, sleeping beauty” you whisper, rubbing his back with your hand “Go to bed”

He slightly jolts at your touch, opening his eyes “Nah man, I’m keeping you company”

“Some company” you laugh softly “pretty sure you just slept through all my rambling there”

He leans against your shoulder, closing his eyes again “Hey, at least you’re not sitting here alone. That’s something right?”

“That’s true” you smile, leaning your head against his “You’re very appreciated, do you know that”

You gently push him upright and stand up “Come on, let’s go to bed. I’m pretty tired myself, so you’ve definitely helped”

He’s laid his head down on his arm on the counter, his breathing getting heavy immediately so you pull his other hand making him stand up. He stands up and puts his arm around your shoulder as you walk towards the stairs, your legs feeling heavy as you climb each step, carrying some of Colson’s weight as he sleepily walks with you

Once you’re standing outside your bedroom doors, he pulls you in for a hug

“Night kid, don’t be wandering around bored if you can’t sleep yeah? Just come get me. Nothing worse than sitting up alone at night…”

“Will do. Thanks Col” You squeeze him a bit tighter as he kisses the top of your head

“Night” you smile, as he let’s you go and turns and heads into his room, waving his hand up behind him

Undressing and crawling into bed, your eyes feel heavy as your head hits the pillow. Colson was right, insomnia was a much less lonely experience with a friend.

______

Of course, as is always the way after your sleepless nights, you sleep in super late the following day meaning the cycle continues and you find yourself wide awake as the witching hour approaches. Feeling restless in your bedroom, you get up, and decide to head downstairs and out into the studio because you figure you might as well put this time to good use. You settle into a chair with your acoustic guitar and started playing, stopping and starting as you figure out a melody, working your latest lyrics in with it

“I wanna start this out and say, I gotta get it off my chest. Got no anger, got no malice…”

“I thought I told you to come get me if you couldn’t sleep”

You almost drop your guitar as you hear Colson’s voice behind you, “Jesus, how are you such an enormous human but you still manage to creep up on me all the time?”

“Just a stealthy motherfucker I guess” He laughs, flopping into the chair next to you

“Whatcha working on? That sounded sweet, keep playing…”

Colson knows you sometimes get a bit self-conscious with people watching you sing, so he lights his joint, rests his head on his hand and closes his eyes. You smile as you see what he's doing, thankful he always understands what you're like.

You turn back to your notepad, reading over your lyric outline quickly before repositioning the guitar in your lap and resetting the metronome

___

‘I wanna start this out and say, I gotta get it off my chest

Got no anger, got no malice, Just a little bit of regret

No, nobody else will tell you, so there's some things I gotta say

Gonna jot it down and then get it out and then I'll be on my way

No, you're not half the man you think that you are

And you can't fill the hole inside of you with money, drugs, and cars

I'm so glad I never ever had a baby with you

'Cause you can't love nothing unless there's something in it for you

Oh, I feel so sorry, I feel so sad

I tried to help you, it just made you mad

And I had no warning about who you are

I'm just glad I made it out without breaking down

And then ran so fuckin' far, that you would never ever touch me again

Won't see your alligator tears

'Cause, no, I've had enough of them’

___

“Man, that was beautiful Y/N. I got some chills right there…You just wrote that?”

“Nah, it’s something I dug up from ‘back then’. Been going through some old lyrics and samples while we’ve got all this time on our hands. It’s kinda cathartic to go over some of that stuff now there’s a bit more distance you know”

______

A couple of years ago, you’d been stuck in a really toxic relationship with your ex, Stevie. Your time with him had been a tornado of arguments, drugs and the constant heartache of him cheating on you. Every time you’d get close to having the strength to leave, you’d always cave in and the mess would continue with you losing a bit of yourself each time you stayed. You’d become pretty used to his violent outbursts, he had always been controlling and short tempered, often pushing you and throwing stuff around your apartment. Despite his own frequent infidelity, he flew into a jealous rage with you constantly.

He’d always hated Colson, despite him being one of your best friends, and while he’d play nice to his face you’d always get it in the neck once you were alone about how you and Colson were ‘too close’ and he ‘didn’t trust him’. Before that final night you’d spent with him, things had been pretty good with the two of you for a few weeks, there hadn’t been much drama and so you hadn’t thought too much of inviting him out with you and the gang for a night out clubbing. Your good run had clearly come to an end, when you felt his hand grab your arm tightly and drag you off the dancefloor where you’d been dancing with Colson. You’d been bundled into an uber so quickly, you hadn’t even managed to get your handbag from inside. You saw Colson running out of the club, followed by Rook and Slim who was holding your bag, as the cab pulled away.

Once you were back at the apartment, he flew into a rage. You’d never seen him this bad before, his eyes were dark and when you tried to argue back, calling his jealousy ‘pathetic’ he snapped. He’d grabbed you by the throat and slammed you against the wall, “Don’t you ever disrespect me like that again” he’d spat in your face, before striking you so hard with his fist that the skin across your cheek split open. It was as if his actions had knocked him back to reality, he’d let go of you and you ran to your bedroom, locked the door behind you and started packing a bag. He hammered on the door, begging you to open it and you could hear that he was crying. You looked around for your phone before you remembered you’d left it at the club. Desperate to get away, you opened your laptop and brought up instagram, managing to send Colson a message asking him to send you an uber to his house straight away. You’d thrown your laptop and a few more bits in your bag, the battery dying before you had a chance to wait for a reply, before pulling the bedroom door open and barging past Stevie. He’d tried to grab you, but you’d finally had enough “Never fucking touch me again” you spat, pushing him off you. The hatred in your voice rooted him to the spot and he said nothing as you walked out, the door slamming behind you.

Once you were outside the apartment building, the reality of what had just happened and the situation you were in started to wash over you. You had no phone, no wallet, your laptop was dead. Just as you were starting to seriously panic, an uber pulled up and Colson had leapt out of the backseat. You’d been in total shock and had just let Colson guide you into the cab and then out into his house, up to his room. He didn’t say anything as he led you to his bathroom and lifted you up onto the counter. He grabbed a flannel and soaked it with warm water, rinsing it out before pressing it softly against the cut on your cheek, gently wiping away the blood that had mixed with your mascara laced tears. The tenderness of his actions was almost too much and you started to sob again.

“Hey, hey. Y/N, look at me” he said softly, lifting your chin so you looked at him, his blue eyes misty themselves “It’s okay, you’re safe here. Don’t move, I’ll be back in a sec”

He left the bathroom and returned with a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. Putting them on the counter next to you, he crouched down and undid the straps on your heels, slipping them off your feet and then helping you down from the counter. “I’ll leave you to change”

When you came out of the bathroom, Colson was lying in his bed “Come here” he said, holding his arm and beckoning into his side. You crawled under the covers next to him and snuggled into him, his long arms wrapping around you.

“Col…” you said quietly

“Yeah?” he whispered back, stroking your hair off your forehead

“Thank you…”

“You don’t need to thank me. I’ve always got you Y/N”

______

“I hated that fucking guy. That night...I wanted to kill him after what he’d done to you”

You see him tense up at the memory and you lean over and squeeze his knee “You’re such an amazing friend, do you know that. I don’t know what I would’ve done that night without you”

"You're a fucking warrior Y/N, you'd have handled your shit. I was just happy you trusted me enough to let me be there for you. You deserve so much better than that" he says, covering the hand you'd placed on his knee with his, staring you in the eyes and returning the smile that's crept across your face

"You know there's been a few punches I've wanted to dole out on behalf of you over the years, but you've never let me" you tell him

"Too right I'd never let you. I never want you in the drama, you're too good for getting caught up in that shit" he replies, pointing at you with mock sternness

"Hey" he says, seeing your expression wash over with a tint of sadness "At least the sleepless nights aren't what they were then…

… If we're gonna work through some old demons this lockdown, I'm sure I've got some songs and lyrics that have never seen the light of day" He reaches over the desk and pulls his laptop towards him "You've inspired me… "

"Oh no, are we gonna fuck our heads up with this?" you joke nervously, worrying that Colson's going to delve into something that's going to upset him

"Nah, I got you covered and you got me, right?"

"True dat" you say, as he holds his fist out so you can fistbump, his eyes now focused on his laptop screen

______

You felt kinda bad, having kept Colson up all night with you the last two nights, especially as you'd got him reminiscing about some tough memories, so tonight you tried to sneak past his room when your restlessness got the better of you.

"Nice try kid!" Colson says as he throws his bedroom door open, causing you to yelp in fright. standing there topless with his sweatpants hung low in his hips, he lights the joint hanging from his mouth "I told you we were in this together now"

"I felt bad, making you stay up with me"

"You didn't make me do shit…Wait a sec, let me find a hoodie. If I have any left in here…" he says, giving a pointed look towards the huge blue hoodie you were wrapped in before walking back into his room and rummaging through his drawers

"Oh shush, you have like a hundred…"

"Right come on" he says, pulling a pink hoodie over his head and flipping the hood up over his messy hair "Let's see what we get into tonight…"

______

And so the nights went on like this, the two of you falling into an easygoing studio routine. If there wasn't anything else going on in the house, you'd eat dinner together then head to the studio and work through the night into the small hours, skipping out the pretense of trying to sleep. You were both pretty productive at this time it seemed, both being proclaimed night owls, and keeping busy during these uncertain times was keeping your minds off the unfolding pandemic.

Considering he’d referred to his home studio in the past as the ‘rage cage’ (and it certainly could still be party central when the entire crew got involved), it was actually a place you drifted towards to relax these days. You’d always worked well together in a studio, but over the weeks spending so much time just the two of you, you became more in tune with each other, noticing when one of you had hit a wall and it was time for bed. Sometimes you'd work in comfortable silence, side by side, engrossed in your own seperate tasks. Sometimes barely any work would get done as you put the world to rights talking about anything and everything in a late night impromptu therapy session.

This evening, you'd been sitting cross legged in your chair for hours now, focusing so hard on editing a song which was driving you mad, you hadn't realised your feet had gone numb. As you try to move, your knees crack and pins and needles shoot through your legs. Colson looks up from the screen he'd been engrossed in after hearing you groan and sees you rubbing your feet trying to bring back the feeling to them

‘C’mere’ he said, before turning his chair towards you and leaning down to grab your legs, bringing your feet up onto his lap. He pulls your socks off and begins massaging your feet. You lean your head back, eyes closed and let out a long ‘hmmm’. You don’t see Colson glancing over at you and shifting in his seat as he lets out slow breath before turning back to his screen

“Now this is the kind of work session I could get used to”, you sighed "You being my studio bitch on hand for foot rubs. Although, I imagine this enjoyment goes both ways Mr Foot Lover” you tease, throwing him an exaggerated wink

Colson throws his head back with a hearty chuckle, and light heartedly slaps your calf

"Keep it in your pants Y/N"

You laugh and wiggle your toes, Colson letting out a dramatic, throaty groan in response. "Those are some sexy little toes though" he states, sticking his tongue out.

