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#whoopsie did i turn you on?
resident-gay-bitch · 5 months
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Whoopsie, Did I Turn You On?
minors dni - steve x gn!reader, public humiiation, dom + submissive roles, sub steve, sadist reader, masochist steve, sexual themes, clumsy steve, mean reader
lmao idk what this is - it's a snippet from my unfinished kinktober list, so here, have it in november instead lol. enjoy? this is so random istg and i wote it at an ungodly hour but we live laugh love. i figured someone out there will get a kick or two out of this. enjoy!! :))
You can’t help it. It’s not like it’s your fault anyway, it’s all Steve’s. He just looks so cute today, strutting around in that too small polo and those snug jeans of his. His hair sits impossibly perfect and you often find yourself wondering how you managed to get yourself such a pretty little plaything. 
Not only does he look perfectly fuckable, having put on mascara again, and raspberry lip balm like he knows you like; he’s also a bit of a klutz today. 
This morning he dropped all his coins, with you standing over his shoulder, when trying to give some money to a busker. He tripped on the curb when running across the street to show you the flower shaped tart he got at the market. He kept missing the straw when trying to take a sip of his iced tea because he was too busy looking at you. And just then he almost stepped off the curb and in front of a cyclist whilst walking down the street because he was telling you all about his night with Robin yesterday, and trying to keep your attention. 
It’s fun making him stir. He always has your attention, you just like making him fight for it. 
He’s so obsessed with you it’s crazy, so desperate to please, and maybe if you were a good person you’d assure him that you love him, and stroke his hair and kiss the tip of his nose. 
But you’re not, not really. You’re mean, you like to play. And when Steve gets clumsy like this, fighting for your gaze to be on him and nothing else, you get horny. 
He flushes bright red every time he messes up. Passersby think he’s just embarrassed that he tripped or dropped something, but you know it’s because it turns him on. He likes being humiliated by you, giving you all the power. He likes when you make him feel more embarrassed than he needs to be. 
“Stevie!” You called, sitting down at a table under the pateo of a nice cafe. Steve had popped inside to place your orders whilst you nabbed a table. “Over here!” You waved at him. 
He came rushing over with a bright smile, leaning down to kiss your cheek before walking around to his side of the table. Only, he tripped halfway there, when you stuck your foot out in his path. 
He stumbled forward and gripped onto the table before falling flat on his ass, all the patrons of the cafe and people walking past on the street turned their heads to watch him embarrass himself. 
He looked up at you, red from the tips of his ears all the way down past the collar of his adorably tight shirt, his eyes a little glassy. 
You pouted down at him, mock sympathy, already noticing the growing bulge in his jeans, “Awh, poor baby… Did you trip?” 
Steve swallowed and looked around, rubbing his elbow where he bumped it, “Yeah.”
“How did that happen?” You asked with a filthy smirk, “You’re such a klutz today, got all your wires crossed.” 
He nodded his head, looking to the ground sheepish, his hands subtly moving to cover his erection from people still staring. 
“Come on, up you hop.” You smiled, reaching your hand out to aid him. “You look silly down on the ground like that, Stevie. It’s almost like you enjoy being humiliated.” 
You noticed Steve burn up red as he scrambled to his feet and sat himself down across from you. He looked so embarrassed, and so fucking turned on. You can’t wait to ruin him later. 
“I’m sorry.” He muttered, straightening his clothes out. 
“Don’t apologise, pretty boy.” You smiled, leaning over the table to whisper, “You look so cute all ruffled up and confused like that. Almost as gone as when I suck your pretty cock.” 
Steve choked on his sharp inhale of air and broke out into a coughing fit, right as the waiters brought out your coffees. You grinned at him, having a proud little laugh to yourself before thanking the waiter and watching them be on their way. 
Steve didn’t like that you looked at them, or talked to them. He wants your attention again, and you’re not going to give it to him right away. 
It’s only when he took a sip of his coffee and almost burnt his tongue on it, did you look at him again. 
“Such a dumb little whore, hmm?” You muttered, shaking your head as you sipped your coffee, “Always so desperate for my attention.” 
Steve gnawed at his lip and wiggled around in his seat, one hand down in his lap. You chuckled to yourself, watching him writhe. You’re sure he’s probably leaking from the pretty tip of his cock right now, staining his boxers and maybe even his jeans. You’d like to take him into your mouth right now and listen to him whimper and moan all pretty for you, tear him apart in the way he loves, only to be put back together and held by you after. 
But that’s to come later, no matter how badly you want it now; making him writhe like this all day is just so rewarding. 
After your coffees were finished and you and Steve had chatted for a while about the mundane things you often like to talk about with your boyfriend, you both made you way down the street again. He was desperate to hold your hand, leaning into you ear and practically begging for it. 
You let him, after he tripped over a lose brick and bumped into a random person, managing to stay upright. It still embarrassed him though, and that person said some rather rude words in response. 
He was smiling, humming happily as the pair of you walked along, hand in hand, when you decided to have a little bit of fun. Embarrass him one more time before letting him get what he so desperately wants, which is his weepy cock in your throat, and to touch you in whichever way you’ll let him. 
“Stevie.” You muttered, tugging on his hand, “You look so cute today, let me get a photo of you? How about you go stand by that tree?” 
“Okay.” Steve smiled and kissed your cheek again, he loves when you take his photo. You always make it your lock screen right after, every time you take a new one, even the filthy pictures. 
He rushed over to the tree you had pointed too and you took out your phone to snap a few pictures as he posed. You managed to get a few good ones before the sprinkler behind him soaked him in water, just as you had planned. 
Steve stood there as the water dripped down him, soaking and flattening his hair. People stopped to stare and laugh in the park, a person or two even snapped a photo. 
You laughed, you’d caught the whole thing on video, and posted it to your close friends story, tagging Steve. 
He rushed back over to you, drenched in water, cheeks red again. 
“Steve, you’re so stupid.” You said, “What were you thinking, standing under that tree, right where the sprinkler is?” 
“I- I don’t know.” He muttered, his hands in front of his crotch as he bounced from foot to foot, chewing at his lip again. His eyes kept darting around and everyone looking. “I’m stupid- I’m so stupid today.”
“Yes, you are.” You grinned, giving him a good once over and biting your lip. “My stupid boy, hmm? You must feel so humiliated.” 
Steve nodded his head. 
“We better get you home, before you do anything else dumb.” You said, turning to head back home. 
Steve chased behind you, his shoes squelching with each step. “Can I please hold your hand?” 
You laughed, pulling your hand away from him as you shook your head, “You’re soaked, baby. I’m not touching you, that’s your own fault for being so dumb, Stevie.” 
“Right… I’m sorry.” He swallowed, looking at you with big eyes and a pout. The epitome of a kicked puppy expression. 
“Guess we better get you all cleaned up in the shower at home.” You sighed, pretending like this was a chore you had no interest in doing. “And since you’re so dumb and clearly can’t do anything yourself, I better be there to help you.” 
Steve swallowed, his eyes lighting up and pupils dilating as he tugged at the crotch of his pants, “You’ll shower with me?” 
You looked at him and grinned, “Only if you be a good boy and stay on your knees for me, I don’t trust you not to slip and fall, dumb whore.” 
Steve actually moaned, and you had to slap a hand over his mouth so no one else could hear walking by. Sure, you liked watching Steve humiliate himself in public, but those pretty, sinful sounds were reserved for you, and you only. 
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explodingstarlight · 1 year
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ngl I was in the mood to draw an unhinged character today and I’ve been eyeing @snailsnaps "Programmed Obsolescence" AU for a hot second so,,,
AU Playlist (for funsies)
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wrestlezon · 1 year
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i learned a lot about subtitles today. mainly that i dont understand the standards or guidelines and that i did them in the worst way possible if i wanted to attach them separately to a twitter video. what a nightmare. not enough documentation. listen, dont be cute and overlap subtitle timings. spare yourself.
if you find yourself in a funny situation with exporting subtitle regions from davinci resolve and need to end up with an srt with no overlapping timecodes, download ttconv. my final message (passes away)
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tobiasdrake · 2 months
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*deep breath* Okay. Here we go.
I don't think the Netflix Avatar show likes women very much. It's a great show for fans of Aang, Sokka, Zuko, and Iroh specifically. All four of those characters get a ton of great material. In fact, it's super great for Sokka stans, because the show takes him ultra-seriously and can't go five minutes without one character or another (usually a woman) praising him.
But the way it handles its female cast is troublesome.
Katara
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So, all three of the main trio got some changes made to their stories. They changed Aang's story so that he wasn't running away from his responsibilities; He was just clearing his head and somehow accidentallied himself into a tsunami. Whoopsy-dooodle. Aang did nothing wrong.
They changed Sokka's story so that him being a leader of his people and a great guardian warrior is treated with complete seriousness. Multiple times, characters stop to talk about how brave and noble Sokka is for taking on such an intense responsibility, and tell him to his face what a great warrior and a wonderful leader he is. Also his misogyny is erased.
And they changed Katara's story so that she directly got her mom killed because she sucks at waterbending.
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Katara tries to waterbend to attack the Fire Nation soldier but couldn't manage it, provoking the soldier to start actively searching for her and forcing her mom to fake a waterbending attack and draw his fire. They changed Katara's story so that her bad decision making fucking got her mom killed.
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This is treated with the same level of severity as "Sokka was bullied by mean kids and also his dad doesn't think he's good enough to be a leader."
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"I hoped Sokka would do better but not everyone is meant to have people's lives in their hands," Sokka's dad says of him.
Yeah, you're right, that's totally comparable to watching your mom get barbecued because you tried to waterbend in a situation you shouldn't have and then failed.
In fact, they give Sokka's greatest trauma more weight because it gets examined again with Yue next episode, while Katara actively getting her mom killed isn't brought up again at all. We get traumatized glimpses of it throughout the season leading up to the reveal, but after this scene in episode 5, it never comes up again.
But to be fair, Katara was a child. An event this significant would surely have motivated her, driving her to become the great waterbender she is now, right?
No! Katara sucks at waterbending and needs men who aren't even waterbenders to teach her how to waterbend. She requires instruction from Aang in episode 1 to learn how to waterbend, then from Jet in episode 3 to learn how to waterbend better.
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And unlike the show, her relationship with Aang isn't a give-and-take; Katara doesn't teach Aang a single goddamn thing. He never learns to waterbend. She is a strictly a pupil throughout the whole season. Though she at least gets officially labeled a master in episode 8, so there's that.
In any case, the whole traumatic memory thing isn't even the only time she's directly compared with Sokka. Episodes 3 and 4 see Katara and Sokka bicker over whose morally dubious side character is better. Sokka likes the Mechanist and Katara likes Jet.
Ultimately, Katara is forced to eat crow when Jet turns out to be the worst, while Sokka is vindicated when the Mechanist sees the error of his ways and reforms. But not before two separate arguments where Sokka calls Katara childish and accuses her of acting like a little girl.
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Arguments ultimately resolved when Katara apologizes to Sokka for not adequately respecting his very serious and ultra important role as village protector and leader. Gives him a whole speech about how great and glorious he is. And Sokka... appreciates Katara learning to respect him properly, I guess, because he never offers any similar sentiments back to her.
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The show just... They need you to know how important Sokka is, okay? It's very important that you respect Sokka.
Suki
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Suki suffers tremendously from that whole "Sokka's misogyny was removed" thing. Y'know, because they need something else to do with that episode. The show is deeply aware that Suki is Sokka's love interest, so they just do that right off the bat. Suki falls madly in love with him from the moment they meet, and spends the entire episode making goo-goo eyes and trying to get him to Notice Me Senpai.
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They still do the "Suki Trains Sokka" stuff. But Sokka is a serious, dignified manly man worthy of the deepest respect now, so of course they don't make him wear the Kyoshi uniform. Instead, the main purpose of his training is to allow them to flirt some more. It's less martial arts training and more an excuse to grope each other and near-kiss.
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Suki's just a waifu now. She still fights real good, but all of the stuff that made her relationship with Sokka interesting has been erased.
Yue
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Yue, similarly, leaps straight to shipping from the word go. They write out her fiance, Hahn, by having Yue briefly meet Sokka earlier in the season. She spends one minute talking to him in the Spirit World about Spirit World lore; In that time, she falls so desperately, madly, unfathomably in love with him that she breaks off her marriage to Hahn and devotes herself to waiting for him to one day come to her.
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"Never have I known such joys as that time you let me explain the spirit bear Hei Bei to you. Truly, we are destined to be together for life."
Like with Suki, they go out of their way to have Yue and Sokka already be a ship from the word 'go' so they don't have to spend time developing any kind of meaningful attraction.
They just. They really want you to know that Sokka is the manliest and most desirable man ever to walk this earth. It is very important that you understand how great he is. Women hurl themselves into his arms with zero effort whatsoever, because he's just so goddamn irresistible.
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Fortunately, Hahn is super okay with this turn of events. He's the most chill guy ever, he gets along perfectly well with Sokka, and he completely supports Yue's right to dump him! In the famously misogynistic Northern Water Tribe, no less! What a swell guy. Aren't men swell?
June
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June gets hit with that "rewritten as hollow waifu" stick too, but her eyes are set on Iroh. They rewrote June to be super attracted and flirty towards the man who was her unwanted sexual harasser in the source material. So that's fun.
Also, she barely does anything. Zuko hires her to find Aang, she succeeds, and then she fucks right off out of the show - But she manages to find time to express how unbelievably sexy Iroh is twice during that time.
She seriously just dropped into the show to flirt with Iroh and leave. She is unbelievably inconsequential.
Kyoshi
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And then there's Kyoshi. They really want you to hate Kyoshi. She's constantly shot from below, as if looking down on Aang and the audience. Her voice takes on a demonic echoing reverb at one point as she's screaming at Aang that "THE AVATAR MUST BE A MERCILESS WARRIOR!!!"
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She despises Aang, calling him a coward for running away from his responsibilities - Which, I remind you, is no longer a plot point because they unwrote that flaw from his character. So she's just a complete and utter asshole, shot from the asshole angle, yelling violently at him with asshole sound effects. They want you to despise this woman.
Azula
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Awkwardly, they do not seem to want you to despise Azula.
There's a lot to be said for how Ozai treats Azula in the original show. The way the favoritism he shows her is every bit as cruel and manipulative as the unfavoritism that he shows Zuko. Ozai does not love Azula. He loves the reflection of himself he sees in her eyes, and his encouragement urges her to polish herself to ensure his reflection always shines through.
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This is not that. The show instead erases the favoritism entirely. Ozai doesn't really care one way or another about either of his kids. He plays them against each other, bragging openly to Azula about how great Zuko is and unpleasably writing Azula off as weak and useless.
They've rewritten the dynamic between abusive father and his two abused kids in order to take Azula's pride away. Reimagining her from a gifted prodigy who excels at imitating the toxic behaviors of a father who doesn't truly care for her, to a put-upon overachiever tearing herself in knots to live up to the standards of her unpleasable father.
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This results in a truly wild portrayal of Azula as insecure and jealous of Ozai's seemingly love for Zuko. Here, she is simply a browbeaten child constantly complaining to her friends about how mean her father is and conspiring to get one up over Daddy's Golden Child Zuko.
Which she fails at, because she backs Zhao. Zuko deftly defeats her without even realizing they're in competition.
Conclusion
The season ends well for some of these women. It ends promising that maybe we'll see Katara teaching Aang some day. It ends with Zhao bragging that Ozai just used Zuko to train Azula so maybe we'll see the more confident and misguidedly proud Azula some day. Yue becomes the moon like she's supposed to. June's still out there so maybe she'll get to do something again some day.
Katara gets to fight Pakku and lose, but she looks pretty cool. She gets to fight Zuko and lose, but she looks pretty cool. Azula learns to lightningbend because she's just so mad about Ozai's contempt for her and favoritism for Zuko, which isn't how you lightningbend.
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But promises of future content fall flat when the content that exists is so underwhelming. This season made its feelings on these characters pretty evident, and it's unwise to expect better material from creators who've disappointed you with the material they already made.
The women of Netflix Avatar simply do not get to shine, outside of superficial moments like the "Women of Northern Water Tribe demand the right to fight and then fuck off and don't do anything for the entire rest of the episode" bit.
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"In the midst of battle, we demand that you stop being sexist and give us permission to fight! This is a way better idea than convincing you to teach us to fight before the battle begins."
The characters of this show feel as if they've been reimagined to glorify the boys at the expense of the girls. The boys are treated with a great amount of care. They're dignified and made important movers of the plot, with their rough edges sanded off. While the girls are molded around them.
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tunatoge · 4 months
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pairing: teen!s. gojo x fem!reader (use of "mom")
contents: gojo fucks up tsumiki's talent show (whoopsies!), mention of smoking and swear words, slight slut shaming
“my parents are really cool—uh, hi mom… hi, satoru,” tsumiki announces to the group of students and parents during her talent show. you glance at gojo who holds his phone up like a proud dad, recording the entire thing as he gives tsumiki a thumbs up. “and they helped me with this,” she adds as she wrings her hands. “this is for you guys… and megumi.” 
you giggle as megumi shifts in his seat, his cheeks a soft pink. you stop laughing when an explicit song starts playing from the auditorium’s stereo system, tsumiki awkwardly dancing on stage to the music. you snap your head towards gojo, your mouth agape. gojo stands up as he whoops and hollers, still recording tsumiki. 
“that’s my daughter!” he shouts as parents rush to cover their kids’ ears. “yeah, tsumiki! you’re doing great!” 
you cover megumi’s ears as you step down on gojo’s right foot. “satoru,” you hiss angrily, watching from the corner of your eye as the school staff struggle to pause the music. “what the fuck is this?” 
he looks at you, his blue eyes practically glowing in the dimly lit room. “what? it’s a good song!” he insists. 
“yeah,” you say as the music pauses and tsumiki bows before skipping away. “for people our age while we’re out clubbing and drinking! that was so inappropriate for kids!” 
satoru sits down next to you, ignoring the way the other parents glare at him and curse him out under their breath. “she told me she wanted to stick out so i told her i knew what to do!” 
you frown and you uncup your hands from megumi’s ears. he glares at gojo with you, easily knowing gojo fucked up. 
“i thought we agreed you’d stop helping the kids with their talent shows after you told megumi that using jujutsu for a magic show was a good idea,” you hiss, briefly turning around and apologizing to the angry mom behind you who kicks at your feet. 
“god,” the mom hisses after seeing your face, “of course it’s some stupid teen parents.” 
you frown at her words, keeping megumi from jumping up and attempting to fight the lady. you excuse yourself, squeezing past knees as they look at you and glare. 
“did you hear what that little girl said?” someone whispers to their partner as you walk by. “she said mom and satoru, not dad. that’s gotta be one messed up family.” they snicker. 
you grit your teeth as you move towards the exit, quietly squeezing out the door and pulling a pack of cigarettes from your jacket pocket. you always knew you and gojo were going to face backlash for raising tsumiki and megumi while being kids yourselves, but you never thought you’d be facing it yourself after the kids had taken to calling you mom and refused to call satoru dad. you sigh and move away from the school building, taking a cigarette between your lips. you dig around for your zippo, frowning when you can’t find it. 
“i thought we agreed you’d stop smoking,” gojo says behind you. you look up at him, tsumiki in his arms and megumi next to him. 
you swallow as you place the cigarette back in its box. “not like i could’ve smoked it anyway,” you say as you take megumi’s hand in yours and walk towards the car. “i lost my lighter, the one suguru gave me.” 
“i have it.” you look at gojo as he digs around in his pocket and pulls out your tarnished silver zippo lighter. he flips it around and around in his hands, index finger gently running over the engraving on its side. “hand me your cigarettes and i’ll give it back to you.” 
you sigh as you unlock the car door and situate megumi into his car seat. “i don’t need it if i’m not smoking.” you buckle megumi in and gently ruffle his hair before shutting the door. 
gojo sighs as he sets tsumiki in the car and shuts the door. “what’s wrong?” he asks, rounding the car and taking your elbows into his overly large palms. he smooths them up your triceps, touch airy and light. “you only ever feel the need to smoke when something’s bothering you.” 
you sigh as you lean into his touch. “i’m just tired of people assuming i’m some whore who spreads their legs for anyone. it really hurts when parents look at me with so much disgust when tsumiki or megumi call me mom.” you lean forward and press your forehead into gojo’s firm chest. 
“y’know,” gojo starts as he rests his chin in your hair, “those parents probably would have never stepped up like you did. you gave up the rest of your childhood for theirs and those stupid adults will never know that.” he pulls away and carefully looks you in the eye. “they can assume as much as they want, pretty, because the four of us know the truth and the truth is much stronger.” 
you let out a choked laugh as you press your head back into his chest. “yeah, you’re right. they’re just some stupid old people.” 
gojo laughs as he fully wraps his arms around you, rocking you back and forth in the parking lot of tsumiki’s school. 
megumi swings his door open. “can we go home now?” he calls. “tsumiki’s tired.” 
you laugh as you pull away from gojo and wipe at your eyes. “yes, we can,” you respond, digging in your pockets and handing gojo your cigarettes. he smiles and hands you your zippo in return. “mom’s gotta have a long talk with dad once we get there.” 
gojo grins at the way you laugh at megumi’s scrunched up face. he’s thoroughly glad that it was you who stepped up with him.
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blkgirl-writing · 5 months
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The massive list of SFW and NSFW Gale Dekarios headcanons
Gale of Waterdeep x Reader (Gn! for the most part)
A/N: the more I write Gale, the more in love with him I am. I started this before patch 5 and haven't been able to play it myself, so whoopsies if I just have to make another one of these. Lots of requests included in this one, to be expanded on later!
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Gale is the most caring partner in the whole group. Followed by karlach and Wyll
He would much rather do everything for you than anything for him
This means he often over extends himself for you and you have to convince him to let you help him
Quality time and words of affirmation are his main love languages. All he wants is time alone with you, and he will do so much to make that happen
Gale actually sets up his tent to be as comfortable as possible because you don't have your own tent, and he doesn't mind at all if you sleep in his
eventually you basically just sleep in his tent exclusively, platonically at the moment. Sleeping on other sides or with a blanket between you
It isn't until you wake up from a particularly bad nightmare that your accidental touches aren't followed by apologies. Not quite embracing but not flinching away
He held you that night, wrapping his arms around you, his hands were big, soft, and comforting. He didn't speak until you did, who knows how long that was. All he said was "You're safe. It's ok."
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He truly believes he doesn’t deserve you and that weighs kind of heavy on him
That shows in his body movements, confidence, still hesitant to be close to you physically in an extremely subtle way
With more flirting, more talking, more late nights close together, but still apart, still a gap in your embrace
Gale is still in touch with his sexuality and sex, but sex is different than love making. And he knew, when he fully let you in, when he’s finally stable and his mind, body, and soul were ready, he’d make love to you
Your first time together was for the most part, pretty talked through. You set your boundaries and safe word pretty fast
He’d stop at some point, pull back and just admire you
Stop is used lightly because he’s definitely still inside you and just very slowly still pumping in and out of you
“You’re absolutely ravishing.”
And he’d give himself fully to you
Gods he’d be all over you after, so touchy, even if not sexual in nature, any tough felt electric
Gale holds your waist more than your hand, it feels more romantic, showing you off to the world as someone that chose him. It’s really sweet, the first time he does it, he hand trembled a bit, he thought he was smooth enough for you not to tell but you could definitely feel it
Don’t get me wrong, he is confident and cocky at times, everyone knows that. But with you somehow, he feels nervous that you deserve more than he could give
Part of your early relationship is making sure he knows he’s wanted and loved and more than anything you could have wished for
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Cuddling is always fun because it usually end up with fucking
If you’re the big spoon? He becomes such an angel and snuggles into your touch
If he’s big spoon he’s immediately turned on by everything, you being so close into him, your ass pressed against him, so many beautiful places for him to touch
Always ends in side fucking, just pulling your underwear down just enough to grind his cock on your bare ass
It’s also just convenient and easy if you’re getting busy while the others are sleeping in camp
But many days your time has you weak and just ready for rest, but you're both more horny than tired
that's when mutual masturbation becomes a daily routine, which never really leaves, even when you aren't as tired and have more privacy
he likes you call you his cherished work of art, seeing you spread for him is like a painting
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One night in baldurs gate, you stay up into the morning drinking and talking in a bar, they only kicked you out when they literally were an hour last close, keeping it open because you had bought so much
It was literally anything, just talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Past pets, stupid haircuts growing up, embarrassing failures
That was the night everyone else really realized how deeply in love you two were
Like sure there was romance but real true love, with sparks
They absolutely made fun of you when you finally stumbled to your camp and passed out all day crammed into the small one person beds
I like to believe Astarion drew a stick figure version of y’all’s sleeping position to make fun of you when you woke
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Once you’ve moved in with him he gets more and more turned on by you every day
You could be doing nothing and he’d grab your thigh and give you such a dirty look of lust
Not even three months in and ya'll have fucked on every surface possible, knocked over many books, and accidentally broke a vase and a bit in the shower
For the most part, your cozy days consist of him reading, and you beside him, feet resting on his lap
If you're a bard, of course he's going to ask you to practice and play around him and while you relax together, his favorite sounds all come from your sweet melodies
if you drink you definitely share a bottle of wine throughout the day
When Gale get's tipsy he just gets lovey and nerdy
telling you about a favorite bit of history or a spell, interrupting himself to compliment you "Gods you're beautiful, have I told you that today, dear?" and "And that's how the stars fell in love with- that top is stunning my love, mind if I take it off?"
cooking is fun yet very stressful unless he has a drink in hand
it's his kitchen and he's not used to company in it, so he often bumps into you or doesn't know where to say something is, so he just ends up getting it for you
I have a feeling this man is super into coffee and the roasts
like he's an absolute snob over it. A whole glass cupboard is dedicated to bags of coffee from where ever he travels
"Just too dark of a roast, it muddies the hazelnut flavor" (yes I believe he's a whole bean light roast lover)
Maybe you get a normal, non-speaking cat for yourself and just to have a bigger family in your home
I'd imagine a very reckless black or ginger cat who tara takes a VERY long time to love
but it's your and Gales cat. It's a thing you own together and love dearly
There's also a self of cards, board games, etc, for your date nights in
Gale legitimately is just as happy if you win than if he, if not more happy for you
He often takes a while to take his turn because he's distracted by you
super sweet but makes games feel much longer
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@shyminnie07 @makers-breath @claryvoyantfray @black-sapphic @fapqueen
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jazzyoranges · 5 months
Text
Recognizeable
Wednesday Addams x fem!shapeshifter!reader
Summary: based on this ask!