Still laughing, you put your hand to your chest, and gasp as you feign prudishness and try to pull your feet away. He grabs both your feet in one of his hands, keeping them in place then leans over the desk and pulls your laptop towards you

"Get on with some work you, this is supposed to be keeping you motivated, not distracted"

He scolds affectionately, with a smile on his face

“Okay, okay, spoilsport” you grumble as you pull your computer onto your lap

Half an hour passes, your legs still on Colson’s lap with him still massaging your feet absentmindedly with one hand while he works, and your eyes begin to feel heavy. You don’t realise you’ve fallen asleep, until you’re awoken by a “woah” from Colson as he catches your laptop which is about to fall. Taking it from your lap, he states “Right, time for bed you”

You check your phone and see it’s already 5:36am.

You stand up and stretch then walk over behind Colson, putting your arms around his shoulders, and resting your chin on his head. Looking at his screen, you yawn “You got much left to do?”

He leans back into you, bringing his hand up to rest on your arm, “Making some good progress so just gonna finish a couple of bits”

“Okay dude” you gently kiss the top of his head and squeeze the back of his neck a couple of times as you turn to leave “Try and get some rest, we’ve got a long day of sweet fuck all to do tomorrow” you say through another big yawn

“Heh yeah, Night Kid” he says softly, letting out a yawn himself. Colson turns and watches you head out of the studio and lets out a big sigh. Feeling the back of his neck still tingle from where you’d squeezed it, he’s suddenly aware of how empty the room feels without you in it....

______

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Lace Up! ❌❌

#colson baker imagine #colson baker x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #mgk imagine #mgk x reader #mgk fluff #mgk smut #Colson Baker #colson baker smut #Mgk #machine gun kelly #mgk fanfiction #Mgk fic #Colson fic #Colson imagine

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Lost and Found

Prompt: Hello, you can ignore this but can you write Logince hurt/comfort?

look there's been too much character angst in my notes recently so I'm giving you no-one-is-at-fault-sweet-protective-boys h/c tonight

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none!

Pairings: logince can be platonic or romantic i don't care I'm to aroace to parse out which is which

Word Count: 3116

He’d just wanted to find Roman.

Or, Logan gets lost in the Imagination looking for Roman when the weather takes a turn.

He’d just wanted to find Roman.

Logan grits his teeth against the wind as he pushes further into the Imagination. His glasses get knocked askew by a particularly enthusiastic burst of wind and he winces, fixing them before shaking his head at himself.

“This isn’t real,” he mutters, still pushing forward, “this is the Imagination. It isn’t real. Nothing can really hurt me here.”

And Roman would never hurt me.

Logan turns. And turns. And turns. Where did he come from again?

Ah, yes, there’s the broken tree branch he stumbled into when he came into the clearing. That’s where he came from. So, logically, he should turn so that is at his back before continuing. Yes, that’s what he should do.

So he does, turning so that the tree branch is behind him and walking forward. Well, stumbling forward. There’s something wrong with his shoes, he decides as he looks down and sees his legs perfectly intact. Perhaps they are not ideal for slogging through windy forests. Which, alright, he cannot be fully blamed for, he was not intending on going on a quest today—he just wants to find Roman. They have plans today and they’d both been looking forward to them. So he needs to find Roman. Yes, that’s what he needs to do.

…where is Roman, again?

Logan frowns, still trying to hold his glasses in place against the wind that—if he were someone else, he would say it seems determined to strip him of them. But that’s ridiculous. Wind doesn’t have emotions or goals, and this wind isn’t real.

But then would that mean that it could have emotions or goals?

He shakes again and walks forward, narrowly dodging a broken tree branch. He winces as he stumbles into the trunk and narrowly avoids smashing his head into its side. He keeps going. It’s cold. It sends him more off-balance, sends him staggering into another tree. He reaches out to grip the bark and squeezes his eyes shut.

This isn’t real. I’m fine. I just need to find Roman and get out.

His fingers slip on the jagged bark as he pushes himself up. He moves forward.

Something hits his face. He flinches, hand coming up instinctively to block his path when something hits his hand. He flails, trying to swat it away, only for something else to hit his hand. And again. And again. He swipes at his face, trying to figure out what it is, what’s hitting him, only for his hand to come away damp.

Oh. It’s raining.

Indeed, his glasses become speckled with water droplets before he can fully come to this conclusion. His shirt begins to stick to his skin, his tie hangs limply, caught by the buttons. He grits his teeth anew and keeps pushing forward. Just get to Roman, just get to Roman.

…where is Roman?

Logan turns around. And turns. And turns.

He’s in a forest. Dark trees frown over him, the wind gleefully stripping bark and flinging it at him. He throws his arms up to protect his face. Rain stings as it slaps bare skin. It’s cold.

He turns once more and—

Smack!

Logan cries out as he stumbles, landing hard against the roots of a tree sprawled across the forest floor. His pants whine in protest as he collapses. His leg burns. A very quick, very absent-minded assessment says it’s not broken, not sprained, just scraped. But anything more than that would mean moving and the rain seems determined to pin him to the ground. The wind whistles against him, delighting in seeing him there, at the base of the tree, unable to move.

But he has to find Roman.

Roman will know what to do.

Roman won’t hurt him.

“Logan?” The wind starts to sound like Roman’s voice. “Logan? Logan, is that you? Logan!”

His eyes closed against the onslaught of bark, Logan reaches out, baring his arms to the wind, reaching for the voice that sounds too far away.

“Logan! Oh my stars, Logan, you’re hurt, what’re you doing here, come here—“

“R-roman?”

“Yes,” Roman says, and oh, there’s Roman, “I’m right here, my darling nerd, come on, come here, let’s just—let’s get you out of here. What are you doing here, you don’t even have a coat—“

“Thought I didn’t need one,” he slurs, belatedly realizing how warm Roman is, “not real.”

“Oh, Logan,” Roman sighs, fondness bleeding into his tone as he lifts—when did he get his arms around him?— Logan up and begins to walk, “you can’t solve all of your problems with object impermanence.”

“…watch me.”

“Gladly,” comes the murmur as a warm kiss is pressed against his forehead, “but not right now, hmm? Let’s get you warm.”

It takes a few moments of realizing that it’s over, he’s safe, he found Roman, for Logan to put the pieces together that he’s being carried out of Roman’s realm like a child.

“I can walk,” Logan protests, trying to free himself only to be thwarted by Roman’s hold, “you can put me down.”

“I’m sure I could, and I’m sure you can, sweetheart,” Roman murmurs, still walking without trying to put him down, “but you can also let me carry you.”

Logan does not pout, he doesn’t, as Roman walks them out of the Imagination. The wave of warm as they cross the threshold into Roman’s room grants him the immediate knowledge that had he been standing under his own power, the contrast would’ve sent him right back into Roman’s arms.

“Shh,” Roman says quietly when he lets out an unconscious gasp at how cold he must be, “shh, sweetheart, thankfully you’re not hypothermic. Let’s get you in the warm shower, okay?”

“No, wait—after drop, core temperature causes—“

“That’s when you’ve been swimming,” Roman corrects, still carrying Logan as they make it to the bathroom, “not out in the rain.”

“Oh.” Logan blinks. “I—didn’t mean to go swimming.”

Roman chuckles, setting him down carefully on the steps to the bathtub. He reaches up to gently take off Logan’s glasses, drying them on a soft towel and sliding them back on. Logan blinks, trying to orient himself in Roman’s bathroom.

“…has this room always been this…extravagant?”

He’s rewarded with another laugh from Roman as they look around. Really, the last time Logan remembers being in here, it had looked much like Thomas’s bathroom. Shower, mirror, toilet, sink, a few cabinets. But now—

Now he’s sitting on the steps up to a truly massive bathtub, across the room from an equally massive walk-in shower. The vanity looks large enough for him to lie across with room to spare, the two sinks just below enormous mirrors. The toilet looks like—well, a throne.

It’s a miracle of a bathroom.

“Janus helped me make it,” Roman says softly, calling his attention back with a gentle hand under his chin, “it doesn’t stay all the time, but when someone needs to be spoiled, this is what it looks like.”

“Who needs to be spoiled?”

Roman chucks him lightly under the chin. “You, sweetheart, you’re freezing. Come on, let’s get you into the shower. I’ll grab something soft for you to wear afterward.”

Logan nods, attempting to get up to do as Roman bids only to wince. Roman, turning away, immediately crouches back down, hands reaching in concern.

“Are you hurt, sweetheart,” he murmurs, looking him over, “can I help? What can I do?”

“I fell.” Logan stubbornly ignores the flush in his face as he gestures weakly toward his leg. “Tripped on a root, I think it’s scraped.”

Roman winces in sympathy, reaching to hover his hand over where Logan indicates. “Sometimes I swear those trees are trying to trip me.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of Logan’s mouth. “It’s not Remus, is it?”

Roman laughs. “No, no, when he wants you on the ground, he doesn’t stop at passively trying to trip you. Trust me.”

“Oh, I’m aware.” Roman’s hand lands on the scrape and he sucks in air through his teeth. “There.”

“Mm, I can feel how warm it is. You poor thing…alright. There’s a first aid kit in the left drawer over there—yes, that one, and the stuff in the shower is meant to be gentle. I’d avoid trying to clean it fully, that’s going to hurt, but just enough to make sure there’s nothing in the wound.”

“I understand.”

Roman pats his knee and stands. “I’ll be just outside, take as long as you need. I’ll leave the clothes on the counter, okay?”

Logan tries to look up and winces. The bright lights and the white tile make it difficult to keep his eyes open without his glasses.

“…sweetheart?”

“Can it be—“ Logan waves his hand at the ceiling— “less?”

“Of course, here—give me your hand.” Roman helps him stand, slips his arm around his waist, and guides him to the shower. He presses Logan’s hand against the wall to feel the set of light switches. “There’s one that controls all the lights, one for the overhead, one for the shower light, and one for the fan.”

Logan clicks a couple of times until he can look up again, yellow light spilling into the shower area and only the shower area. “Thank you.”

“Always.” Roman kisses the back of his hand and leaves him be.

Peeling himself out of his damp clothes takes longer than he expected, but his frustration is tempered by the knowledge that he’s here, he found Roman, Roman would never let him be hurt in his own bathroom, and that it’s okay, now.

Everything is okay.

He leaves his clothes laid out on the steps, his glasses set on the counter nearest the shower. The curtain has the same weight as a key in his hand. The warm water beats down over his shoulders, flowing softer over his leg. He can’t see it too well in the soft light, but he can make out the angry red skin and it still feels too hot to the touch. He winces as the water hits the wound, turning so it hits his head first. After a moment, he lies down, the cool tiles beneath him the perfect contrast to the pitter-patter of warm water on his front.

Logan lies there, in the warm light, soft under the water, and remembers how to breathe.

When his chest no longer aches from the cold, he stands, shutting off the water and reaching for the towels. Oh, Roman must have heated towel racks; the towel he wraps himself in is so, so, warm. A noise escapes his mouth as he walks over to the pile of clothes left on the counter. A glance over his shoulder shows Roman must’ve come in while he was drifting. His wet clothes are gone too. He reaches for the dry ones only to wince when the towel rubs against the scrape on his leg.

Right.

He turns on the brighter lights, wincing and trying to see the full scope of the injury. It doesn’t look good; he’s scraped along most of his upper thigh, red and angry and too sore for him to rest his weight on. There’s probably not much he can do. It’s not severe enough to merit a full bandage and smearing any sort of cream over that much surface area just guarantees it’ll get on something he’d rather it didn’t. He sighs and exits the bathroom only to pause.

Oh, Roman’s turned his fairy lights on.

Roman glances up from under the strings of lights hanging around his room, smiling when he sees Logan and holding out his arms. The room is dim, not too dark that he can’t see, but not bright and shining as it normally is. Roman is still in his prince costume, looking every bit like he’s stepped out of a storybook. Logan suddenly feels very underdressed in the pajama shirt and shorts.

“Come here,” Roman calls when Logan hesitates, “let me have a look at you.”

Logan moves, making to sit next to Roman when Roman stops him with a hand on his hip.

“…did you not find the first aid kit?”

Oh. “There’s not much use in it. It’s not bad enough to cover and I—“

Roman moves his hand to touch the scrape and Logan flinches. At Roman’s fond yet disappointed look, something like shame bubbles up in his chest.

“…will you help me?”

“Always,” Roman says, pushing Logan’s hip, “now lie down. I’ll be right back.”

Logan lies down, worrying a little about getting anything on Roman’s bed only for Roman to hush any protests and tuck a pillow under his head.

“Don’t strain your neck. I’ll be right here.”

Logan tries, but as soon as he feels the bed sag behind him and the clunk of the first aid kit opening he tenses.

“Roman.”

“Yes?”

“I can’t—can’t do this. Not like this.” He shakes his head. “I can’t see you. I don’t know where you’re—when you’re going to touch me.”

“Okay.” Roman moves to crouch in front of him. “I still need to be able to see your leg. Can we try something else?”

They end up with Logan resting against Roman’s shoulder, his leg across Roman’s lap. Roman takes one of Logan’s hands and rests it on his arm.

“It’s on the outside of your thigh,” he says, “so I’m going to need you to turn it or I’m going to have to lean over. Either way, I won’t always be looking at you so if you need me to stop at any time, squeeze.”

Roman won’t hurt him. Roman won’t let him be hurt. His hands are gentle as he applies the cream, strong enough to hold Logan’s leg in place without it hurting. When he brushes a raw part of the scrape and Logan hisses, he rubs soothing circles into the skin with his thumb as Logan lets out a breath over a few seconds.

“Good.”

Only when Roman starts making sure the cream is properly rubbed in does Logan realize he’s focusing more on the dry warmth of Roman’s hand than the slight sting of the cream. He’s more focused on the slight furrow of Roman’s brow than the angry red welts on his leg. He’s more focused on the way his leg rests in Roman’s lap, in Roman’s grip, Roman’s arms flexing and relaxing under his hand than the slight strain of keeping his leg turned.

Oh.

Oh, no.

Roman, of course, can feel the moment he tenses, no matter how small, stopping his motions and looking up at Logan’s face. Logan, of course, would rather Roman didn’t look at his face right now and turns away, steadfastly focusing on the wound on his leg and not the way his face heats up under Roman’s focus. But then there are fingers under his chin that turn him back to Roman’s face and that’s not fair. Roman simply raises an eyebrow, wordlessly asking in a way that ensures Logan can’t speak.

Have Roman’s eyes always been that color brown?

He can see the moment realization clicks by the way Roman’s face softens, mouth curling up in the way it does when he’s about to tease Logan for the next hour. Logan flinches only for Roman to cup the side of his face and hold him still.

“Eyes closed now, Specs,” Roman murmurs instead, thumb running over his leg.

“W-what?”

“Close your eyes,” he repeats, “let me put the bandage on and we’ll be done.”

Logan opens his mouth again but Roman raises his eyebrows.

“Closed.”

He hears the gentle pull of the tape, feels Roman’s warm hands tape the gauze in place. Feels one of Roman’s arms hook under his leg, the other around his back, hears the soft thump of the covers as Roman stands, turns, and lays him down properly. He hushes the soft noise of surprise and snaps his fingers, the prince costume turning to pajama under Logan’s hand.

“We had plans,” Logan protests blearily as he feels Roman slide his glasses off his face, “we were going to—to—“

“To what, sweetheart,” comes the murmur next to his ear when he can’t finish his sentence, “what were we going to do?”

He grits his teeth in frustration, much to Roman’s amusement.

“Relax, Specs,” he chuckles, “it’s alright. I’ll be right here when you remember what we were going to do. In the meantime, why don’t you just lie here with me?”

Logan bites back a curse. Damn Roman for being as perceptive as he is, and damn him for knowing it’s working.

“Shh,” as a hand strokes his cheek, “none of that, now, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

“Should’ve known a prince could never resist a damsel in distress,” he bites out, just to have something to say.

“Oh? Is that why you came into the storm with no jacket?” Damn. “So I’d have to come save you? Logan, really, if you wanted my attention, you needn’t resort to such extremes.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” he says in a way he hopes doesn’t sound as much like a whine as he thinks it does.

Judging by Roman’s chuckle, it’s definitely a whine. “Oh, Logan, you know you always have my attention.”

“Stop teasing.”

“I can’t help it,” he murmurs, “you’re so teaseable.”

“That’s not a word.”

“It is now.” Before he can open his mouth again, there’s a kiss pressed to his cheek and warm arms around him. “Now shush, my dearest nerd, and rest. My damsel’s hurt.”

Through the rapidly growing drowsiness, Logan manages to mutter: “not your damsel.”

“Of course not,” Roman coos, “you’re my Logan.”

“Roman!”

He laughs again, a hand coming up to ruffle his damp hair. “Come here, roll onto your side—yes, that’s it. There. Let me hold you. This way you won’t roll onto the scrape and hurt yourself.”

Roman’s leg wraps through his, drawing him into a gentle pin. Nothing that will work if Logan actually wants to be free—and he knows Roman would let him go the instant he asks. The hand in his hair threatens to lull him right to sleep, but not before he says thank you.

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” comes the reply, the other hand scratching lightly between his shoulder blades, “now you just lie there and fall asleep to me.”

Just before he slips under, he hears one last whisper.

“Me too, Logan, me too.”

Logan drifts off in Roman’s arms, safe, warm, found.

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#dragonbabbles #fic #sanders sides #logince #logan sanders #roman sanders

128 notes · View notes

drmmyrs · 3 years

Text

Remember Me (Becca x MC) Part 2

Hiii I’m back. Sorry again for the delay 😬I had such a hard time writing the ending so thank you so much @samanthadalton for all your help 😘Also, a big thanks to M anon for their suggestions and song request which I used some of.

tag list: @samanthadalton @crazzyplays @uselesslesbianfr @baexpoppy @alexroyard @alexlabhont @veenast @noixngn @sillyandcutewizardstuffs @doey-eyes8 @itszdavenport (If you wanna be added or removed or just prefer a certain ship just let me know ❤️)

Read Part 1

Pairing: Becca x MC (Emily)

Warnings: some swearing

Word Count: 2289

It's been an hour since Emily last came into my room to remind me of my doctor's appointment. And it's been about thirty minutes since I've been ready to go, physically at least. Naturally, I tried to get Chris to come with me instead because he's my boyfriend, right? Ughh fine, ex-boyfriend. But can you blame me, though? How am I suppose to move on when I literally have no memory of some sort of breakup or closure? I stare at the dull beige-colored ceiling, a view which has me panicking in the mornings right after I wake up, before I remember that I don't live at the sorority house anymore. I then close my eyes and get comfort in the memories I have left, my only anchor on the reality I knew, away from this freakish place with the people I don't even give a shit about.

After a couple more minutes, I begrudgingly get up with a groan and trudge downstairs, finding Emily waiting on the couch. She smiles upon seeing me, but I don't return the gesture, being genuinely annoyed at the prospect of having to spend an incessant amount of time with her. So instead, I walk past her towards the door, my heels clattering on the wooden surface. Emily then follows behind me from a distance, careful not to invade my space. Once outside, I walk straight towards the passenger door of Emily's junk of a car, grabbing the handle as I glare at Emily impatiently, waiting for her to unlock it. As soon as unlocked, I sink into the seat, slamming the door close harder than I intended. Emily, though, takes a second before going in, eyeing the seat suspiciously as if it might shatter anytime. Once seated, she places her hand on the gear stick, slightly trembling. And then it dawns on me, I may have forgotten about the accident, but it's probably still fresh from her memory, terrorizing her at every reminder. All this time, I've been complaining about how unfair everything is for me, not once considering how it may have affected her.

"Who was driving?" I ask. It may not be the best thing to talk about right now, but I have to know.

I see Emily flinch at the question, and before she even opens her mouth, I know. She looks out the windshield, her voice cracking when she replies, "I was."

I nod. My mom told me it was a drunk driver running a red light that hit us, so I don't blame her at all, not anymore.

"Is it–" The words come out sharp, so I stop and soften my voice. "Is it the first time you drove since?"

Emily doesn't reply immediately; instead, she shifts the gear and steps on the gas pedal as we begin to make our way towards the hospital. She grips the steering wheel tightly, anxiously looking at the road, her eyes obsessively sweeping for any oncoming traffic at every intersection.

"No. No it's not but..." Emily trails off, her knuckles turning white as her grip on the steering wheel tightens.

But it's her first time to drive with me in the car. I turn my head to look out the window, knowing full well I can't ease her fears. How can I when I'm the living reminder of everything she lost?

---------

I immediately regret my outfit choice as soon as we get into the waiting room, the frigid temperature biting at my skin, sending sharp pains like that of a needle across my exposed skin. I try to play it cool, but a shiver escapes my body, desperate for any source of heat. A few seconds later, a jacket appears in front of me, held by Emily who is wearing an annoyingly cute little smile on her face. I mumble thanks and take the jacket, placing it over my shoulders, smelling the scent of lavender as I bask in the comfort of heat.

I take out my phone and browse my socials, catching up on all the events I missed–or forgotten–while ignoring the get well soon messages from both people I know and don't know that have been piling up ever since the accident. A few minutes later, the doctor calls my name, and as I stand up, Emily does as well but then sits back down almost immediately, clearly unsure if her company is welcome.

I roll my eyes. "Come on."

---------

After a useless consultation–apparently, they can't do much to help me regain my memories–Emily suggests we stop by an ice cream parlor not far from here. I assent, but only because I need the comfort of a sugary snack right now, and it's been ages since I had one, or at least I think so.

We reach a store I don't recognize, replacing an office space that, while I never paid attention to before, was a pleasant fixture in my reality, not this... eyesore. I shake my head; I can't keep living in the past. I follow Emily into the store, reminding myself that this is my reality now.