Words: 1.4k
A/n: this kinda doesn’t have a plot 😭 whoopsies
Warnings: blood, wounds, i swear it’s not angsty R just takes a small tumble lol
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“Did it hurt?”
“What, when I fell from heaven?” You crack a smile at your very hilarious joke, but Wednesday does her version of a huff and an eye-roll
“Apologies, I should have elaborated better.” You wince a little in pain as Wednesday disinfects the open wound on your knee and the smaller cuts around your body
The Addams girl was taking Thing and her pet bird, aka you, for a walk outside Nevermore in the forest that surrounded the academy as she watched you loop around in circles. She’d assume you were training for some competition if she didn’t know your personality enough, but Wednesday ultimately came to the conclusion you just had the bird equivalent of zoomies
You squawked at other birds as you passed them by in their trees, and Wednesday made a mental note to ask you if you could actually talk and understand them. Her hypothesis was that you couldn’t and you were just making animal noises for your own amusement
Either her hypothesis was true and you had no idea what you said, or you knowingly called a bird a slur. The previous was probably true due to the horrified expression on your face as a murder of crows you were “talking” to started chasing you down. You must’ve squawked something real bad for all of them to come after you.
You miss the smirk Wednesday has on her face.
The crows must’ve overwhelmed you pretty bad, because next thing she knew you were hitting every single branch of a tree in human form. Was that intentional? She’d have to ask you about it later. After she made sure you weren’t dead, of course
Wednesday arrived just in time for you to almost slam straight into her head, but a simple side step caused you to eat shit instead. There was a very noticeable and loud thump when your head hit a tree root. Wednesday would’ve been more concerned if you didn’t immediately curl into the fetal position, mumbling about how you’d take a nap right then and there
Either shapeshifters were gods, or you just had a really fucking thick skull. Wednesday internally smiled at the thought.
The Addams girl was well aware of the smelling salts in her backpack for times like these, but she looked at Thing for what he wanted to do to get you up. You could wait… probably.
After some inspection, Thing decided it was best to call Enid to carry you back to their dorm. The wound on your knee would only make you limp and cause more pain.
Wednesday made sure to keep you alive, though. She poked you with a stick here and there and gave you reassurance, which she saw you smile at.
You were prone to accidents. Both of the Addams knew you were fine. Truly, it was just another Tuesday. Wake up, go to class, take girlfriend and Thing on a walk, you break a bone, it was all a part of the schedule
It wasn’t even a shapeshifter thing either, you just refused to die. Which the Addams was ultimately grateful for, but your ability to visit death like a close friend had Wednesday just a little jealous
A groan of pain from the back of your throat brings the shorter girl back to the present
“Why did you turn human in the middle of the sky?”
“Whenever I shift I have to really concentrate on it the entire time, so I guess those crows just really fucked me up and messed with my focus” You sigh
“Is it hard? To keep concentration, I mean.” Wednesday starts to wrap the bigger wound on your knee with a bandage wrap
“I’ve been doing it forever, so it’s kinda easy. Not when you’re getting jumped by crows, though…”
“Could you not just shift a pair of wings for yourself?”
“I was already focusing on having the thick skull of a ram.” You knock on your head for effect. “How do you think I haven’t died yet?”
Oh so it was a shapeshifter thing. She was right about your thick skull, though
“Perhaps you should tell Enid that,” Wednesday gets up from her kneeling position in front of you. “She almost fainted carrying you on the way here and I have reason to believe it isn’t because you’re heavy.”
“Maybe I should get her something as compensation…” You mumble to yourself as Wednesday helps you out of the bathroom, using her as a crutch so you can flop onto her bed
The Addams girl sits beside you, your face buried in her sheets. Both of you fall into a comfortable silence as Wednesday continues to stare at you, her mind coming up with endless questions about your abilities.
If concentration was a constant concern, was Wednesday not giving you not enough credit? To focus on multiple tasks at once, surely it was hard for someone as air-headed as you. But then again, you have been doing this for your entire life. Did your concentration come as easy as breathing? Was it so natural you barely noticed it?
And surely the process hurt, right? Your molecules were repositioning themselves to fit the look of an entirely different being. What was there a difference between you and Weems?
What were your limitations? Wednesday would like to test them. Maybe if she’d ask kindly enough you’d-
“Ask your questions, Wens” You mumble into her soft bedsheets, your voice snapping Wednesday out of her thoughts
“Pardon?”
“We’re girlfriends. You can read my mind as much as I can read yours”
“And your logical explanation for that, is..?”
“Girlfriend magic.” You hold up your hands while shaking them, and Wednesday immediately recognizes the jazz hands you had quite an addiction to
“Another day, it’s best you rest.”
This makes you turn your head to look at Wednesday, a smile threatening to take over your face
“I don’t understand why people don’t believe me when I say you’re the romantic one” You gush
“Unless you want me to bombard you with questions until morning rises, I’d suggest you stay quiet.”
“Yes ma’am” You pull down Wednesday on her bed, shoving your face into the shorter girls collar.
From that day forward Wednesday asks you one question a day about your abilities, and you make sure to answer them as best as you can. It was something Wednesday appreciated about you.
Answers would span from 15 minutes to almost 2 hours long. There were some days you had to pull out the whiteboard that was collecting dust in the bee shed, writing and drawing out key information
At first it was casual, it really was. But a month later it was almost like class with how the Addams had a book and a half filled with information about you. A class Wednesday could actually get behind.
She’s learned every shapeshifter is different. Some turn into people, some turn into animals, and others can turn into both. So the book and a half was really just information about you, which Wednesday wasn’t exactly opposed to
Meditation seemed to be a pretty big thing to you. Whenever Wednesday was writing, you’d be meditating. At first the Addams questioned if you were compatible being in a room with her loud typewriter, but you insisted the noise was necessary for you to tune out
Another thing Wednesday learned is that you couldn’t exceed four limbs. Which, you made sure to voice your opinion on. The dreams of being a four-legged and two-winged western dragon was impossible, so unfortunately you’d have to make your peace with being a wyvern instead
Small snores came from you curled around Wednesday under a tree as a tiger. She could only focus on how you always somehow resembled your human face
Turning to a new page of her journal, the Addams girl starts to sketch the face of your tiger next to the one of your lion. No matter what form you’d take, Wednesday would be able to recognize it.
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ellecdc · 1 month
Note
DONT TEASE ME WITH PLATONIC BARTY AND BIG BRITHER SIRIUS STOP IM ON MY KNEES PLEASEE 🪩
okay so this accidentally ended up being almost 5.5k words??? whoopsie daisy.
this concept was a collaboration with @unstablereader and also intertwined a few requests for best friend Barty, big brother Sirius, and poly!moonwater hurt comfort!!
poly!moonwater x fem!reader who was bitten over the winter hols
CW: Best Friend Barty (i.e., swearing, chaos, slight insanity), Big Brother Sirius (i.e., coddling, bad cop, certified dumbass), swearing swearing swearing, slight muggle blasphemy, description of wounds/blood/injury, discussion of Sacred 28 Pureblood Families, etc etc etc - hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending
Barty Crouch Junior was a plethora of dichotomies and contradictions. 
He was a good friend and a bad son. He was a smart boy who made horrible ideas. He was a rational person with unreasonable reactions. He was a menace and very reliable. He was a good lay and a bad boy. 
Barty liked that about himself though; he liked that no one ever knew what to expect when it came to Bartemus Crouch Junior. 
Though, he supposed to those who knew him, it would have been completely predictable for him to have stayed at Hogwarts over the winter holidays. Maybe he should have gone home – really surprised everyone then.
His nightly routine of trying to incendio Daily Prophet articles of his father with nonverbal and wandless magic was interrupted by an awkward thump on his dorm room door. 
“Come in?” Barty called awkwardly, unsure who might be at his door seeing as his friends were all home for the holidays and the staff here tended to avoid him like Dragon Pox.
The doorknob began to rattle but it sounded as if the person on the other side of the door was struggling to turn it.
“Salazar’s saggy balls. WHAT!?” He seethed as he ripped the door open, determined to teach whoever was stupid enough to bother him a lesson when he came face to face with you.
Except...except you were crying, and bloody, and so pale.
“Treasure!?” Barty squawked, awkwardly catching you as you began to slide down the door frame which you were leaning the entirety of your weight on. 
“Barty...I-” you started before a pained sob tore through your teeth. “I need help.”
“What happened?” Barty asked breathlessly, moving you from the door to his bed without your help after your left leg gave out on you.
“Barty...”
“What. Happened. Y/N?” He demanded.
“Barty, you cannot- cannot tell Reg and Remus. Pl- hnggh - please promise me you won’t tell them.”
“Tell them what, Treasure? What’s wrong!?” Barty pressed, beginning to panic when his bedding quickly became saturated with your blood. 
“Promise me!” You shrieked, your voice carrying the most clarity since you had arrived.
“Okay! I promise!” Barty agreed readily. You didn’t seem convinced, however.
You shakily held your pinky out to him and stared intensely at him. “Promise me that y-, that you will not tell Remus or, or Regulus.”
Barty looked between your eyes and your pinky before finally interlocking your pinky with his. “I promise I will not tell Remus or Regulus.”
More tears fell as you began pulling your long winter robes off. You were wearing a long sleeved shirt and long trousers, but Barty could tell most of the bleeding was coming from your leg. Your fingers were shaking too much as you unsuccessfully tried unbuttoning your trousers, so Barty silently asked for your permission before undoing the button and zip for you.
You pulled the pants to your knee to expose a large...werewolf bite on your left thigh.
“Treasure.” Barty breathed out horrified, looking back up at you with tears in his eyes. “What...what happened? No, I ... I can see what happened. How did this happen?”
“I...I just-”
And you passed out.
“No! No no no. Nononononono.” Barty chanted as he tried to rouse you awake.
“Okay Barty, come on, think. You didn’t achieve all twelve O.W.L’s for naught.” He berated himself, lying you down on his bed and pulling your trousers the rest of the way off.
He turned you onto your right side and tried elevating your leg to stop the blood flow after he realized a simple episkey was not going to close the wound.
He realized that the reason you’d been struggling to open the door was that your wrist appeared to be broken, and you’d been leaning onto the doorframe to keep your weight off of your injured leg. That he could fix with an episkey, so at least he wasn’t completely useless. 
His sweet, sweet Treasure. Bitten. By a werewolf!? Your parents...
Oh gods, your parents.
That’s why you were here.
You couldn’t go back home, not as a werewolf; your parents would kill you. The only thing worse to a Sacred 28 Family than a dead daughter would be a werewolf one.
Fuck. 
Fuck fuck fuck fuck.
Any why couldn’t he tell Lupin and Regulus!? Lupin was probably the only person who could actually help you right now. Barty hated that – hated that someone else could help you and he couldn’t – but he also loved that you had people who loved you and could help you.
Fucking fuck, he was supposed to be burning moving pictures of his father right now, not trying to bring his best friend back from the brink of death.
“That’s enough Treasure, you need to wake up.” He muttered, shaking you by your shoulders gently. When that still didn’t work, he cast a quick rennervate. 
You groaned in pain and tried rolling onto your back. 
“No, Y/N, you need to stay like this. I need you to tell me what happened.”
You moaned again and turned back towards him; eyes shut tight in pain. 
“I...I needed to leave I, I – ugh.”
“Okay, okay. So you left, that much I can understand. How’d you get bitten?”
“I didn’t, I didn’t know it was there until it was too late, Barty. I swear it. I was following the trail behind my-my house and it just appeared! I fell back- backwards onto my arm when it lunged and I apparated once I realized what was happening, but it was...it was too- too late.”
“Where were you trying to go?”
“The Potter’s.”
“And why can’t you go there now?”
You opened your eyes at that, and Barty felt his heart fall out of his ass at the amount of pain that spilled from your eyes that had nothing to do with any of your various physical injuries.
“Rem... Rem hates himself. He hates The Wolf, he ha- hates his lycanthropy; he thinks he is a m... monster and deserves nothing. Barty, he’ll hate me.” You broke into a sob at the end of your sentence and Barty was very close to joining you.
He didn’t think you were right at all, mind you; he thinks it’d be rather impossible for anyone to hate you, least of all Lupin who seemed completely lovesick for you and Regulus. He didn’t think it was worth your energy to argue with you about it though, seeing as he already pinky promised not to go to the lycanthrope or your other boyfriend about this.
He didn’t know what to do, though. He needed to close this wound and stop the bleeding, he needed to pilfer from the infirmary, he needed to pilfer the potions supply closet, and he needed to figure out how to help a werewolf. And he needed to do all of these things whilst somehow not leaving your side at all. 
“I’m tired, Barty.” You murmured quietly, startling him from his internal panic.
“You can’t sleep, Treasure. Not until we close this wound and stop the bleeding.”
He pulled out his third year DADA textbook to find the chapter on werewolves. 