Inside, the floor is patterned with alternating pink and black tiles, and the walls are coated with somewhat fresh pink paint adorned with decors that scream ice cream as if one might stumble into the shop looking for lunch or something.

"Welcome t–ah Emily and Becca! I haven't seen you girls in a while."

I turn around to see a guy, probably in his mid-twenties– smiling at us like... I shoot Emily a side-eye. She, of course, fails to mention that the guy working here is buddy-buddy with me. So, is this the kind of couple we were? Those who frequent an ice cream parlor enough to be on a first-name basis with the ice cream guy? I internally groan in disgust at the thought.

"–Becca." I'm pulled out of my thoughts when I hear my name. Emily and the ice cream guy are looking at me expectantly.

"Sorry I didn't hear," I mumble.

"You'll be having strawberry, your usual, correct?" says the guy with a wide smile.

I do want strawberry, but I shake my head and say, "Vanilla," just to spite him, annoyed how some stranger knows my favorite ice cream flavor.

"Ooh, trying something new today, are we? One rocky road and vanilla coming right up," he announces in an annoyingly high pitch voice. I struggle not to roll my eyes.

"Where's the bathroom?" I ask, which is met by a look of confusion followed by a laugh.

"You know wh–"

Emily quickly interjects, "The bathroom's there, Becca," pointing at a door at the back of the store.

I excuse myself and go to the bathroom, heading straight towards the mirror. I stare at my reflection, nitpicking every tiny detail that has changed throughout the years, changes I don't recognize at all. A tear rolls down my cheek, but I quickly wipe it away. I'm Rebecca fucking Davenport; I don't cry. I grip the sink tightly, overcome with a new resolution. I know who I am; they don't, convincing myself more than anyone else.

Once finishing up in the bathroom, I head back outside, noticing a different aura in the room. Emily is holding our orders with an apologetic look while the ice cream guy regards me with pity, something I've grown used to in the past few weeks. I take my ice cream from Emily, not meeting her gaze, and walk out of the store, striding ahead of her towards the car, not once looking back.

--------

On the ride home, silence weighs heavily between us as Emily bites at her lower lip, either contemplating what to say or waiting for me to go off on her. After an awkward amount of time, Emily finally breaks the silence.

"I'm sorry I–"

"Forget about it," I cut her off, too exhausted to engage with her. I think about the previous encounter, wondering if that would be my norm. Unfamiliar people coming up to me, sharing inside jokes and anecdotes while I stare blankly at them, wondering if I should explain my situation or just ignore them, being the bitch I know I am. I stare out the window, seeing all the changes in the city, musing about the memories I may have had alongside them, memories that I may or may not recover. It's as if an impostor had been living my life for the past two years, and now I'm forced to follow in their footsteps. It's obvious I had changed a lot during those years, my previous enemies becoming my closest friends, my greatest rival supposedly becoming the love of my life. Was she the love of my life? Was I happy with Emily?

It's already dark outside when we arrive home. I notice a few cars parked down the road, something unusual considering this is the only house for at least a couple of blocks. What do I know, though, it's not like I remember much about this place. I turn my attention back to the house; the lights inside are turned off, leaving a lone street lamp and the car's headlights as the primary sources of light, accentuating the jagged grey bricks of the house, almost giving an appearance of something sinister. This is ridiculous; I chide myself for being scared of a stupid house.

Emily walks ahead towards the door while I follow a few steps behind. As soon as I walk inside, the light turns on, and I'm greeted by a chorus of surprise echoing throughout the house, coming from people whom I only recognize half of. I stare at them blankly, unimpressed but just mostly confused. My mother walks over to me and gives me a big hug.

"Happy birthday, sweetie."

Birthday? I inconspicuously look at my phone. Huh. I could've sworn I've seen the date today at least a few times. A few moments later, Emily steps forward with a cake in her hands.

"Happy birthday babe," she says, immediately followed by a look of horror. "Becca. Sorry."

Of course Emily had planned this. It doesn't really matter if I wanted to have a stupid party. She had to go ahead and decide for me.

"Go ahead and blow out the candles," my mom urges.

I blow out the candles, faking a smile for my mom. As much as I want to storm into my room, I'm not about to break my mom's heart by causing some unnecessary drama.

--------

Just a few moments into the party, and I'm already exhausted–people lining up to greet me, asking how I've been doing since the accident. I realize that most people here don't know about my condition, which means I have had to engage in quite a few conversations about the things I've supposedly been doing for the past few years, things I have no recollection of, to which I gave vague answers to avoid having to explain everything.

I down my fourth glass of virgin cuba libre, eyeing the display of alcohol with contempt, resentful that I can’t drink because of the medicine I took earlier, when Zack drags me across the room to play some truth or dare with a bunch of people, some of whom I don't recognize. Thankfully, if there was one thing the sorority has taught me, it's that you don't have to know someone to ask the right questions or expertly avoid the common ones. That is of course until someone asks you the most unexpected question.

"Do you have a date for the wedding yet?"

I stare at them blankly, fumbling for words. Wedding?

"I–I–"

But before I can make up an answer, Kaitlyn arrives with Emily in tow, and that's when I notice it, the ring on Emily's finger. I gasp for breath, feeling like the air is taken out of my lungs. And I almost don't notice it when Kaitlyn takes out her guitar and starts singing, joined by the others.

When all the tears are rolling down your face And it feels like yours was the only heart to break When you come back home and all the lights are out And you're getting used to no one else being around

Oh, oh, I'll be there

I look at the unfamiliar faces, singing their hearts out, gazing at me fondly. I then turn my gaze to Emily's ring finger, and sitting on it is a small but glistening diamond and part of me chastises myself for not noticing earlier. I feel the entire room’s eyes on me and suddenly, it becomes too much for me to withstand. I stand up, scrabbling to go to my room, footsteps following behind me. Once I got on the stairs, Emily shouts my name from behind, and I stop at the sound of her voice, turning around.

"We were engaged? Why didn't you tell me?" My voice comes out harsher than expected and it seems to take Emily by surprise too because she just stands there motionless, speechless. “Marriage is a big thing Emily, that’s not something you can just conveniently not tell me.” I let out a frustrated groan, momentarily letting the anger wash all over me before I’m left with a bitter feeling in the pit of my stomach. “I’m sick of having random people tell me things about my life which I can’t even remember when my own fianc–” I stop, not even being able to say the word, shaking my head as the agony brought by my predicament proves to be too much. “I can’t do this. I'm sorry," I croak before running towards my room, slamming the door behind me. I then curl myself in bed as the tears fall freely.

#becca #becca davenport #becca x mc #the freshman series #playchoices #my work #my writing #my fanfics #request

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manonblaqkbeak · 3 years

Text

Lock-down Kisses

i wasnt almost gonna do day 11 but i got inspired late last night.

im also so glad that you guys liked my fic yesterday, it has been a bit of a stressful week for me so it makes me happy when you guys like my fics! it really means a lot so thank u! :)

cw: none. just some usual fluff lol

1.4k words

enjoy!

Aelin was so damned bored. She was sure she'd never been this bored in all her life.

She had to tell herself constantly that she was lucky, that she had a roof over her head, food in the fridge and pantry and that she was healthy and walking around, that she still had her job, no matter how rocky it currently was, she was still lucky.

It still didn't change the fact that being in lock-down rutting sucked.

It had been a month since the hard lock-down started and she had been stuck at home—her beautiful, sturdy home that she was damned privileged to have—somewhere in-between the mood of wanting to do something but not having the energy to actually do it.

She had already vacuumed and put the clean dishes away and the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. She had done a fresh load of laundry and put it outside to dry. With nothing left other than mopping (which she hated because no matter how hard she cleaned the tiles beforehand, there was always little pieces of debris that showed up and annoyed her to no end), she couldn't really think of any other house-chores for her to do to keep her preoccupied.

She mowed yesterday, and had racked up the leaves and grass too, plopping them in the garden bin. She watered the garden and refilled the bird-bath, as well.

There were plenty of books to read and listen to, but Aelin just wasn't in the mood for that, which surprised Rowan when she said that yesterday when she complained for the umpteenth time that she was slowly going insane—Aelin was always in the mood to read, but now...maybe it was because the people in those books were having adventures while she was stuck inside.

Right now, she was lying on the couch, staring at her plain as dust ceiling, wondering if it would break protocol if she could pay her neighbour Feyre to paint something enticing.

It probably would be, but she needed something pretty to stare at if she wasn't reading or watching television.

Again, she was grateful, because she had books to read and television to watch, but Aelin always liked to be doing something, being outside and running errands and working.

She was a teacher at Orynth dance and music studio, and due to the lock-down, she was unable to teach dance, but thankfully, she was still able to conduct piano, guitar and violin lessons over Zoom, even if it wasn't really the same and her laptops speaker made the music sound a little dingy, but she didn't have any lessons this week, but would next week, so at least she had something to look forward to.

To pass the time, she had resorted to snooping, watching people mill about in the street from the safety of her enclosed verandah and telling Rowan of the details that she observed when he had a moment of free time.

Which was practically non-existent, thanks to being a teacher and having to deal with stressed out senior students who constantly needed to be reassured that everything was going to be okay.

Not that Aelin could blame them for their stress, she felt so damned sorry for those kids, hyperventilating because they couldn't concentrate at home because they had to share the office with others and how terrified they were of flunking and just about everything else that caused them stress. But Rowan was there, reassuring them that everything would be okay and that as a team, they would tackle everything one day at a time.

Which was why when Aelin went to give Rowan a fresh cup of coffee earlier she was surprised to see that her husband was not in the study and that the room was empty. His laptop and papers were all set up for another day of virtual learning, but her husband could not be found, and she had gone throughout their entire house looking for him and did not find him. And it wasn't like he was hard to spot, he was over six feet tall, tanned and had silver rutting hair, but he was nowhere.

When she had gone back to the kitchen to add sugar and cream to his coffee that was now hers, she noticed that his joggers were gone by the front door, which made her frown because he hadn't mentioned going for a walk—not like he had to tell her everything she did, but she wouldn't have minded joining him—and came to the decision that maybe he just needed to clear his head before another stressful day was upon him.

At least it was Friday, not that that really meant anything when one was a teacher.

Aelin glanced around her living room, she had rearranged it two Saturdays ago with Rowan's help and maybe wondered if she could re-arrange it again, but decided that would just be ridiculous.

Maybe yoga would be a good idea, she didn't mind it and it at least gave her mind something else to focus about other than viruses and death and all other manners of unpleasantness.

So deciding that yoga was the best thing to prevent her from going to the roof and swapping out the tiles, Aelin got dressed, grabbed her things and went outside.

X X X X X X

Two hours later and Aelin was still outside. However, she gave up on yoga an hour ago, finding the energy to listen to a deliciously smutty audio-book. She was watching the clouds, but her mind was imaging that what was happening between the two lovers was her and Rowan (something that happened often when it came to these stories) and was about one paragraph from either shoving her hand down her pants or calling Rowan and asking him when the hell he was coming home so that they could recreate the scene when the front door opened.

Aelin jumped up and went back inside, barely remembering to turn off the audio-book and have her way with Rowan on the floor when she stopped dead at the sight of him.

Because in his hands hand was a leash, that was attached to a dog. A yellow lab, to be exact. The dog looked to be about six months old and was the cutest thing she'd ever seen.

“Rowan, why do you have a dog?”

“She's ours,” he said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “I was supposed to pick her up from the shelter over a month ago, but she got sick, so I was told to wait until she recovered. She's okay now, perfectly healthy, so I finally got the call the other day that she was ready to be picked up. She's caught up on all the necessary vaccines, and is well trained. I was meant to be here earlier, but Fleetfoot here wanted to go swimming in a mud puddle, so I had to take her to a dog spa on the other side of town.”

Aelin nodded, her eyes still glued on the pup. Her eyes were a pretty golden-brown colour and while she was young, Aelin could tell that she was smart.

“You got us a puppy?” Aelin managed to ask.

“Yeah. I know you've been wanting one for a long time, and when I saw her pop up on my Facebook wall, I knew she was the one for us. Do you like her?” he asked and Aelin could have sworn that her burly husband sounded shy. Nervous.

“I love her,” Aelin admitted truthfully and finally went over to their dog, who immediately starting sniffing at Aelin's outstretched hand when she crouched down in front of her. And was soon being supplied with kisses, all over her hand, her face and neck. Aelin laughed and Rowan smiled, knowing that he had made the right decision.

Rowan was about to sit down himself when Aelin tugged at his hand, bringing him down on top of her and kissed him with every bit of love she felt for him.

It didn't take long for Fleetfoot to join them, licking at Rowan while she yipped for their attention. They broke apart and spent the rest of the day getting to know the new addition of their family.

Lock-down sucked, but Aelin was lucky indeed to have her husband in her life. And the pure ball of energy that was Fleetfoot.

#rowaelin #rowaelinmonth #my work

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azc3nsion · 3 years

Text

a helping hand

Rating: E (Explicit, 18+ only)

Warnings: Explicit, PwP, Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex, lots of swearing, Modern AU

Summary: washing up takes time, which is awfully inconvenient for your flatmate, who would really like to use the bathroom, and would like to use it now. but when you call him in, he brings along an idea - and soon you no longer have to worry about anything - except, maybe, enjoying it ...a little too much...?

It knocked, again, for probably the fifth time in the last ten minutes.

"Can you, like, hurry up? I need to-" "Can you shut up!" You interrupted him, before Childe could repeat himself for the nth time. Another thud, likely stemming from his fist having hit the door. With a sigh, you dropped your hand in defeat.

"Listen," Came the voice of your flatmate. "I-"

"It's open." You huffed out.

"Sheesh, finally. What are you ev-" He broke off immediately. You lifted your head and made eye-contact. Childe stood in the door, hand on the handle, frozen. You lowered yourself until you sat on the side of the tub, completely naked as you were.

"Uh-"

Amusement bubbled in your chest at watching his perplexed expression.

He blinked, and turned his eyes to the ceiling.

"Uh, you could've- Why… The fuck." His other hand came up to rub over his face before pinching the bridge of his nose. "The fuck?"

You raked a hand through your hair. Childe's ears started to glow.

"Slept with a guy who didn't use a condom and I'm not gonna walk around getting cum all over my underwear." You sighed and shut the water off.

"And… now?"

"Been trying to get it all out."

He came into the room, shutting the door fully. The stream of cold air that had flooded the room, coming in from the hallway, got blocked. Legs a little stiff, he made his way towards the toilet and sat down there to pee. You watched him, and had trouble hiding the grin that his attempts at not-staring and keeping himself covered evoked.

"What's taking so long then?" He asked at the ceiling. His fingers pulled the wad of toilet paper in his hands apart piece by piece. His ears were strawberry red by now.

"I feel like I can't really- You know vaginas are self-cleaning, right, but I don't wanna wait around, but also I feel like I can't quite get up in there."

He nodded. His brows creased, and it looked like he was mentally going over your words once more. You sighed again. He finished and got up, flushed, then went to wash his hands.

"Right. So…" He met your eyes through the mirror, and you could see his gaze slipping down before he focused on drying his hands.

"So, I'm sorry for occupying the bathroom so long, Childe. Don't really know how long it's gonna take me."

If you'd have one of your dildo's here, you could've used that. But the one that was the most natural one you had had been lost, for weeks now, and your hopes at finding it just today were slim. If only you had a proper one here, their heads were shaped in a way that would so easily clean you out…

Childe was still hovering by the sink, wringing the towel between his palms. An idea took root in your head.

"Hey Childe?"

He looked at you, and then away, after clearing his throat.

"Yeah? What."

You shifted a little in your spot.

"When's the last time you fucked someone?"

It didn't matter, but it seemed smartest to not outright ask, to not overwhelm him completely.

"Uh… Dunno. Been a while. Why?" One of his hands had been buried in his pocket already, and after rubbing his neck with the other, he put that one into his sweats, too. They held the front of his pants suspiciously convenient away from his crotch.

"You know, you could… You could really help me out here. If you use your dick, the cum would be out of me in moments. Wouldn't take long at all."

This time his eyes shot up to meet yours and stayed there. "Wh-What."

You stayed silent.

He swallowed.

"You want me to- To fuck you, to get the…?"

You nodded. "Doesn't have to be long, either, just a couple of thrusts. Just to get it out."

The silence weighed heavy in the air between you. Childe's ears were an alarming shade of cherry by now.

He swallowed again.

"Like, right here or…?" His hands slipped out of his pockets and the soft, stretchy fabric slid back into its place, revealing a sizeable bulge at his groin.

You got up and out of the tub, leaving wet footprints on the tiled floor on your way to him by the sink.

"We could go to bed, too. Would probably be more comfortable, if you want?"

You ran one of your hands over his left pectoral, down to his side.

"Yeah," His voice was a little raspy. "Yeah, okay."

"Thank you!" You smiled at him, feeling relief but also anticipation spread through your stomach. Fucking your flatmate had never really crossed your mind - mainly because his primary function was to be able to afford rent and not live in a total pigsty - but now that you thought about it… "Your bed or mine?" Had your voice been this breathy before...?

"Mine." Childe mumbled, gaze alternating between your eyes and lips.

Against better judgement you leaned forward, stopped just shy of his lips. He was still staring at yours. The tip of his tongue pushed his bottom lip down.

"Can I kiss you?" Even though it had been you leaning in, it was him asking now.

"Yeah-" You whispered, and then his hand was on your neck already, pulled you in and against him.

He was careful, with his lips and his teeth and his tongue. The first kiss was just soft lips on lips, testing the waters, getting a feel for the other. Then he broke away, for only a moment. He came back, with teeth nibbling at your bottom lip, and then there was his tongue sliding between your lips, easing into your mouth like it had always belonged there.

"-ngh!" You hissed out as he tugged your hips closer and pressed his erection against you. You raised one of your legs without a second thought, to be closer to him, and he jumped at the chance of slipping a hand around your thigh, down to your butt. You rolled your hips against his hard-on, and smiled into the kiss as he let out a soft grunt at the contact.

"You know, I never thought about kissing you, but you're… really good at this."

He rolled his eyes, hands continuing to fondle you while he was momentarily distracted. "That was probably the best kiss I've had in-" "Mhm okay, bed, now." He cut you off with another kiss, mumbling the words against your mouth.

And yet his hands did the opposite, only pulling you closer, softly pushing at your hips until you rolled them against him one more time. Two more slow, deep kisses, and then he straightened his shoulders and took a hold of your hand, pulling you along and out of the bathroom.

The air was chillier outside, and you hurried after him, not wanting to catch a cold.

His room was warm against the hallway, had a pleasant shiver run over your back. You dove into his bed, were surprised at the softness of his sheets as you slipped between them while Childe was rummaging around on one of his shelves. He turned back around, a box of condoms in hand, and lifted one with a questioning look.

You rolled on your back and shook your head.

"Don't worry about that. I just need you to get the other stuff out, it's not like we're actually gonna fuck."

"Right." He winked, grinned, and put it back. You had to smile at him winning his cool back.

His usual, wry smirk was in its usual place on his face, and his posture carried more of the confidence you'd mistaken for cockiness upon first meeting him. Knew to be self-assurance by now.

"So, how do you want it?"

He shrugged out of his hoodie and tugged his shirt back down over his abs, before shimmying out of his sweats. Your eyes went straight to his groin. A dark spot had bloomed over the light grey of his boxer tights, towards the left leg. One of his hands pushed on his junk before he hooked his thumbs into the waistband and tugged them down.

His dick sprang free of its constraint.

It was a decent size, with a nice girth. His hand came back and gently massaged his balls.

You shuffled backwards, fully onto the bed. Turned around and spread your legs, giving him full view.

"Just… push in and out a couple times. Just a few should be enough."

"Okay."

You felt the bed dip where he climbed on it. His palm was warm when he ran it down the length of your spine.

"You sure about this?" You asked, looking back over your shoulder.

"Huh?" He met your eyes, one hand rubbing your hips and sides, the other enclosing his dick and giving it a slow pump. "Helping me out, I mean?"

"Oh yeah, no it's alright. Probably annoying getting your underwear all sticky, I get that. Don't worry about it."

You let out a sigh of relief. "Okay."

He continued to smooth his fingers over your back - your shoulders, sides, thighs. Even used both to round your torso and cup your breasts. It felt nice, but it wasn't really what you'd agreed to.

"What are you waiting for?" You laughed lightly.

Childe's chest, still covered with his shirt, brushed your back as he leaned forward.

"If you're wet, it'll be easier for me to go in. Plus it'd basically help flush you out even more, right?"

You hadn't thought about it like that.

"Huh… Yeah… Guess you're right?"

He pressed a kiss to your neck. His lips felt really nice.

His logic was sound, and so you allowed yourself to fully feel after each of his touches. When he eventually kissed his way down your spine, you wiggled a little.

"Think I'm ready." You let him know, even feeling a little hot and bothered despite your best intentions.

"Alright." He pulled back, and you could feel his thighs touching yours. "Okay, going in. You ready?"

Already the blunt tip of his dick kissed your entrance, not daring to slip in just yet.

"U-huh..." You mumbled.

The tip pushed between your slick folds. Parted them with ease, and slid inside you almost by itself. You felt yourself opening around it, with barely any resistance.

"Oh fuck... Childe-" You pressed out, eyes closed.

His dick fit inside you like it had been created to just fulfill this singular purpose.

"Ah- Hold on, not in completely just ye- Ah…" His pelvis met yours. Both of you moaned out. You almost felt a little light-headed. "Fuck you feel good."

"You too…" Oh, and how good he felt. Filling you completely, having you writhe and itch on the spot, longing to feel him move...