“Dangerous creature this, loss of moral sense that, right then – powdered silver and dittany applied to a fresh bite wound.” Barty recited as he read off his textbook. He looked over to your wound, still oozing and bleeding, though the new angle and elevation did seem to be helping staunch the blood flow at least a little.
“Right... fresh enough I suppose.” Barty sighed, making you promise to stay awake long enough for him to raid the potions supply closet and the infirmary to get the necessary ingredients.
Barty had been feeling quite confident in his plans.
Except something was very, very wrong.
The dittany and powered silver bubbled slightly where it interacted with your blood and flesh but didn’t seem to be sticking to your wound at all; it seemed that it was just causing you to moan in agony as Barty uselessly tried spreading it over your leg.
“You’re sure it was a werewolf that bit you?” He asked again. Barty was certain that if you were feeling better, you would have kicked at him.
He wished you could have kicked at him.
“Yes, Barty.” You cried.
“Oh, Treasure, I’m sorry.” He lamented, putting down his bowl of useless silver paste and brushing sweaty hairs away from your forehead.
“Salazar, you’re burning up, Y/N.” He commented, cupping your heated and flushed face with his hand. 
“I’m cold.” You argued, awkwardly trying to pull at his bedsheets to cover your arms. Barty hated to add more layers on you when your fever was this high, but he couldn’t really bring himself to deny you, either. 
Unfortunately, it appeared that Barty needed help. 
Unfortunately, Barty made you a promise.
Fortunately, there were ways around that. 
Unfortunately, that meant having to resort to a fate worse than death.
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“Oh! Hello there.” Mrs. Potter greeted Barty as she rounded the corner after being alerted by the house elf that there was a student at the floo. “Are you looking for Regulus?”
Barty adorned his most charming (and least maniacal) grin as he bowed politely to Mrs. Potter like the proper Pureblood he'd been beaten raised to be. 
“Euphemia Potter – looking as smashing as ever.” He said before returning to his full height. “Actually, I’m here for the lesser Black brother today.”
Mrs. Potter narrowed her eyes at his comment but pursed her mouth as if fighting back a smile.
“Am I to assume you’re referring to Sirius, Barty?”
Barty sighed in admiration. “Smart and pretty, Euphemia; how do you do it?”
“I’ll be right back, Mr. Crouch.” Mrs. Potter called over her shoulder as she left the floo reception room. Barty quickly pulled out the charmed compact mirror he had connected to a hand mirror which he had set up beside you before he left. You were asleep and shivering violently, but you were alive.
Help is coming, Treasure. 
“Oh.” Barty heard, causing him to close the mirror and look up to see a confused looking Sirius pausing mid-step into the room. “Sorry, I’ll go get Regulus for you.”
Barty scoffed derisively. “Oh, come off it Black – give the woman a little credit, yeah? I asked for you. Now let’s go.” He barked, turning towards the floo flame.
He turned back when he realized Sirius wasn’t following him.
“Hello??” He called sarcastically. “Did you not hear me? I said let’s go.”
Sirius looked Barty up and down and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“Why in the hells would I go anywhere with you?” Sirius asked bemusedly. 
“Black!” Barty seethed. “I do not have time for this, we have to go now.”
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what this is about.”
Barty sighed and looked down to the hells for patience or possibly extra strong demonic powers to get through this conversation with Sirius. 
“Where is Regulus right now?”
Sirius considered Barty skeptically but answered, nonetheless. 
“Upstairs with Remus.”
Barty looked at Sirius at that. “Is it safe to assume he is helping him recover from last night?”
Sirius’ face fell and he levelled Barty with a hard glare. “What the hell are you on about, Junior?”
“Black, please believe that there is absolutely nothing in this realm that I’d rather be doing than sitting here asking for your help but I’m here doing just that.”
“For what?”
Regulus was here, and Regulus was helping Lupin, which meant that Lupin was also here with his supernatural hearing. Barty made you a promise – he would not tell Regulus or Remus what has happened.
“I need your help, because I’ve found a lost Treasure that seems to be in some Trouble.” Barty explained slowly, praying to every god that Sirius would pick up on his not-so-subtle clues.
Sirius’ eyes stayed narrowed at Barty before they grew comically in understanding. 
“Where is-”
“Not here.” Barty interrupted. “Grab your things and come with me.”
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“I have so many fucking questions.” Sirius muttered as he stepped through the floo, somehow ending up standing in the Slytherin common room. 
“Like?” Barty asked in a bored tone.
“How the hell did you manage to connect the floo network to the Slytherin common room?” He started, realizing that it probably wasn’t the most important question, but it seemed to take precedence in his mind.
Barty turned to sneer at Sirius, though his steps never faltered as he sped towards what Sirius could only assume was his dorm.
“Really, Black? I tell you that your future sister-in-law is in dire need of your help, and that’s what you’re- you know what? I’m not surprised. The floo network is easy to manipulate so long as you know how to dismantle ancient wards.” Barty explained dismissively.
 Easy. Dismantle ancient wards. Sure.
“What’s wrong with Y/N?” He asked much more seriously. Most (though not all) of the contempt drained from Barty’s face as he stopped in front of a door. 
“She...she was bitten.”
Sirius just stared dumbly at the absolute last person he imagined he'd be spending his morning with as he let that information process.
He wasn't given much time, however, as Barty quickly opened the door and disappeared into the room, clearly unbothered to see if Sirius was following him in or not.
“Treasure? Hey, hey; it’s okay. Look? I brought some help, okay? You’re alright.” He cooed at a curled-up form on his bed – your curled-up form.
“Oh, Trouble.” Sirius breathed out in disbelief, surveying your shaking and battered body before his gaze paused on your exposed thigh – clear as day was a large canine bite, still bleeding. 
“Oh, my girl.” Sirius cooed, feeling like he might be sick at the sight of one of his favourite people in the world in so much pain. It was very different from post moon care with Remus; Remus was seasoned, he was prepared, they were prepared.
You looked like you were dying.
“What’s wrong with her?” Sirius asked quickly, shaking himself and trying to force himself into action.
“Other than the very obvious werewolf bite?” Barty sneered. “She has a fever that won’t quit.”
“Take the blankets off.” Sirius ordered, earning him a whimper from your form.
“S’cold, Siri.” You whined.
“I know, Trouble, but you’re burning up.” He replied apologetically, pulling the blankets out of your currently much weaker grasp.
Barty looked like he was just as heartbroken as you were at the loss of the warmth, but clearly agreed with Sirius enough not to argue. 
“Mean.” You pouted; eyes still screwed shut in pain.
“I know, I’m the worst.” He whispered, casting a quick auguamenti and glacius on a rag and placing it on your head, earning him another protesting groan from you.
“Why’s her leg still bleeding?” Sirius asked, eyes still on your face as he used the cloth to wipe away the sweat from your features. He quickly prepared two more rags and placed them on the back of your neck and your chest. 
“I don’t know. I followed the instructions from our DADA textbook on werewolves – three tablespoons of powdered silver mixed with four tablespoons of dittany to create a paste. It did nothing but hurt her and aggravate me.” He admitted, sounding horribly dejected.
“Where’s the silver from?”
“Slughorn’s supply closet.”
Sirius groaned. “That’s why. The school buys the cheapest ingredients they can to keep costs low. That won’t be pure silver.”
“Well, where in the hells are we supposed to find pure silver then?” Barty groaned. 
Of all the times for Sirius to not be at Grimmauld Place anymore – that place was teeming with pure silver.
Pure...
Toujours pur. 
“Regulus.” Sirius whispered no louder than a breath. You didn’t seem to hear him, your lucid moment clearly over; but Barty did.
“I promised Y/N I wouldn’t tell Lupin or Regulus.” He explained plainly, causing Sirius to groan.
“Then what are we supposed to do?”
Barty turned his face to glare at Sirius. “I promised Y/N I wouldn’t tell Lupin or Regulus.”
Sirius rolled his eyes. “I heard you, Junior. So, what are we going to do then?”
Barty let out a long-suffering sigh. “I promised Y/N I wouldn’t tell Lupin or Regulus.”
Sirius’ brows furrowed and he cautiously lifted his hand to press the back of it to Barty’s head, checking for fever of his own. Barty aggressively swatted him away.
“Are you quite alright, Junior? Is this a stroke?”
“I need you to listen to me very carefully, Black. Okay? Are you listening to my words?”
Sirius nodded at him as Barty grabbed Sirius by the shoulders and stared imposingly into his eyes. “I – Bartemus Crouch Junior – promised that sweet, lovely Treasure you call Trouble over there, that I – Bartemus Crouch Junior – would not tell Remus Lupin or Regulus Black. I promised her.” 
Now, Sirius feels it’s important to note that it was currently maybe seven o’clock in the morning, and he’d only just stepped out of the shower after washing away a night of romping in the woods around Potter Manor with Moony as Padfoot last night to be told there was someone at the floo for him; in other words, he was fucking exhausted. And to add to that, he had one of his least favourite people tell him that one of the worst possible things happened to one of his favourite people. So, sue him for what he said next.
“I don’t understand.” 
“Fucking son of a mother fucking cunt, I swear to that fucking muggle-religion-wizard-guy-that-caused-the-whole-brew-ha-ha-in-that-big-ass-muggle-tome I will shave that fucking head of yours and wear your hair as a wig; I cannot tell Lupin and Regulus.” Barty spat, though somehow managed to keep his voice low enough to not gain your attention.
“Yes, yes, yes. You promised her.” Sirius lamented. “You p- wait... you promised her. You promised her.”
“Thank Merlin and Morgana.” Barty groaned as fell to his knees in exhaustion, clearly more than thankful that Sirius had finally gotten it. 
“I’ll be back.” Sirius announced and started towards the fireplace in the Slytherin common room in order to retrieve his brother. 
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Regulus looked up from the pages of his novel to survey Remus’ form again. His boyfriend laid on his back with his head propped up on two pillows and his eyes closed as the soft morning light filtered its way through the sheer curtains and painted his features in its warm glow.
Regulus knew Remus was likely exhausted and sore and perhaps feeling awfully sorry for himself right now, but Regulus wasn’t sure he ever looked more beautiful. 
“You should take a picture; it’ll last longer.” Remus commented dryly, never bothering to open his eyes as a smile danced on his lips.
“Ha ha.” Regulus deadpanned, returning his gaze to his book with a blush taking over his face.
“You worry too much, love. I’m okay.” 
“I know you’re okay.” Regulus argued.
“Yet you still worry?”
“Yet I still worry.” 
Regulus heard Remus’ head turn against his pillow, and he looked back up to see Remus regarding him.
“Have you heard from her by chance?” Remus whispered as if fearing the answer he knew was coming.
Regulus knew it was you who Remus referred to; they’d been waiting quite impatiently for your owl for the past few days.
You had promised to write as often as you could - every day if possible – over the winter holidays. The last correspondence they had with you was four days ago as you told them of some family gathering at your home.
He hated to be the bearer of bad news, but he could tell he was caught at the disappointed sigh from Remus.
“No, mon loup. I’m sorry.” Regulus admitted.
Remus let out another sigh and leaned his head back down on the pillows, squishing his eyes shut as if the pain of not knowing how you were was more painful than the current aching in his bones.
“Hey, Reg?” Regulus heard his brother call from the door. 
“He’s awake.” Regulus called back simply.
“How’re you feeling, Moons?” Sirius asked, walking towards the end of the bed with his hands in his pocket.
“Been worse.” Remus answered.
“I...” Sirius started, cutting himself off with a sigh.
“Spit it out, Sirius. We’ve not got all day.” Regulus drawled and put his book down. He couldn’t stop his heart rate from picking up when he noticed Sirius’ discontent, however; sudden flashbacks of Sirius standing in Regulus’ doorway begging him to pack his things and leave with him bombarding his mind.
“What is it, Pads?” Remus asked, seeming to pick up on his friend’s anxiety as well.
“I need your help.” He admitted. “It’s...it’s Y/N.”
Remus sat up all too quickly and winced at the cracking of his back.
“What is it? Where is she? Is she okay?” He asked, trying to free himself from the bedding that Regulus had tucked him into hours earlier.
“No, well, yes...she-”
“Where is she?” Regulus whispered in horror.
“With Junior. At Hogwarts.”
Regulus relaxed slightly to at least know you were safe at Hogwarts and with Barty, though that raised more questions than answers for him.
“How do you know that?” Regulus asked, all the while Remus continued struggling to dress himself despite his various aches and pains. 
“Junior told me.” Sirius admitted, finally taking pity on his friend and helping him dress whilst his boyfriend sat their uselessly. 
“Why did he tell you? When did he tell you?”
“This morning!” Sirius barked, clearly growing agitated, “listen, I just-”
“What happened to her, Sirius?” Remus begged, finally taking a moment to catch his breath and stare at his friend imploringly. “What happened to her that Junior told you and not us?”
Sirius swallowed thickly before he answered.
“She was bitten, Rem.”
All colour drained from Remus’ face and Regulus sat stock still.
“Was it me?!” Remus asked through a choked sob. This seemed to snap Regulus out of his uselessness and he reached for Remus’ shoulder to squeeze it affectionately.
“No, no. Moony, no one was there last night. I swear it.”
“What...why do you need my help? What do you need?” Regulus asked quietly, standing to pull on his own jacket and retrieving his and Remus’ wands from the dresser. 
“We can’t get the wound to close, and she’s got a wicked fever that we can’t bring down. She’s barely lucid, she's lost an insane amount of blood, and the silver at the school didn’t work to close it and-”
“No, it wouldn’t.” Remus agreed breathlessly.
“Why not?”
“Too costly to give pure powdered silver to a bunch of students who make throw away potions – they only use what works in the brew but not in practice.” Remus explained, groaning as he stood and quickly transfigured his suitcase into a cane on account of his hip after the transformation. 
“So, you need pure silver? Like... the ring!” Regulus whispered, hastily ripping the Black Family signet ring from his thumb and passing it to Sirius.
“We need to go now. She can’t afford to lose any more blood, and it should have been closed immediately.” Remus pressed, making his way to the door albeit a little shakily. 
Regulus was sick with worry; for you, your life, your future, your family, for Remus and how upsetting this must be for him as well, but something still wasn’t making any sense.
“Why did Barty tell you?” Regulus asked as they stepped through the floo into the Slytherin common room, making a mental note to ensure that it was closed before the rest of the students returned from winter holidays.
Sirius grimaced slightly and turned to look at his friend who he was supporting as they followed Regulus to the dorm room.
“She...she made him promise not to tell you guys.” Sirius admitted.
Remus’ steps faltered and Regulus turned, ready to help Sirius in catching him, only to notice that he wasn’t falling but rather had stopped walking all together.
“Why wouldn’t she want us to know?” Remus asked mournfully.
“I never did hear why.” Sirius admitted, encouraging Regulus forward with a nod of his head.
The three of them entered the room to find Barty sitting on a low stool beside you with his pinky interlinked with yours. Your eyes were still shut tightly and your breathing was shallow, but Regulus could hear Barty talking lowly to you and your occasional responses. 
“I like that song about the fighter, the writer, and the ruler.” Barty murmured quietly to you.
Your brows twitched as you gritted out “it’s Soldier, Poet, King.”
“Ah, right you are, Treasure.” Barty responded, looking over his shoulder at the new additions to the room. “You always know everything.”
“How is she?” Sirius asked as he dropped the signet ring inside the mortar and pestle and traded seats with Barty who began to grind it into powder, and Regulus and Remus moved to stand near the end of the bed to take in your form.
“Hanging in there, Black.” Barty responded to Sirius, though he looked at Regulus as he said it.
Sirius must have noticed Regulus’ death glare being pointed at Barty and opted to intervene. 
“Hey, Trouble?” Sirius asked you gently, brushing some of your damp hair away from your forehead. You hummed in acknowledgement without opening your eyes.
“Why didn’t you want Remus and Regulus to know, sweets?”
You whimpered as your face morphed into agony, eyes finally opening to look at Sirius through fat tears.
“Remus will hate me.”
Remus actually whimpered at that, clearly itching to move towards you, but not wanting to interrupt you.
“Why would he hate you, sweets?”
“He hates werewolves.”
Remus’ head dropped in shame as Regulus rubbed soothing circle into his back. 
“But he loves you, Trouble.” Sirius pressed, watching Remus all the while.
“Not anymore.” You sighed in resignation, closing your eyes once more.
“Always, dove.” Remus insisted. You squeezed your eyes tightly as if you were trying to convince yourself that he wasn’t there. 
“Do you hear me? I will always love you. There is nothing that could ever happen that would make me hate you, okay?” He carried on, slowly making his way to the other side of the bed in order to curl up behind you and pull your back into his front. 
You whimpered, though Regulus was sure it was less from physical pain and more in distress.
“What about Reggie?” You cried as Sirius continued rubbing his thumb across your forehead. 
“It’s almost ready.” Barty interrupted as he began measuring out the silver and dittany. 
“Reggie thinks the world of you, dove.” Remus murmured into your hair, looking over at Regulus imploringly. 
“You’ve got a lot of people who care about you, Trouble.” Sirius added. “We’re not going to let you do this alone.”
“It’s done, Treasure. We’re gonna fix you up.” Barty said as he made his way over, keeping his eyes trained on Regulus. 
“Dovey, this is going to hurt an awful lot, okay? But you’re so brave, you’re so brave and then you’ll feel all better, okay?” Remus spoke into your hair, keeping you pressed tightly to his form as you began to struggle against his hold. 
“Regulus, you need to be brave for her.” Sirius ordered, looking as severe as Regulus ever remembers his older brother being. 
What could Regulus have ever done to make you think it was at all possible for him to feel anything but love for you?
How could Regulus ensure that you never thought such things again?
“I’m right here, amour. Okay? You’ve got four of us here who love you, we’re not going anywhere.” He pressed, moving to take over Sirius’ place on Barty’s short stool as Sirius positioned himself close to your feet.
“I don’t want to hurt.” You cried, breathing becoming slightly erratic as Remus added more pressure in keeping your arms pinned to your sides.
“I know, amour. It’ll be over soon, okay?” Regulus tried, brushing hair away and pressing his lips to your overly hot forehead.
“You’re so brave, Y/N. We’ve got you, okay? Such a brave girl, come on babylove, you’re okay.” Remus chanted, looking over at Sirius as he pinned your ankles to the bed and Barty transfigured a stirrer in an applicator.
“Please. I don’t want to.” You begged.
“You’re so brave.” Remus repeated, pressing his mouth to the top of your head as his own tears fell into your hair.
“Do it.” Regulus insisted, not wanting to prolong this anymore.
Regulus nearly dropped his wand in his haste to throw up a silencing charm around the dorm room as your screams bounced off the stone walls in time with Barty’s first swipe of the ointment. 
Regulus couldn’t hear the words spilling from Remus’ lips, but he knew that he was whispering sweet encouragements to you as he cried in sympathy. Sirius looked to be using all his strength to keep your legs pinned down as you struggled, and his eyebrows furrowed on your behalf as well.
“You’re okay, amour. You’re okay.” Regulus insisted for both of your benefits, watching as Barty applied the last of the paste to your leg.
“Now what!?” Barty shouted over your agonized cries.  
“Breathe dove, breathe. The pain will fade, just breathe.” Remus coached, rocking the both of you gently back and forth as you sobbed.
“You’ve done so well, amour, so well. Ma courageuse fille; you’re so brave.” Regulus praised, taking both of your hands into his and pulling them from Remus’ grasp to press kisses to your knuckles. “Tu as si bien fait, tu es la personne la plus forte que je connaisse.”
It took some time and many more encouragements before your sobs decreased into pitiful hiccups and whimpers as you looked towards Regulus. 
“You don’t hate me?” You asked pitifully.
Regulus used his thumb to wipe away the tears that were still falling as Remus caressed your arms.
“It never even crossed my mind, cheri. I could never; non.” Regulus insisted. 
“I’m so sorry, dove.” Remus whispered into your head. “I’m so sorry this has happened to you.”
“Remus.” Sirius warned. 
“Not because it makes her any less lovely, Sirius. But because she doesn’t deserve it.” Remus explained. 
“I’m scared.” You admitted timidly.
“I know, dove.”
“Lucky for you, Trouble, you’ve got some seasoned professionals here.” Sirius added, nudging Remus’ foot. 
“Can I start the animagus process now, Rem?” Regulus groaned, looking at Remus pointedly. 
“I guess it wouldn’t be fair to make you sit out on full moons now.” Remus relented – he’d always hated the idea of putting the two of you in any undue danger, but he couldn’t deny Regulus of the two of you, nor you of Regulus; not when you would need him most.
“Wait, wait, wait.” Barty interrupted, moving his skeptical glance between the four of you. “You’re telling me that animagi can romp around with the likes of werewolves?”
Remus nuzzled his face impossibly further into your head as Sirius chuckled. 
“Werewolves don’t care about animals. In fact, it makes them quite happy to have a ‘pack’.” Sirius explained.
Barty laughed conspiratorially. “Well, sign me the fuck up. Regulus, I’ll buy the first mandrake leaf; my treat!” He called as he grabbed his jacket and wand and headed for the door, likely heading to Hogsmeade for supplies in his excitement. 
“Moony is not going to like him.” Sirius proclaimed flippantly, finally falling into a chair in exhaustion after Barty was gone.
“It’s not just about him, anymore.” Remus responded, pressing a kiss to your head. Regulus could tell your fever was reducing, though your cheeks were still flushed.
You had a lot to discuss; what happened, why it happened, and where to go from here. But for now, Regulus was just happy you were alive, currently safe, surrounded by people who loved you, and agreeable to him running you a bath. 
616 notes · View notes
cys-fic-library · 7 days
Text
Nighttime Affairs (The Ghoul/Cooper Howard x Reader)
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You and the Ghoul, Cooper Howard, have a complicated relationship with each other. One which involves him paying you some nightly visits when he passes on by that little home of yours out in the lonesome wasteland.
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Warnings: 18+, smut, vaginal sex, fingering, bit of orgasm denial, bit of dirty talking, creampie, biting (its cooper i dunno what you expect, he's going to bite you), oral - reader receiving, complicated relationship, bit of yearning/pinning, fluff, cuddling, kissing, splash of angst, not beta read
Pairing: The Ghoul/Cooper Howard x gn!afab!Reader (reader's gender is never mentioned but they do have a vagina)
Wordcount: 4256
a/n: made the smut a bit angsty at the end there by mistake. whoopsie daisies. Anyway, like it says above readers gender is never mentioned. But they do have a vagina (because I have a vagina, and I want to fuck the ghoul). Nothing about reader's chest is ever mentioned either. Also I usually write fluff/non smut fics, and only tend to post that. I have written smut before, but this is just my first time actually sharing some of it. So like ;-; Okie dokie? okie dokie.
Dividers by @/saradika-graphics (much love j ❤️)
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Nights in the wasteland were always a deadly affair. All sort of creatures made themselves known—both human and non-human alike—never having the friendliest of tendencies. It was why you always made sure that your windows remained boarded up. Double checking the door of your home to be firmly locked, before finally making your way to bed.
You always kept a gun hidden beneath your pillow as you slept. Easy to grab in case of a break in. Acting like a sort of safety blanket. Hoping that such a comfort would help you sleep soundly, though most nights you still found it difficult. Restlessness haunted you. Plagued your mind. Never truly able to rest easily—not with danger lurking around ever dark corner. 
 Sometimes that unease proved helpful. Such as tonight, while on the brink of sweet slumber, there had been a shift in the room. The sound of worn floorboards creaking jolting you awake. It wouldn’t be the first time some wanderer had tried to get the jump on you in the middle of the night. 
Hand quick to grab your gun, you point it at the new body in the room. Adrenaline pumping in your veins. Heart on edge. Ready to fire at a moment's notice. 
“Easy there sweetheart.” 
Your tired eyes blinked. Once. Twice. Trying to clear away your sleep clouded vision enough to properly comprehend the familiar figure currently standing in the center of your tiny room. 
“Cooper?” 
The Ghoul grinned at you in the darkness. Hazel eyes almost seeming to shine from the moonlight that managed to filter in. His head had tilted to motion to the gun in your hand. An amused hum leaving him. “Bit of a rude way to greet your guests.” 
“Wouldn’t call you much of a guest.” You lowered the gun and rubbed at your face with a sigh. “More of a nuisance if anything.” 
“Aw, your words wound me darlin’.” His words drawn out and mocking, as he feigned being hurt, before he had turned from you to continue removing his gear. Setting it all wherever he liked in your room. Acting almost as if he owned the place. Not a care in the world that he was currently invading your home uninvited. Again. 
You could only seem to roll your eyes as you watched him. “What are you doing here so late?” 
“Oh just passin’ through.” The Ghoul said with a casual hum. Pulling out his own gun, its barrel glinting just as his gaze had earlier, before he set it on your nightstand. The tossing of his hat onto your bedpost quickly following. “Needed a place to stay.” 
It hadn’t been a question. He wasn’t asking. Never really did when he chose to invite himself into your home. It used to scare you way back when you first met the Ghoul. You never knew if the next time he came would be the one where you met with a bullet. 
But you learned quickly that Cooper only ever did what he felt he needed to. Wouldn’t take the life of someone he found to be useful. He didn’t kill pointlessly like that. Everything had a reason with him. Even if you couldn’t quite see it at first. 
“Well why don’t just make yourself at home then.” You grumbled. Annoyed. A bit more bite to your words then usual. Though it hadn’t seemed to phase him in the slightest. 
“Already on it sweetheart.” 
You glared at him, but he continued to barely pay any mind to it. As you went to put your own gun back beneath the pillow, you had laid down again. Rolling to face the wall, and letting out a tired breath, as you tried to settle. Let the exhaustion claw at your mind and allow your eyes to flutter close. Trying to ignore him just as he did to you. “Just don’t make a mess.” 
The Ghoul hadn’t replied. Which had been a surprise. He always seemed to have something to say. But there was none of that. Instead there was only the sound of more shuffling in the room before the bed finally shifted with his added weight. Pulling you back from the brink of sleep just enough, as he joined you among the tattered sheets.