"Okay," You pressed your eyes close and then opened them again, hoping to clear your head a little. "Try… Try pulling out, see if any of the cum…?"

You trailed off as he already moved.

"Mhm, shit..." He breathed out. Only the tip was left inside you. "Yeah, there's some white stuff. Looks like it's working?"

"Can you push in again?"

He obliged, even before you'd finished your sentence. Again his dick entered, pushed until his balls nudged up against you.

"Fuuck…"

You had to close your eyes, he felt too good.

The premise of Childe's dick was presenting a temptation you hadn't considered, and weren't in the slightest prepared for. If you didn't focus on the initial reason you'd asked him, if you- He thrusted in, groaning as you accidentally clenched around him.

The pure lust in his voice had you forcing your eyes open, staring at the headboard of his bed. Childe's hands on your sides held your hips securely as he pushed in and out again, almost having a sort of rhythm already.

"Hey…" You swallowed a moan.

"Huh?" He said.

You had to remember the words before speaking them out one after the other.

"Is there still cum getting out? Did you clean me out already?"

"Oh… Hang on." He pulled out completely. You dropped your head on your hands, willing yourself to not think too much about how utterly empty you were right now. "Yeah, there's still… There's still some stuff there. See?"

You lifted your head and he held out his fingers for you, a thin string of cum dangling from it.

"Shit. That dude must've come deeper in me than expected…"

"I can try going a little deeper?" He offered, and you heard him drop the tissue he'd used to wipe his fingers with on the floor.

You bit down on your lip. He'd pushed in balls deep already, but kept the thrusts relatively light. If he were to actually put some force behind them-

"Yeah, please." Came the words out of your mouth while you were still trying to argue with yourself about how him going in like that, just a few times, wouldn't hurt. Wouldn't be worse than how the rest had been already. Worse, as if him fucking- No, helping you was bad in any way, or-

And then his hands were back on your hips, he lined his dick up with your hole again and filled you once more and any and all thoughts were gone from your mind at once.

He felt so good.

So good.

He went balls deep, went back for the fraction of a second, and then pushed in as deep as he could again.

"-Fuck!" It escaped you. "Ah, shit, Childe… You think the cum is in that deep?"

"You don't want me to make sure?" He huffed out, before grinding his hips against yours. Instead of an answer, you moaned, shamefully loud as he thrusted in, rutting against you. And then one more time.

"Ugh…"

He pulled back, agonizingly slow.

"Hnng, Childe-" It was at the tip of your tongue, that plea, and still you recalled this wasn't meant to be a fuck, this was supposed to help you get the other cum out, this wasn't supposed to- "Childe, please, harder."

He groaned and his fingers dug into your sides.

His skin smacked yours as he sped up and forced his dick as deep down as he could on every thrust now.

"Is this helping?" He asked through clenched teeth, with his dick pounding into you.

"Oh- Oh- Fuck, Childe- I- Fuck-... Deeper, Childe, please gimme- oh- Fuck…!"

He was breathing heavily now, pushing into and against you wildly. Leaned forward and pushed you down into the mattress, one arm around your middle to keep your hips slightly elevated.

"Ah, ah, ah- Ah fuck, fuck fuck…" He grunted, hips smacking into yours.

You realized you'd lost then; whatever petty little mental resistance that remained after that first thrust. He was fucking you so hard and so thoroughly that you could almost feel the strain on your ass and legs already, knew it'd be a pain to sit or even walk tomorrow. And it only had you moaning more.

"Fuck, Childe… Cleaning me so good, fucking me so good, ah-" You moaned out, pushed into the mattress by his weight on your back.

"Giving you only the best I have, baby..." He brought out, spreading his legs a little further. Your own felt like jelly, being fucked apart like that

Smack smack smack.

He let out a moan, directly into your ear.

There was a lot that came over your lips, mindless blabber, mostly; sweet nothings about how good he was, how great he was fucking you, how good it felt.

"Hnng- Cum inside me, Childe-!" You were bordering on light-headedness, didn't have full control over your words anymore, being pounded into oblivion by him. Let slip what had started to fill your head over the last minutes. "Fucking- Give it to me, Childe-! Fill me up!"

"Shit you serious?" He groaned, hips pistoning into yours. "Fuck-"

"Yeah," Now that it had come out, now that you had admitted it to both him and you, it felt wrong to pretend you hadn't said it. Didn't want the chance to be properly stuffed full, by someone you liked, no less, to pass you by. Were hungering to feel him lose himself.

"Yeah, yeah- Just cream me, okay? I want you to- Oh fuck, fuck- I want- I want you- Your-"

"Shit- Ahh, shit- Fuck- Fuck-!" He buried his head by your shoulder. His hips came to a stuttering halt. "Gonna cum if you don't tell me to stop-!" He brought out, but if it had meant to sound like a warning, he was terrible at delivering it like that. Made it sound more like a promise, if all.

"Childe, please-" Your hands clenched into his pillow. "Don't you dare stop now or so-"

He fucked into you hard, bringing your sentence to a stop before you had to come up with some bullshit.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck-" His voice jumped an octave as he flattened himself to you, helplessly rutting into you, and then he was groaning out long and loudly, pushed in to the hilt, and didn't pull out anymore. Rolled his hips against yours to thrust in as deep as he could. "Ohhh… Ohh, shit..."

You clenched around him, tickled another groan out of him as his dick throbbed, filling you with his sperm.

He kept grinding against you with every spurt of cum, slow, lazy rolls of his body as he rode out the last of his body's high, until he finally stilled for good.

Sighed and hugged his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You felt comfortably cushioned, and good, like this, with his dick deep inside, in his arms. There was a pleasant warmth between your bodies.

"Shit. Yeah, there's no way there's any of the shit of that other dude left now…" He ran a hand over the side of your thigh. Pressed another soft kiss to the shell of your ear. "You're full of my sperm, now."

You moaned at his words; at the affectionate and yet almost possessive tone.

"Can you make me cum, too?" You asked, half muffled by the pillow.

"Yeah, sure. Come on, lift your hips a little- There you go."

He refused to pull out, and so his fingers caressed your clit, pushed and prodded and circled relentlessly. Egged you on further and further, having you chase after your own orgasm - until you lost ground and came, overwhelmingly. Still impaled by his dick.

You didn't want to feel for your legs, were content just lying here for forever now. Maybe getting fucked once or twice would be nice, but even if not- This was your spot now. Your motivation to move was below zero.

Instead of making a move to have him shift off of you, you softly ground back against Childe, still deep inside you.

"Fuck this was good... Didn't know you could fuck this good."

"Didn't know you were so fuckable." He answered your unasked question and laced his fingers through yours as you extended a hand next to your face. "Sorry I made you even more sticky now…"

You huffed and shrugged. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder blade.

"This doesn't change anything between us though, right?" You asked, head turned, watching the redhead from the corner of your eyes.

"Hm? What? -No, of course not." He rolled his hips against yours once, pushing as close as possible.

"Okay, good." You laid your head back down, closed your eyes and sighed at the feeling of Childe everywhere around you.

"Can I still kiss you, though?" He asked, and you squinted your eyes at him. "Like, right now?"

It had you laughing.

"Yeah, sure. C'mere."

And he eased out of you, let you prop yourself up on an elbow, and then brought your lips together softly. And as his tongue darted out, swiftly sliding back into your mouth, you felt his cum slowly start to leak out.

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yabaiyabaiyabai · 3 years

Text

No Mistake

Word count : 5.6k

Warnings (^_^*) : incest, manipulation, dub-con, slight gore, obsession, Gojo is a spoiled brat

AO3 link

There was something satisfying yet so frustrating about the martial art of archery. It’s, in a way, a meditation in action, your father said whenever he came to the training room. He always seemed mentally absent but you paid no mind, the man knew better and you needed to keep all your senses focused on the target, so he chose to hide in the shadows, barely a few steps away from the elegant shoji door.

On summer days, the opaque penumbra drew a thick line between the inside of the room and the open outside to the small garden, where the targets laid side by side. The grass became so vibrant and the dark blue tiles enclosing the courtyard shined so bright you thought you might go blind if you didn’t squint your eyes enough. This emphasized the darkness of the large room behind you where only the ceiling benefited from the reverberation of the sun, making it a tiny bit lighter and creating an atmosphere you particularly adored. There, immobile and almost invisible, your dad was sitting comfortably, drinking tea and reading a book. He knew no arrows shot nor any sound from you could distract him from his novel. It never did, you never did.

Even though the heat was hitting its apex on an august afternoon, you hushed your own heavy breathings, your annoyed sighs caused by the sweat collecting under the folds of your hakama, and the small pit of anger forming in your throat whenever an arrow would slip on the side of the target to hit the concrete of the fence in a small tud.

“My.. you really took a liking in kyūdō lately…” you jerked your head to your father, unaccustomed to him speaking, not only during a training session, but in general. The tone of his voice was slightly amused but his face stayed impassive and focused on the page he was currently reading.

You lowered your bow in a less delicate way you would when he didn’t talk at all and allowed yourself to sight.

“Maybe.. but I thought this was gonna be relaxing. Turns out it’s as frustrating as making art and I don’t see any progress..”

“It’s only been a few months (name)... It takes years..no, decades -he corrected himself- for graded members to archive the level you’re already chasing after. It’s alright if you can’t do it yet, nothing comes so easily.” He calmly flipped a page of the book and re-directed his eyes to the top of it.

You found nothing to retort. Your father was right, obviously. This was, if a man ,who told you five months ago that you looked great with a bow in your hands and that he adored when your eyebrows scrunched when you were focused on a target, didn’t achieve the said level of a master in two mere weeks.

“He made it.” You mumbled under your breath, tugging on the large pants you were wearing.

An uncomfortable silence immediately filled the large room, invading the calm garden as well where even the loud chirps of birds hidden in bamboo branches couldn’t silence the white noise. You kept on your staring contest with the tatami floor, unable to form a correct apology for bringing up your uncle to the conversation so rudely. So unwise of you, to let anger take over because you couldn’t make up your feelings about such a ridiculously gifted being. Was it jealousy ? Too much admiration perhaps ? A deep laugh suddenly ripped through the air and interrupted your thoughts. Your eyes widened. It’s been such a while since your father’s laughter didn’t ring your ears that you almost forgot the sound of it.

“Ah, I knew Satoru would end up being a bad influence for the youngsters of the clan…”

“It’s not… bad…”

“Well, if you’re that obsessed with it, then it must be, at some point.”

Four months had passed since and the tree leaves were now heavy and dangling dangerously from the snow threatening to fall on the ground in an inaudible sound. Your father stopped coming, preferring the warmth of indoors to which you couldn’t blame him.

Seasons and days of exercising were now your only way to keep track of time, it has been like this for a while, actually.