 Your bed was cramped. Meant for only a single soul, and yet that never seemed to bother him as he fit himself in how he liked. It didn’t take very long for you to feel the press of his cool body against yours. An arm finding itself around your waist, as lips sought out your neck and trailed over your skin. 
“Sleeping.” You said. Quiet. But still you shifted. Legs parting ever so slightly. An invitation you knew he wouldn’t refuse. 
You allowed him to take what he wanted—his true reason for being here—and he did so greedily. Without any ounce of hesitation, bare fingers smoothing down and slipping past the waistband of your pants into their front. Immediately finding the prize he wanted. Your breath hitching as they ghosted over your clit. Teasing. 
“Then sleep.” Lips caressed your ear. His breath hot on your skin. Rough hands had molded you into his liking. Feeling yourself growing wet beneath his fingers all too quickly, as two of them slipped into your heat at first chance. “Don’t bother me, none.” 
Desire bloomed inside you. Arousal coiling tight. He left marks where he could. Harsh kisses that had teeth grazing your skin. Fingers moving inside of you to pull any sound from your lips that he could. Touching you in ways that had you burning, as if you would be engulfed in flames at any second. Toying with your body and purposely bringing you so close to the edge without ever actually bothering to send you over. 
“Stop teasing.” You had shifted again. Trying to provide more space for his devilish hands.  Moving yourself against him to seek the feeling you so desired—that last bit of pleasure that he denied you so easily, and would continue to do so. 
“I thought you were sleeping.” His words had a teasing tone to their depths, as he nipped at your skin. Pressing himself closer. Grinding. His own arousal hard against your hip. Just as worked up as you were it seemed. But somehow still not nearly as desperate. 
“Was trying to.” You sighed out a moan. Leaning impossibly close into him. Hand gripping at his wrist tight as he worked you. Letting his touch consume your very being. “Hard to sleep with someone messing around in my pants.” 
The Ghoul chuckled. “Well let’s fix that then.” 
And suddenly his hands were slipping away. 
You felt your eyes open at the loss of him. Hadn’t even realized they were still closed until that moment. You had gone to protest. Reaching out in the darkness to try and stop him from leaving. But he hadn’t gone far. He had moved you to lay fully onto your back before you could really react. Your pants and underwear removed by him in an instant. Lost to the dark depth of your room's floor. Not to be seen again until morning light. 
The Ghoul loomed over you. Eyes amused, and hands gripping your thighs. He spreads your legs out for himself wide. Exposing your arosural bare before his gaze into the open room. Fitting himself comfortably in between. Almost like there was nowhere else he belonged in the world. Ready to devour you whole. 
And what was worse is that you’d gladly let him do so too. 
“Fucking filthy thing you are.” He had whistled as he looked down at the debauched display he had made of you already. Fingers moving below to run along your dripping lips. Sending another shiver of pleasure up your spine. “You’re soaking and yet I’ve barely done a thing.” 
You couldn’t help but squirm a bit beneath him. He hadn’t bothered to remove any of his own clothes, save for the jacket and gloves he must have tossed somewhere in your room. He never really did remove his clothes when fucked you. Couldn’t remember anytime you had even seen him without a shirt. 
At first you thought he had been shy over his predicament. He wouldn’t have been the first ghoul you met to have struggled with the change after all. But that had been a foolish thought, because Cooper Howard wasn’t ever shy. It was just another thing he couldn’t be bothered with. 
It wasn’t worth it to him to remove, simply put. Probably even still had his boots on at the moment. Trucking sand and only god knows what into your bed. You’d usually lecture him for it. But like with many things tonight, he wouldn’t give you the chance. 
Before you knew it he had leaned down to put his mouth on you. Sucking at your clit. Lips and tongue working you in all the right places. Fingers gripping your thighs to keep you open for him. Devouring you whole, almost like he had been starved for days. 
It didn’t take much of this for you to be brought to that edge. It had been so long since you last saw him—last had him—and his skillful tongue had your orgasm approaching rapidly. Your one hand fisting the sheets below while the other reached for his scarred head. Pulling him in impossibly close. Trying to keep him there. But true to his nature just as you felt those sparks begin to fly he stopped. Lips leaving you and letting your pleasure fall. Hot breath only fanning over your soaked folds. 
He did this often. Riled you up to the point of breaking. Allowing your pleasure to grow high before sending it crashing down again suddenly. Denying that bliss you always found yourself so desperate for when with him. 
Most nights you were brought to tears by it. Begging him to let you have that sweet release. Frustration with his teasing at its peak. Tonight you did not beg or plead though, not yet at least, instead you sat up to lean onto your elbows. Insult for him at the tip of your tongue, ready to lecture him for all he was worth, but any complaint you had quickly died in your throat.
 The Ghoul had bit your thigh. Hard. Whether to silence you, or just because he wanted to, you didn’t know. You just gasped. Trying to pull away, though his hands remained firm. Fingers digging into your skin almost too harshly and holding you in place. Only finally pulling back just enough to swipe his tongue over the mark he left. 
You had winced from the pain, the mark aching, but despite it your arousal only seemed to course through you still. Stronger even. “That was just mean.”
“You like when I’m mean.” He smirked as he sat up again to overlook you. Your blood still staining his lips. “Besides, you’re supposed to be sleeping. Remember?” 
“Yeah and who’s fault is it that I’m not?” 
“No idea what you mean sweetheart.” The Ghoul had let go of your legs then. Leaning back onto his knees to free himself. Belt unbuckling to pull out his aching cock. Squeezing himself briefly before guiding it to your drenched hole. Teasing at your folds.  “Just here enjoying what was given to me after all.” 
It was quick the way he entered. No ceremony or grace. No time to say another single word between you two. Barely gave time for you to gasp again. Sending a shock through your system. He didn’t wait. Thrusts downright filthy as he took you all for himself. Both of your moans and heated breaths filling the room. The air suddenly feeling suffocating and hot. 
Your hands had gripped at his forearms, hoping to ground yourself and failing miserably, all while his own fingers dug into your hips. You tried to meet his own cruel thrusts, but the rhythm he had set  was unrelenting. Pleasure all too consuming. He was right. You liked when he was mean. Liked how rough he was—enjoying how he just took and took from you. He filled you in ways that you knew ruined you for anyone else. And yet still you loved it all so very much. 
You were getting close again. Could feel your peak just at the horizon. Waiting to burst. You moved your hand. Fingers desperate to finally bring yourself that last bit of pleasure to send you over the edge that you’ve desired all night. The one he’s been denying you all evening. But of course he notices immediately. Knocking your hand away before you get any chance. 
“Not yet.” 
You all but whine at his words. Almost pathetically so. Tears finally prickling at the corner of your eyes from being denied by him once again. “Cooper.” 
“You know the rules.” He thrusts a little more roughly as if to punish you. A warning. “You take what I give you.” 
“Please.” 
“Look at you, the mess you are.” He groans out at your begging. Eyes burning hot with desire. Thrusts still unwavering.  “You’d let me do whatever I want to you if it meant I fucked you, wouldn’t you?” 
He had chuckled as you could only seem to nod. Clinging to him. Any kind of words from your lips caught between gasps and moans. You were so overwhelmed. The air was too hot. Everything felt too much but too little at the same time. And it was all because of him. The Ghoul who seemed all too good at taking you apart piece by piece. The mess you were was his fault, and he knew it—reveled in it.
 You could never seem to get enough of him, and he knew it too. He could give you everything or nothing, and you’d still thank him for each little bit of it. He was the same. Even if he would never admit it. He always needed more of you. Both of you were addicted to the other. Needed to feel him just like he needed to feel you. Like a chem neither of you could shake. Didn’t want to shake. 
Cooper’s thrusts had begun to grow sloppy now. His breathing more ragged. Hands squeezing your hips so tightly you were sure to bruise by morning. Your head was swimming. Drowning in the pleasure and losing it in the feeling of him. Mind too far gone to think of anything else. A mere mess of moans and gasps, as tears streamed down your cheeks. So close to unraveling at the seams for him. All just for him. 
When he reached his end he didn’t give you any kind of warning save for a low moaned fuck. Making sure to thrust into you deeply. As far as he could go. His cum filling you to the brim as he did. It was only then when his fingers found your clit again. Rubbing the nub in harsh brutal circles that finally sent you crashing over as well. Ripping your orgasm from your body like he was owed nothing less. 
“There you are, take all of me.” He groaned out as you squeezed and clenched around him. Breathless. Eyes watching how you came undone. Making sure to take in every bit of you that he could as you lost it beneath him. “Come for me darlin’.” 
Your nerves felt on edge as the pleasure wrecked through your system. Body shaking while you could only seem to cling to him tighter. Hands fisted into his shirt and your legs squeezing around his hips, trapping his form to yours all while riding out your orgasm. 
It wouldn’t be until the high began to dwindle where your mind would begin to clear again. A gentle throb at your core. Your body relaxed in his arms, limbs growing heavy, and breath beginning to return. The night's air starting to feel cool against your heated skin. 
He hadn’t pulled out yet. Just stayed inside with the mess he made, as you both came down from your pleasure. Your oversensitive walls still clinging to his softening cock despite how completely wrecked you felt. Eventually you had almost felt sticky laying there—covered in your own sweat and grim. You tried to move away. Trying to free yourself from his grasp, but the hand he still had on your hip stopped you. Squeezing gently. 
“Cooper-” You had begun to question him, eyes fluttering open and looking to Ghoul who still hovered above, but found yourself unable to finish when you finally met his gaze. Breath and words caught in your throat all over again. 
Intense. Soft. There was a strange feeling that swarmed there in his eyes. Something you weren’t quite used to seeing from him. Something you just couldn’t place. It surprised you when he leaned in. Made your heart flutter—stomach flip—as his lips found yours. 
The Ghoul rarely kissed you, and when he did it was rough. All teeth and bite, just like everything else about him, but this kiss wasn’t anything like that. There was an odd softness to it. So gentle, and unlike anything you had ever shared with him before, but it was good all the same. Left your heart feeling like it was going to fall out of your chest right then and there.  
 It had all been fleeting though. That fluttering feeling. That sweet kiss. Lips pressed to yours only for a moment before they were gone again. Like it had never happened in the first place. Just another piece of memories from him to add to your imagination. Never to be addressed. 
There wasn’t a word spoken between you as he finally pulled out from your sensitive walls. The touch of his body—his hands—leaving you, as he moved to settle at your side again. He didn’t look your way, but you couldn’t help lull your head over to gaze at him. Still stuck in that dreamlike feeling. Watching. Quiet as he leaned over the bedside to rummage around in his bag. Pulling out the vials you had seen him take so many times by now. 
You still hadn’t a clue to what they were really. Knew it kept him from going feral, but beyond that you knew nothing. Which is how he liked things typically. He never told you too much. That’s just what it was always like between you two. You hadn’t even known his name till quite recently. 
It was during one of the last few times he had visited, if you recalled. Between moans and bated breaths. Pleasure so close to reaching its peak when he first told it. Cooper. You still remember how desperate he sounded. Caught off guard by the unfamiliar tone from the Ghoul you were beginning to know so well.  Name’s Cooper darlin’. And you’d never forget the way he practically crumbled to pieces as you said the name back. Soul exposed to you in ways you never thought possible with him. 
Honestly, you didn’t even think he had a soul until that moment. 
The Ghoul hadn’t been back for months after that night. For reasons you could only guess at. There was a point where you didn’t think he’d ever be back to seek you out again. But of course he was always full of surprises. Almost half a year passed until you saw him again at your doorstep. Acting as if nothing had happened since last, like he hadn’t been gone far longer then he ever had before. Familiar bite and taunting words greeting you fondly. All back to his normal self—or what was normal of him to you at least. 
“Cooper?” 
He inhales the chem. Doesn’t pay you any mind in the slightest. Which is fine. Doesn’t stop yourself from shifting closer to him. Allowing for one of your hands to trail up his chest. You feel him pausing briefly at your touch, and your eyes meet his as he glances your way. He’s unreadable as he gazes at you, hazel eyes holding yours for a mere second, before they’re focusing back to his life saving vials. 
He doesn’t go to stop you though, so you take the chance to tuck yourself into his side. Head resting on his chest. Your eyes feeling heavy once more as you do. But still you don’t sleep yet. Not when you know how little time you have left with the Ghoul. So instead your fingers draw shapes over him, and play with the button of his shirt he still never bothered to remove. 
“Thought I told you to fuckin’ sleep.” His voice brings you away from your thoughts, as he finishes up with his chem. Sounding almost annoyed, probably was, he’s not one for showing much bouts of affection after all. Doesn’t even really like when you’re clingy either. But somehow that still doesn’t stop his free arm winding itself around your waist. Holding you close.  
“Cooper…” 
“Sleep.” The Ghoul’s voice had been quiet but firm. He had pulled his hat from the bedpost to wear again, tugging it to rest over his closing eyes. “Some of us got shit to do in the morning.” 
You didn’t bother to point out how he had been the one disturbing you up till this moment. There was no point in arguing with him though. He wouldn’t listen—a stubborn bastard through and through. 
Not that you could find a good reason to do so anyway. Especially not with how your eyes kept trying to flutter shut, or how comforting it felt laying there in his arms. Listening to his breathing. His very subtle heartbeat somehow loud to your ears. 
When sleep finally took you it would be peaceful for once. Something about knowing the Ghoul was there made you feel calm. Even though you knew that it should have been the opposite. He was deadly. Could kill you in a second. But somehow that hadn’t bothered you in the slightest. Not anymore, at least. Instead it made you feel at ease.
 Safe.
The sun would be barely rising as you woke to the early light. Gentle rays illuminating your small room in a warm orange glow. You had stretched, yawning, before naturally going to feel for the Ghoul that had invaded your home last night. His spot had been empty, of course, long grown cold now that he didn’t occupy its space. 
He never stayed for long. Any night he spent with you he was always gone before you ever had the chance of waking. It’s just how he was. How things were meant to be between you two. You had understood since the very beginning, all those years ago when first taking him into your bed. 
And yet still your fingers ran over the spot. An ache settling in your heart. You knew there was no reason to be sentimental. There was no reason to miss something that wasn’t truly yours. But there was a part of you that did. A piece of you that wanted more than this—wanted what you couldn’t truly have for yourself. 
The Ghoul, Cooper Howrad. You wanted him. More than just for sex. His heart, his soul. You wanted it all. Every piece of him. Craved it even. More than you ever desired something in your entire life. That thought of being his, and him being yours rattling around in that silly little heart of yours. 
He’d never allow it. 
Sighing, you pulled your hand away from his spot and sat up. Wincing. You had almost forgotten about it. The bite mark he left on your thigh still painful. Carefully you looked it over. He hadn’t taken a chunk out of you. Thankfully. Just left you looking like some sort of chew toy like he usually did. 
It wasn’t worth a stimpak. Not like you’d ever consider using one anyway for such a minor injury. It would be a waste otherwise, and being wasteful out here meant death even on a good day. 
Sometimes you wondered if that was why he marked you up so much. As if he knew you wouldn’t bother to heal them so quickly. You wondered if he enjoyed knowing that your body carried signs of him for days. Bites and bruises like some sort of possessive claim. Every mark from him a reminder of just who exactly had left them there in the first place. 
You doubted it all the same though, he probably just thought it was fun to bite and mark you up. Probably did it to everyone he spent the night with. You were sure there were others. Even if he’s never said so, you weren’t dumb enough to think otherwise, as sad as it made you to think about sometimes. 
Leaving bed, your morning would end up being the same as any other. You’d get yourself ready, tidy up the room, and eat what little food you had. After you’d work the day away. Maybe even head into town for a little bit before heading back home. The simple mundane routine so natural to you now that it went about like clockwork. Doing what you needed to survive before the sun would fall again. The moon taking its place easily in a sky painted by shining stars. 
And as you’d lay in bed once more. You’d look out to the wasteland through those cracks in the boarded window. Wondering if he’d show, eyes searching for any kind of sign of him. Waiting—hoping—for the Ghoul to arrive again. 
But of course, he wouldn’t.
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cherry-leclerc · 4 months
Text
all it takes ☆ mv1
genre: humor, fluff, angst
word count: 1k
cherry here!... i know it’s been a while - and i’m sorry! - but i hope a small drabble makes up for it! hope you guys like it!
Where Max doesn’t believe love exists for him until he finds his way to you. 
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Often, there would be times where Max wondered if there existed the possibility that something was wrong with him. Unlike him, his friends would fall into loving relationships - marriages, even - and he was just sort of…stuck.
At first, he really couldn’t explain it. He wouldn’t really worry, either. Until one day. 
“Max,” he stutters as he gently shakes your hand. You radiate so much happiness and innocence in life that it had him intrigued. 
It was a Friday night and he had agreed for drinks with Daniel and Checo to celebrate…God…he can’t even remember. He had kept to himself, occasionally jumping into the conversation that flowed between the other two RedBull drivers. 
He hadn’t noticed you; the Australian had. 
“Poor girl. She’s just trying to get a glass of water.”
Angling his head to look back towards the bar, he sees you. The way you keep raising your hand as if you were back in elementary school, waiting to be called on. To be noticed. The way your dress keeps rising up in the process. His breath hitches. 
“She’s fine.”
“Oh. You’re hitting on her!”
“That’s a first,” Checo teases as he takes a sip of whiskey. Max blushes.
“I-I’m not! All I said is that she’ll be fine - she’ll get her drink eventually.”
“It could happen a lot faster if you go over and help her out. C’mon.”
It took a bit of convincing, but reluctantly, he agreed. The Dutch tried to hide his nervousness with a smile. As he got closer, he made sure to wipe his sweaty palms against his jeans. 
“Hi.”
The moment you look up at him. He knew he messed up. 
“Listen, man, I’m not looking for a one night stand, so…shoo.”
Suddenly, he’s reminded of why he never bothers to try. Swiftly, you go back to ignoring him as you pick up on your mission. He narrows his eyes, clearing his throat before slamming his hand down against the shiny wood. 
“Can I get a glass of water, please?”
The bartender nods as he fills one up and slides it to the blue eyed boy before turning back to face greedy customers. Without a single smile, Max just hands it to you before waking off. You frown, bringing up the glass against your lips. 
“So much sexual tension. I could tell from all the way here.” Max flips Daniel off.
“Sexual tension my ass. She was a snarky little-”
“Hi.”
-
“Whoopsie! My bad!” Feverishly, you bend down to pick up Crofty’s microphone as you hurry to hand it back before continuing your run towards the podium. Moments like these would always feel surreal and you can’t help but feel fortunate to be a part of all this. “Excuse me, excuse me, excuse m-”
“Can’t you see she’s trying to get through?”
As soon as you make eye contact with the man who makes your world flip upside down, a smile slips onto your lips. Crushing him into a tight hug, you bury your face into his race suit. 
“You did it! You did it! Oh my God-”
“I’m used to it by now.”
You narrow your eyes at him as you lightly slap his chest. “Don’t do that, Emilian.” Heat rushes up to the Dutch’s cheeks as he looks around to see if anyone overheard. And there’s just no way the attention wouldn’t be on him. A Championship is all it takes.
“Oke, oke, that’s enough.” He lowers himself to whisper into your ear. “Do I get a prize or something like that?” 
“We’ll see.”
-
“All it took was two years.” Daniel leans back against his chair as he stares back at you and Max with wide eyes. “Two nasty years and suddenly there’s no more stone cold heart.” Making sure to grab your hands across the table, he rubs the diamond in deep thought before looking back at you. “How did you do it?”
“Pussy. That’s how.”A sharp gasp escapes past Kika’s lips as she punches Pierre’s arm. The Frenchman hisses in pain as he scoots away.
And up to this day, it still remains a mystery. As some cruel joke, your fiancé would joke and say that it was some sort of black magic. The joke later had to be retired due to Yuki getting goosebumps after a night of research.
Not funny, you would point out as you console the Japanese boy who sits next to his bright laptop.
It’s not my fault he believes it!
He believes everything, you know that, Emilian!
Stop it with that.
Brushing his long fingers against the nape of your neck, he smiles probably the truest version he was ever capable of showing.
“Her heart is pretty easy to love.”
-
“Pink or blue?” Tossing over to face you and your wedding sketches - that honestly looked like a plot of how to get away with murder - he groans. This isn’t a baby shower, love. Kicking him underneath the covers, you cover your eyes as the stress finally gets to you. “It’s a summer wedding! It would be nice! A pastel perhaps or maybe neon - ew no.” 
He’s about to laugh until he notices droplets sliding down your arms. Almost immediately, he sits up with urgency as he brushes your hair softly. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. Blue. Let’s do blue.” No. It’s stupid. And ugly. He winces as he kisses your shoulder. “It’s not!”
“Yes it is!” Bloodshot orbs stare back at him as you breathe heavily. “Daniel said it, Lando said it, God - even Pierre! Since when does he have better taste than us?” 
“Pierre has the mind of a newborn, how would he know?” As soon as you crack a smile, he eases up. “If you don’t like either, then we could try coming up with something new. How about green?” Your smile drops as you wail against his arms.
“That’s even worse! You’re lucky I love you.”
-
“All it took was a fight for you both to call off the wedding?”
Staring blankly at the wall, Max shrugged. Everything almost seemed to serve no purpose if you weren’t a part of his daily life. He had gotten so used to having you around and bouncing off the walls like a kid who had too much sweets. Where had it all gone wrong? He doesn’t even know.
“Her heart is pretty good at holding a grudge.”
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nervoushottee · 24 days
Text
With Want | Paul Atreides x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Paul Atreides always had dreams. But from the very beginning, there was an invisible string pulling him to you.
Warnings: (MDNI 18+) Reader's secret name is Nuri, Set in Dune Part 2 , fingering, soulmate/destined pairing, shitty understanding of the Dune universe (only watched the first Dune move and only half of Dune part 2 whoopsie so I'm probably butchering some of the lore or whatever. Its fanfiction babes, I'm not writing this for accuracy),
Note: Hey hottees!! Y'all I'm not even finish watching Dune 2 and I started writing this. Timothee was doing something to me in this movieeee. Hope y'all enjoy!
*not edited at all babes*
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Paul Atreides had dreams. Both enchanting and horrifying dreams that would eat away at his mind and soul. And from the very beginning, he had always felt this small pull of a feeling. 
It was weirder than his dreams because even when he woke, he still felt it. Like it was a small tether, a light string in his heart and soul that hummed so softly. A light that was so dim that you would have to squint to see. 
After everything that happened with his father and being forced out of his home. The Fremen people found him and his mother. And that feeling grew stronger. He thought it was about the sayings of what his mother, the Bene Gesserit, would tell him but it felt more than that. 
It was odd, he could never see what it was in his dreams, or hear whispers of it like a name. But it was always that same enchanting feeling. So when Paul followed the Fremens, it continued to grow. By the time they walked deeper into the caves, it went from a strong pull to an overwhelming presence. 
And that’s when he saw you. 
“Who is she?” Paul asks Chani. The young woman already knew who Paul was asking for before she turned her head. A small smile engulfs on her face. “Nuri.”
Nuri.
Paul repeats your name to understand the feeling on his tongue. He hadn’t seen you before. Or maybe he did, he wasn’t too sure. The Fremen people covered their faces from the desert and a lot from what he was learning.
‘She moves like the wind.’ Paul says to himself as he watches you glide through the crowded room. Paul’s eyes meet yours briefly. Yours blue from your sclera to your irises. You stop moving through the crowd to stare at him. 
That feeling buzzed around him, stronger than ever within Paul as his eyes never leaving  yours. Your lips slowly turn up into a smile. Your eyes move towards Chani who still stands next to him, nodding in acknowledgement. Chani repeats the same gesture with a smile on her face, your gaze lingers back on Paul before a group of people walk in front of Paul’s view of you. By the time the people separate. You were gone. And the feeling suddenly fades from a sharp intensity to a dull buzz. 
“You should be careful around her Outworlder.” Chani says to him in a low tone as the common area starts to get a bit busy with people. The two of them sit down on a blanket as other where for food. 
“Was she with the group when you found me and my mother?” Paul asks, dodging the statement his acquaintance gave him. 
Chani shakes her head, chewing her food before speaking, “No. She doesn’t come with us all the time.”That intrigued Paul. He turns himself fully towards Chani, his bowl of food mixed with spice long forgotten . “So is she not a fighter?” 
“She is.” Chani says between chews, ”But she also walks with the Sayyadina.”
The Sayyadina. The Fremen’s Reverend Mother. 
“From what I’ve been told, her family was killed just after she was born. Stilgar took it upon himself to look after her. As she grew, the Sayyadina felt something within her. So Stilgar gave them the authority to let her walk with them. She is truly a great fighter, so when we need good fighters she will come with us when necessary. If not, she stays.” Chani continues. 
“A fighter and one that walks with the Sayyadina? Is that possible?” Paul questions. 
“To a nonbeliever? No. But to those who do? Yes. Stilgar believes in the old ways and in the faith. The Lisan al Gaib.” She says to him in a taunting tone which causes Paul to avert his eyes. The moment they came in, some shouted hatred towards him and his mother but others screamed in rejoice, calling him The Lisan al Gaib.
“Our people follow behind him, he is a good leader and his judgment is almost always right and trustworthy.” Chani finishes. 
Paul sits with the information he tells her, his hands slowly dipping in his bowl to start eating the food that was cold to touch but warm against his tongue. The heat of the spice warms his insides as it goes down his throat. “And what about you? What do you believe?”
”I don’t believe that you’re the Lisan al Gaib, that's for sure.” She chuckles. Paul feels his cheeks flush in embarrassment but urges her to continue. “I believe in our people. And she is a part of our people. And if she plays some part in whatever faith stories then so be it. But she has never faltered in training. She has never failed in the dessert and she is a good friend. She believes in our people as much as I do.”
After the words Chani said, Paul felt that she was over talking about you, more hungry and interested in the spice beneath her fingers. So Paul didn’t ask anymore. He ate his food in silence but his mind was racing with the thoughts of you. 
—— —— —— ——
The day had turned into night. Stilgar showed him and his mother the small room for them to sleep in for the time being until their fate was decided. A lot of them didn’t trust him and his mother, and for that Paul understood. 
His dreams woke him in the late night. Lifting his head from the makeshift pillow, he looks over to his mother who is still sound asleep. Her hand was placed on her lower stomach. 