Jujutsu families couldn’t stress out enough to the young generation about the importance of bloodline, and what it implied. Every successor was a gamble to the game, the principle of a potential vessel to create new orders and change the balance of power between families was always mooted in any festivities. Well, it has been a bit more different and controversial since the birth of a certain boy. Although you couldn’t quite see it, you firmly believed in the statement that the balance of the world was altered this morning of December 1989. Sometimes, it almost felt like you were here on the day the miracle occurred. You could almost perceive the face of your young father, wide open eyes, sitting in seiza style in his parents room and holding the baby with trembling arms, surrounded by the whole family in a biblical way. The man was in his twenties at the time and remembered the birth of his younger brother like it was yesterday, but nobody, not even him, would tell the tale anymore. Satoru had become mondanity among the rest of his family. His presence was inevitably and constantly enwrapped forever on the clan’s name, tongues, walls, sheets, meals. It was so suffocating that everyone decided to stop prattling about him. He was everywhere and nowhere, all the time.

It’s only natural that your family found a bit of serenity at the coming of such a blessed child. There wouldn’t be any race against other clans for a little while now. You were raised with implied worship and knew that as long as you stayed in the estate under the Gojo name, you remained safe. That is how the outside became over time a strange and frightening concept to you, Satoru wouldn’t be here to protect you out there, and in no way you wished to live a life under no god.

Although the futon was doing an amazing job at blocking the winter cold, you hurried once again to the dojo right after waking up. Wasting no time, you impatiently tugged on your hakama sleeves and rolled them up, putting on a four fingers glove that was cautiously folded and laid on the varnished dark wood coffee table by a maid at dawn. The bows were standing proudly side by side on a custom shelf, without a single trace of dirt, inviting anyone in the room to use them with the greatest care. You grabbed the handle of one and rested it close to your chest as you reached for a quiver. In the dojo, it constantly felt like you could hear your own heartbeat. The faint chatter of your family from afar on a late morning couldn’t compete with the loud silence of the snowy garden in front of you. It was you, the bow and the arrow. You breathed in slowly, lightly, as if you were scared to bother any mystical spirit occupying the place with the noise of air filling your lungs.

Time stopped, and you faced once again the infinity of space separating you from the first target point. You expanded your rib cage by separating your shoulder blades as far from the other as you could like they were reverse magnets. Feeling the air going inside even more, you gently exhaled it, until your blood was rushing at an extremely slow pace to your heart and your hands stopped shaking completely. The thin arrow left in a flash and went across the garden to stab the right edge of the target, far from where you were aiming for.

“True shooting, certain hitting.” the calm voice resonated, hitting the wall to jump back right in your ears.

And it took all the strength in the world for you to breathe in again, but the air was now suffocating, too much.

“I believe the supreme goal of Kyudo is truth-goodness-beauty...” a shiver ran down your spine. It started to move. The voice behind you pivoted and got closer to the back of the room. You heard the faint stretched sound of the leather of a glove being put on and arrows sliding out from the quiver in a sharp metal noise, yet extremely delicate tingling.

“...which can be approximated as when archers shoot correctly.” your eyes were fixated and refused to leave the arrow that you planted on the target a few seconds ago, motionless like a statue looking out for the horizon with glassy eyes. The voice was now to your right, closer.

“But you know what ? I think an arrow right on a target proves you made no mistake. Only the result speaks for itself.”

You gained the power back on your body and directed your gaze to the man on your side, his head facing the large open wall with sliding doors which was fully opened and overlooked the snowy garden. From the sky, to the trees, to the rocks, everything was pure white. From his hair, to his eyelashes, to the knuckles of his slender fingers hugging the middle part of the bow firmly, the absent color was breathtaking. His left arm slowly extended as his back stretched and his shoulders tightened, ready to spread wings, getting larger than it already was. From his side profile, you could distinguish the cyan pool of his eyes. They only devoted themselves to the target twenty eight meters away which you almost felt jealous of stealing all his precious attention. His posture was perfect, the one of an artist who can pretend he didn’t put any effort in the making but knows his art by heart, controls it.

“It’s forbidden to talk when you’re about to throw an arrow, uncle. Please respect the rules.” You blurted out.

And he instantly stopped talking. Right when he was about to shoot seconds before, you hold your breath, waiting for the arrow to hit the target. Your eyes were already glued on it from across the garden, squinting in anticipation. But it didn’t come, he kept the bow bent to its fullest. It was oh so silent that this time, you could almost hear his heartbeat, too. The man looked so elegant you couldn’t avoid returning your stare at him after some time, and that’s when you noticed.

He was looking right at you, and turned his head slightly towards your small frame so that you could see his right eye also piercing through you, putting on a charming insolent smile only he knew the secret. His eyebrows were raised a little, giving him an innocent look he knew could only confuse you more. He has lost complete acknowledgement or interest in the target, aiming for something else. Unable to read his strange attitude, you let out a small sound of surprise escape from your lips when he finally released the painfully taut string of the bow and the arrow went flying across the yard to stab the exact center of a circle from one of the targets. Your neck did hurt from turning so fast, trying to follow the arrow, and your mouth fell open from the strange sight you just witnessed. He shot without even looking at where he aimed.

“One point for me, zero for you~!” He chanted like a toddler while relaxing his shoulders and stretched his arms out wide open like a cat on a lazy afternoon.

“The- you- you could have sliced your ear off with the bow string !” You reprimanded harshly, forgetting all your mannerisms in a moment of panic.

Satoru flashed a big smile in victory. “Geez, relax (name) ! You’re so tight on rules, it's almost too easy for me to mess with you…” A warm and loud laugh resonated from the deepest insides of his lungs. “Topic aside, is that how you greet your uncle ?” At his query, his hands landed on his hips, trying to act like a forbidding adult.

You quickly got your head straight again only to realize how rude you were behaving in front of your uncle, but also the current head of the Gojo clan. Your lips formed a straight line and you bowed respectfully, while painfully trying to swallow your crushing defeat, eyebrows scrunched and cheeks red.

“M‘sorry. Welcome home uncle Satoru, please enjoy your stay, as long as you’d like.” Your voice, as polite as you tried it to be, couldn’t hide a bit of impertinence.

The young man paused a bit at your sudden change of behavior and slowly rubbed his hand on his chin while keeping the other on his hip, suddenly lost in thought.

“Myyy~ my big bro really did raise you well ! The oldster’s as polite as a concrete door, but look at you ! You even gained a few centimeters !” He exclaimed as his hand extended to pat your head affectionately. Obviously, he was only acting jovial, but you couldn’t guess if this was part of a character or if he still saw you as a child. It didn’t matter one of the two, compliments like these always went right to your heart and warmed up your entire body, as angry at him as you could ever be.

"Did you bring me a souvenir?” You quickly got your head up again, staring at him with sparkly eyes in hope of the precious coveted gift from the holy city of Tokyo. He sent you a few badly photoshopped postcards of the Tokyo Sky Tree and various touristic sites of the city before, with mascots and little hearts, sometimes his own drawings scribbled with a cheap marker on it. You secretly wished to see the red tower, the Ueno park, the Harajuku streets, with your own two eyes.

“Aah~ My bad, I was so busy that I forgot !” He tragically brought his hand to his chest as if you just shot an arrow to his heart. “What can I do to earn your forgiveness ? Go on, I’ll wait for my punishment.”

You were about to open your mouth to speak again when a maid bursted in the dojo, her forehead glistening with sweat as she waved her hands around like a maniac.

“Lord Satoru, we’ve been looking everywhere for you ! Please go greet your parents with the adequate attention you paid to the rest of the family !” She reprimanded him like he was still a rebellious teenager.

Well, he kind of always has been one, especially with the elderly and higher ups. This was probably why he didn’t come to the Gojo household as much as he used to do when he was still learning at jujutsu tech. At that time, it wasn’t rare to see him wander around the giant mansion on summer break with a popsicle hanging dangerously from his mouth and a loose yukata revealing his shoulder blades. As a teen, he already earned all the characteristics of a young and healthy grown man, by his height and sharp jaw, as well as a large back you thought could swallow you whole when you were sitting next to him on the patio, dangling your tiny feet in a bassin of cold water to cool yourself. Like every seventeen years old boy, he hated kids, and you were no exception to the rule. But being ten didn’t mean you couldn’t take the role of a necessary confidant for his critics towards the jujutsu society and his parents, whom he judged too imbecile and sluggish for supporting the jujutsu world without moving a single finger and only possessing the title.

Taking off the kyudo glove, Satoru sighted and ran a hand through his hair. Right before he stepped out of the room escorted by the maid, his head turned to you one last time.

“What do you say we go out hunting together after ?” He posed for a bit and titled his head to the side before continuing in almost a whisper. “Don’t worry, It’ll be just the two of us.”

You missed all the targets the next two hours after he went to the meeting. You knew deep down that even ten years after, even if he became the accomplished adult he was, the strongest sorcerer, he probably still needed someone to talk ill about his parents, someone who could understand, no, nod to every word slipping out of his mouth like a good and faithful worshipper. Yes, there wasn’t any need to construct your own opinion on how your grandparents were leading the clan while he wasn’t here, it was an unnecessary effort when you simply could be the vessel of the many thoughts and opinions of Gojo Satoru.

Any hopes or expectations were silenced by the hard truth you made up in your mind : you were once again used as an object to let off steam by your master. Nothing more and nothing less, nothing to expect from it.

“You ready ?” Your thoughts were abruptly cut when the man in question arrived fashionably late at your rendezvous spot. It was on the far edge of the massive courtyard encircling the estate. A small gate was separating the nicely traditional garden, vigorously maintained free of any weed by the many gardeners, while on the other side ,the towering and mighty, yet untamed and feral forest.

“Mm !” You responded while repositioning the quiver on your waist.

The both of you were wearing hakamas and an extra layer of clothing to fight the winter cold. He also put on a turtleneck underneath and a scarf, elegantly hugging his neck. Not wanting to waste any more of his precious time, you went straight ahead and dove deep into the forest. You usually didn’t mind being engulfed by it, but this time, a suffocating presence followed your shadow with the lightness of a wolf stalking his prey. The landscape soon became a silent cacophony of white. Any small creature around could only hear the steady rhythm of shoes flattening the snow in a thud. Yours was violent. Satoru’s was inaudible. Squirrels, redbreast birds, even them could clearly define who was still maturing, presumptuous, foolish and who was the presumed mature one, only by the sound of the two of you walking.

Mature. What a strange word. A faint memory of an ancient summer afternoon suddenly invaded your mind.

“Isn’t it used for fruits too?” you asked, panting slightly. Uncle Satoru used to be obsessed with this word, like any teenager would. He had nothing to prove to anyone in the estate about his superiority and eminence, but you figured out he probably met individuals that could by miracle rival his greatness at jujutsu tech. He would sometimes behave like an animal doing a courtship ritual, a peacock, trying to impress anyone with difficult words and complicated sentences, to which you reacted with stars in your eyes and great respect. But that day, you only needed simple sentences. The long and agonizing cry of cicadas went crashing in your ears like waves, so painful you thought the endless noise might excavate your brain like the sea sculpts rocks on the shore. Your fever felt like a punishment from the gods, whom you imagined were all laughing loudly at your trembling and sweaty figure under the sheets. It was so uncommon to catch such a violent cold on a sunny day of July that the whole estate was taken by surprise and was even running low on medicine, and hope. You were vaguely conscious of your own possible death, the fierce battle of your mind to stay coherent was almost coming to a tragic end, but it never seemed to finish. On your bedside was an unbothered Satoru, legs stretched out to reach the sunlight penetrating the room by the patio, his right hand resting behind him for weight support, the other mechanically toying with the wooden stick of his popsicle. The complicated pattern of his yukata you had been staring at for the past hour only fueled the need to vomit and headache you were suffering from.

“For fruits ? Dunno. I’m not one.” He responded to your question absently. Was it supposed to be a joke ? You couldn’t even comprehend the meaning of “joke” anymore, everything was just very mushy and foggy… ah…

Your eyes shot open when you felt the cold, wet and hard texture of something on your bottom lip, then the taste of chemical strawberry.

“Mn.. Mom said eating ice cream was bad for me..” you tried to form a coherent sentence, in too much pain to politely decline your young uncle’s offer.

“Come on, s’just frozen juice, you won’t die from it.” His tone became a bit mocking, at least he believed you would survive the fever, unlike the rest of the family, not that they cared that much.

You couldn’t fully open your eyes anymore. You were just a puddle of sweat, possibly snot, tears, half lidded wet lashes, cheeks and forehead red and glistening. “So vulnerable and cute” Satoru thought to himself, desperately trying to refute the fact he found the view quite erotic. But he still leaned on you, to feel the sick heat radiating from your body, to hear your small puffs. You slowly and painfully opened your mouth to welcome the sweet in it, letting the young man draw small circles on your lips with the tip to ease the cold of the ice. It all felt suddenly too intimate, suffocating for both of you.

“Come on.. lick it..” Gojo almost whispered, towering you and blocking anything else except him from your already restricted vision.

You did as he ordered and started moving your tongue around the popsicle slowly. The liquid melting and descending through your throat felt like pure heaven in this moment of absolute discomfort due to the fever. You had given up on keeping your eyes open, trusting the man on top of you with whatever he was doing. Keeping the steady pace, you started to lightly moan from relief and happiness. Everything felt better when Satoru was here, right ? Especially when you met with the lukewarm and even whether muscle that was his tongue, casually sliding against yours in tandem with the popsicle still between the two of you.

A small jerk from you, a surprised gasp, and he had you even closer and deeper you thought was possible. The warmth emitting from him was becoming insupportable, but addicting. The smooth touch of his tongue danced to the music of the wet noises coming from the both of you and merged with the cicadas you couldn’t hear anymore.

“Ha..a.. no.. let’s keep going..” He pleaded slowly when you tried to close your mouth. He sounded so sweet and infatuated, like a silent prayer you felt honored to receive. But the heat was too intense to endure by your small body and you felt yourself faint slowly, like the burning memory this was.

“I thought you were the one reprimanding me for not paying enough attention when shooting.” A much more mature voice woke you up from your daydream and you opened your eyes wide in a jerk.

“Ah!” You jumped and felt your muscles jolt, losing your balance on your feet as you were about to shoot an arrow to a deer, long gone after hearing your surprised noise.

Strong arms were fast to catch you and the slender pale fingers of the white haired man behind you found refuge on yours at the handle of the bow. Gojo’s chin sat comfortably on your right shoulder, his lips at the perfect height to murmur every word to you and no other in the entire world. The light weight he put on your back or the tickle of his thin hair on your cheeks made your heart clutch and you shook your head to your own futile attitude.

Gojo Satoru will never find inner peace. It’s a quest he gave up on years ago. You didn’t know what or who could have made him become the shell filled to the brim with a lonely glory and an immense ego only his broad shoulders could carry with ease. Maybe it was one of his classmates, maybe it was his family, maybe it was the universe, maybe it was you. But you loved it, you loved to swim over this giant puddle of black seaweed in clear waters, unsure if a monster would come grab you by the ankle to drag you into asphyxiation. You were high on waiting for his next word, because you couldn’t guess a single time what it could be.

He leaned a little bit more on you.

“Ah.. it’s so quiet here… Don’t you ever get lonely ?” You noticed a small rabbit halting to a stop a few meters away. It seemed he hadn't noticed the two of you.

You gently took an arrows, pinching it by the feather from your quiver and slid it across your cheek to hook it at the string. Trying to focus on the small creature, your eyes averted the white wolf behind you who was now tenderly wrapping his arms -and claws- around your waist, securing you without any consideration for your attempt at hunting. He still allowed you to move, but you could sense a form of irritation and impatience coming from him. At the end, he remained the childish teenager he was.

“Mmh ?” Ah, yes. You still didn’t answer his query.

“I’m not lonely at all, I can’t think of things such as loneliness.” You whispered back in an impassive tone, closing one eye to clear your vision on the target. The rabbit wasn’t alarmed yet.

“Ah, you still speak like a puppet. Let’s talk like everyone else if you want it, but I thought you were different…”

“D-Different ? You’re the one different.” You got on your defensive.

The world you were born in, it’s yours.

“Am I different for you then ?” The rabbit's ears cutely rose up, he became aware of your presence and its condition of prey.

You are. And I wish you weren’t different from me.

You tightened the string of the bow and your shoulders started to burn, the pain striking directly into the muscle. You squinted your eyes even more so that a hollow of black could only let you perceive the small animal whose tail was wagging from anxiousness.

“You’re… you’re family.” You whispered, breaking your own rule that consisted of not talking while shooting. Gojo smiled.

I hate my last name.

Tiny panicked red orbs bore into your eyes and the small animal gesticulated on its spot before pushing on its back paws to dive in the thick snow and run as fast as it could.

I hate “Gojo”.

You shot your eyes wide open and pivoted on your feet so the arrow could chase after the rabbit before it flew through the air to rip it apart.

I love Satoru.

The small blade at the end of the arrow pierced through the soft white fur and entered the warm insides of the tiny internal organs of the frail creature. Blood started to leak out of it in small spurts and mixed delicately with the snow. Both colors merged into a beautiful pinkish shade. You both contemplated it, a pitiful yet poetic show, the soft color of strawberry ice cream spreading around the unconscious creature.

“If I were only family to you, I would have let you die on this day.” His sudden cold tone froze you up on the spot and shivers ran down your spine like waterfalls.

“Thanks to my reverse cursed energy, you’re still alive. Thanks to me.”

No… this was wrong. Your thoughts weren’t clear that day but you still could assure there was no trace of cursed energy manipulation whatsoever. You recovered after a few days with sleep and water, nothing more.

“Because you’re different for me.” His fingertips released your hand and fell like feathers on the swell of your cheeks. They felt cold yet so soft against your flaming skin. He suddenly looked so appeased, wise, and comforting to you. A godly figure believers would dream of at night, with wide open arms to shut their sorrow up. A heavy ball ascended in your throat and you felt the need to cry and vomit from the overstimulation of only looking at him. He offered anyone landing their eyes on his round pale nose, soft lips stretched to a smile and blue hydrangea-floating-in-spring-water shaded eyes, framed by sharp jawline, an ethereal memory they would treasure forever. He was a Venus, an Aphrodite as a boy. You wanted to belong to this young apollon, feel honored by his touch.

He lowered himself and graced your wet lips with a soft kiss, so silent but longing, letting his drag along yours from side to side, letting you taste it again and again, without restraint.

Everything was falling apart. The white was burning your eyes to the retina and the silence was a nightmarish cacophony. Your knees were trembling and you couldn’t hide the euphoria anymore, tears threatening to fall through your eyelashes.

“Cold..s’so cold..” you whimpered softly.

Closer. I love you. Let me say it through my entire existence.

Satoru collapsed on you as he clenched desperately and lovingly at your clothing, trying to tear it apart at the same time. The shift in his behavior has made him even more to fear, and to long for. You felt his hand, rougher, land on your face to squeeze both of your cheeks together, leaving your lips stand out like a fish, and he wasted no time devouring them hungrily as his wet muscle licked messily everywhere until it met with yours and forced you into a desperate dance. Your head hurt so much and felt like it was beating the same rhythmic of your hearts, so close they almost touched and you could feel them radiating red.

He buried his head in the crook of your neck and took deep animalistic breaths, hungry for your scent.

“Ha…I could have killed you that day…I- could have strangled you on the spot... You’re so fragile, -he laughed lightly- you’re my pretty little pipsqueak, my bird in her cage… ah… I love you…”

You let out a breath in surprise at those three last words. Tears became uncontrollable and you started to drown in it again. This euphoria. You were so happy, so glad he was the one telling you those words for the first time. You were sobbing and shaking like a small animal, a newborn.

You were glad to be born in this family.

“A-ah.. so glad.. so glad… love you so much.. Uncle Satoru…” you weakly whispered, trembling.

He dove right back into your lips and titled your head to the side to deepen the kiss, manipulating your head between his huge hands tinted in blue and red by the cold winter like you were a toy, using you as he pleases. He managed to slide his knee in between your bodies to caress the plump flesh of your inner thighs in a steady rhythm. You clenched hard on his shoulders for support, the fog you both were creating fuming out of your bodies and disappearing into the air like a bonfire. The rub of his legs soon became heated furious thrusts, a dedication to his frustration that you weren’t in his room right now, naked on his soft sheets, but in the middle of a forest, draped in heavy clothes. He mimicked a feral fucking, finding it purely erotic how easily you reacted despite the many layers of the hakama folds. Your small whimpers only fueled his fantasies of taking your innocence on his futon at night, have you bounce messily, un-experimented, on his cock while he helped you by grabbing the fat of your hips, his ears full with your heavy breathing and cries about how big he is.

He promised himself this would soon become a reality and that he would savor it fully.

This went on for an hour or so. Maids were furious when they found out your bloody clothes tossed in a basket at the entrance of the bathroom. The rabbit you clutched to your body on the way home was too small to be shared with the whole household at dinner, but they gladly took the fur and you promised Satoru you’ll try to make a scarf out of it. Your hair was still wet when you bumped into your father and his little brother having a casual conversation about a clan meeting coming next season. You learned that your uncle had to leave before supper after an urgent call from jujutsu Tech. “Adult business” he said to tease you, flashing a mocking smile, to which you responded with a pout.

“Aww, are you sad your beloved uncle is leaving so soon ?” He added, bending down to your level like you were a child clutching at her father’s robes.

“I’m relieved, actually.” You confidently declared, hands on your hips, teasing him back.

He laughed out loud and got up.

“Well, don’t be for too long, cause I’ll definitely be back for you to take your revenge on me at kyūdō.”

His hand met your hair, and ruffled it to make it messier.

“This time, I’ll bring you a souvenir, it’s a promise.”

True shooting, perfect hitting. This was your mistake.

You beamed at him and flashed a peace sign.

“See you next summer !”

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #it’s my first fic please be gentle #I started to write fics because of my wonderful friend munkey #you better follow them ok?#gojo smut

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