‘Rest easy sister, I will be back.’ He says in his head before getting up and quietly leaving the room.
The caves are quiet at night. Besides from the guards that linger within the open spaces to protect those who rest. Paul doesn’t think it’s necessary but he avoids walking around where they are. Just in case to not stir any trouble. The people were calm at the moment since their fates were going to be decided soon enough. 
He walks to the small body of water his mother had told him about. The scared waters of the Fremens. The waters they would never touch. He sat there for a while. Enjoying the stilllness in the air and the calm look of the water. It reminded him of home. “I miss you father. I will take care of mother and sister.” He says to himself quietly. 
He wants to cry but reminds himself to save his water. “Don’t waste your tears on the dead” from what Stilgar told his mother. 
Paul sat still for a moment longer before he felt that pull again. That invisible string strong and tight as it pulls him to his feet. He absentmindedly walks into a dimly let hallway, his pulse quickening against his neck. His heat beating erratically against his chest as he turns the corner to see you. “You’re Nuri.” Paul states.
“You shouldn’t be out at night Paul Atriedes.” You say to him, your back towards him but he can hear the teasing smile within your words.
“I couldn’t sleep.” Paul explains to you simply, “And I made sure to walk where the guards can not see me.” The feeling nearly suffocates him as he walks toward you. 
“Ah.” You turn towards him, you’re dressed in almost the same comfortable linens as him. His a tan brown color and yours an off white. “You and your dreams.”
How did you know about that? He questions in his head, unconsciously taking another step towards you. You both now at arms length.
“I see you in my dreams.” Paul lies. 
“Do you?” You ask back, your tone sounds as if you know he’s lying. 
“No but I can feel you. In my dreams and out. And I don’t know what it is or what it means.” He explains. 
You hum in satisfaction as you slowly walk around him. Like a beast or a predator trapping its prey. “And what do you feel now?” 
He feels like his body is vibrating, His skin tingling and his veins jumping. His fingers buzzing as if he wants to reach out and touch you. He does what to touch you, he wants to feel your skin on his. “What do you feel?” Paul asks the question back to you.
You stop walking to stand behind him. The hairs on his neck stick out as he feels your body heat near him. Your lips slowly grazing his ear making his eyes flutter close. 
What the hell is happening to him?
“I feel like the spice on my tongue. I feel like the sand beneath my feet. I feel like the beauty you see in your dreams. I can feel you.” You whisper against him. 
Paul turns around to you, your bodies closer than ever. His lips inches towards yours as his flickers between your eyes and your lips. 
“You speak in tongues.” Paul whispers to you desperately.
“Shall I tell you in a way you understand?” You whisper against his lips. 
“Yes please.” he begs softly. 
And you don’t hesitate to put your lips on his. Paul moving quickly as his hands clasp softly against your cheeks. Moaning in the delight as he feels your hands glide against his chest, gripping his shirt. 
He feels you everywhere, but it isn’t overwhelming anymore. Now that he’s holding you and tasting you, your tongue glides against his. He feels a wave of warmth wash over him as his body and soul settle into the feeling of you. 
So warm and inviting. So enticing and serene. 
You push him towards a dark hidden spot in the hallway. Your bodies are engulfed in darkness but when you break apart for air, you can see him all the same. Paul moves you toward the wall, his body trapping you in as he kisses your neck. 
“I’ve dreamt of you, Paul Atreides. I’ve seen you in my dreams, felt you lingering in my mind, heart and soul.” You say to him breathly. Moaning quietly as you feel his tongue glide against your neck. Your guide his hand to touch your breast, causing Paul to move away from your neck and look into your eyes. 
‘So beautiful.’ Paul thought. He brings his other hand on your cheek and kisses you hungrily. Squeezing your breast, feeling the weight of it in the palm of his hand.His hand glides to let your nipple slip in between his fingers as he squeezes.“I want to dream of you. I want to see you in my dreams, want to hear your voice call my name.” he mutters to you in between kisses.
When you break away from his kiss, Paul starts to ask what’s wrong until he feels your hand on his and glides it up to your lips. You kiss his fingers individually as he stares at you in adoration and desire. You slowly slip his middle and ring finger into your mouth causing Paul to groan. His hips shifting upwards against you as he feels the wetness of your warm tongue glide against his fingers. He watches as you pull his fingers out of your mouth, his digits glistening wet. Your hands glide his now wet ones down and underneath your linen pants.
“Touch me and you will see me.” 
He lets his hand glide against you as is greeted by your wetness, causing you both to moan out in pleasure. You are sinking deeper into the wall and Paul sinking deeper into you. His fingers continue to glide there experimentally as you pull him back for a kiss. “Help me see.” Paul mutters desperately against you
Your hands reach down in your lines to move his hand into the position you need for him to make you feel good. You mimic a small circular rotation with your fingers on the back of his hand that was still against you. Once Paul understands, he begins to move his fingers in the motion you instructed, making you moan against his lips. 
He pulls away to watch you. You looked more ethereal than any other being or spirit that was believed in all of Arrakis. Your head back against the mountain wall, your lips slightly open as you moan. Your hips moving against his fingers as if you’re chasing for pressure. Paul dips his head in the corner of your neck and kisses it feverishly as he applies more pressure in his movements. Causing you to hold on to shoulder and call out his name. Oh how he wanted you to say his name again.
Feeling a little confident he glides his fingers down, but keeps his them pressed against your swollen bud. He pushes his middle finger inside of you causing you to gasp. You hold onto his shoulder gripping his shirt as you breathe heavily. You drag his head from your neck to kiss him. With his finger going in and out of you at an agonizing slow pace, you kiss him sloppily. But Paul doesn’t seem to mind, he enjoys it. Humming against you with a smile. 
When you feel his ring finger follow in for a second is when you lose it. “Paul!” you say loudly. 
His tongue mingles with yours as he silences your cries. With the slow circling of his thumb against your clit and the way he pushes his fingers into you makes you clench against him. “Fuck.” he moans. 
You whine as you feel your orgasm growing inside of you. The feeling you both shared with one another makes you feel even more on edge as you grip Paul in anyway you can. You rapidly as you feel yourself getting close. “Pau-Paul -” you begin to tell him as such but the building pleasure doesn’t get you far. Paul places his other hand against your cheek, tilting your head to look up at him. His eyes hooded and his cheeks flushed. You feel his thumb brush against your bottom lip. 
“Let me see you.” 
His words are the final push that sends you over the edge. Paul kissing you to silence your cries, you mewling against his lips as his fingers never stop their learned rhythm. You shiver against his fingers, your body tingly and warm. He kisses your face from your cheeks, to your eyelids and everywhere in between as he waits for you to come down from your high. He whispers your name, making you flutter your eyes open to see Paul stare at you with want. 
“Show me again.”
917 notes · View notes
privitivium · 2 months
Note
Big buff bossy gangster just bumping into Subtop M reader one day and suddenly becoming obsessed with them to the point where M reader has no choice but to submit to his advances cause if not well he's dead. Subtop M reader has to admit tho that he loves fucking him especially in risky places cause seeing him trying to keep his voice down satisfies Subtop M reader especially with his tiddies bouncing with each thrust
-⚰️
i absolutely adore your writings :)) and no need to rush alright? i'm willing to wait haha
thank you dear coffin, i adore you......
yes…..….. this is refreshing. 💥💥🌹these are ideas. thoughts…… i might post more of this guy as an actual full-fledged fic where he actually stalks you as i enjoy big breast men 💥💥💥🌹🌹🌹must… must write more to be more… detailed…. uaghugh
amab bossy gangster x amab m reader
pt 2 rambles :3 cw;; dubcon, exhibition, stalker - yandere tendences?
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love at first sight… for him at least. a towering muscly dude with visible scars here and there along his “handsome” face with layered platinum blond hair doing his rounds with a couple of lackeys… unintentionally not looking where he was goingㅡ
ㅡ“oh, whoopsie.. you alright, man?” cautious not to put your hands on the other person who accidentally stepped on your foot and took a slight tumble; swallowing thickly, comedically as the man raises to his full height without a word - towering over you with his pecs center to your eyes, some big platinum blond muscleheadㅡ“haha… y-ou … you alright?” you offer your hand, even if he was already standing and most certainly did not need your help -
“fine.” he waves you off, leaving wordlessly but not before giving you a nasty glower. uagh, jeez.. what's that guy's problem? not like you were looking to instigate or something but still… you obviously did not mean to trip him! didnt he see how sympathetic you were just then? some people…
unbeknownst to you, he was fuming. that was how your first official meeting went?! argh!! his companions, his lackeys noting his upset and commenting on the matter ; “what's the matter? you wanna go back n’ pummel that guy, boss?” 
“no, no…” the hulking mass of muscle shakes his head - thin layers of platinum blond hair, waving his hand dismissively while seeming to be in thought - stalling down the walkway and making a swift turn down a narrow alleyway, knuckleheads following close behind. “that's… my lover. my fated one to be, you idiots. how can you not see that?” 
ㅡhe’s delusional, his lackeys realize. but feed into it anyway. in the lair, a rundown two story house where he was answering questions and fiddling with several pictures taken of you just hours later. a quick question of “how can ya’ tell that's yer fated one to be??!” an excited pawn queried. the big boss man going off on an equally excited tangent - a happy explanation about how he doesn't even know. all he knows is that he took one look at your tripping sorry ass and immediately wanted to get down on his knees, uncaring if it was in the middle of a busy sidewalk..
or it could… be the something like, muscly bossy gangster runs into you a few times instead,,, neither of you forgetting one another because for you, it's a big ass intimidating guy who glares at you and nearly makes you piss your pants how can you not forgetㅡand for him - he's literally orchestrating his schedule around yours just to be bumping into you like this. tapping your phone, keeping you tracked through a device or having several of his companions follow you around…
and then, him. finally showing up to your fucking home on a friday night - 11 pm. forcing his way into your apartment and ignoring how terrified you looked and showing you all the pictures he took of you. like aren't you the cutest ? and you… staring at him, teary eyed and sniffling because you obviously cant fight back against this fucking behemoth who you accidentally tripped… this is your day of reckoning isn’t it…. dead if you do, dead if you don't, huh. well. eyeing his fat chest, looking over his stocky build.. this guy's in love with you that badly?! then.. he could never hurt you right…? haha… a spineless creature such as you submitting that easily, you can't help yourself and you cant blame yourself!!!
ㅡ"shh-sh..” he hisses softly, grunting as he fluidly jerks at your hardened prick over your jeans - your back pressed against a wall in a maze of alleyways. of course, its the go-to.. who are you to deny this bossy ass gangster when he wants to be fucked??? asking you so nicely… ( literally pulling you from the eyes of the public wordlessly. who was gonna say anything anyway??? they know of him and his status….) whimpering softly - music to his ears. wishing he could be recording this audio for his own needy purposes of jerking off to your shrine he made… plunging himself on your pre-cum and saliva lathered cock… it was mesmerizing. pulling up his shirt to reveal his abdomen - no complaint from the hulking bossy bitch as you fondle his chest. before he was switching positions and pressing his front into the wall and allowing you to hump into him at a lazy languid pace while groping at his meaty body underneath his tight-fitted shirt. he… has to remind you of who's the one in charge… “keep it down..” he reminds breathlessly, a grin spreading across his face as he pushes his hips back into you ㅡ deliberately clenching his gummy walls around yr meaty, aching dick - 
ㅡ“what's this?” 
“uhh… our conversation?” you squint, glancing between the hulking mass pining you and his hand holding his tiny phone - his hand was just … huge. displaying your messages, where he was the last one to send a message?
he inhales sharply at your obliviousness, huffing in obvious indignation - pushing you harder against the wall without intent. “you left me on seen.” he stresses the last word. did you?? he was nearly snarling like an animal with rabies. “why??” god, this guy is like an insecure girlfriend but 10 times worse. 
“... i got uh.. distractedㅡ” you squirm, avoiding eye contactㅡ
"distracted with what?” he intrudes, leaning inward - you could faintly smell a hint of mint and.. what is thatㅡcinnamon? what's this guy's problem, eating sweets and harrassing you?! and just a quick glance down would tell you everything you need to know. how awkward… do you even tell him or does he know that he's bulging? it throws you off… acting so moody but bricked up??? that's laughable and you can't help yourself. b-but you can't exactly laugh in good humor, hypnotized by the way his squishy pecs bounce up and down with his hole clamping on your cock ㅡ telling you in-between ragged breaths never to ignore him - yes, yes honey never in my life i will do such a thing, mhm..
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genderlessdude92 · 7 days
Text
PRECIOUS
SMALL LIL’ ANGST—>FLUFF FIC
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PAIRINGS: Alastor x Reader
SUMMARY: You and Alastor get into a fight because you’re just worried he got hurt after a fight with Vox. He snaps at you and…well, you isolate yourself. whoopsies!
WARNINGS: Emotional abuse, Toxic relationship dynamics (but they both love each other dw), Intense emotional distress, Language, Potential Triggers, Donestic conflict. (MAJOR FLUFF AT THE END THOUGH!!! ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP!!!) They were a couple alive too if you don’t mind idk i suck at writing- USAGE OF Y/N I ALMOST FORGOT AHHH- Lmk if i missed anything :3
NOTICE: please don't steal/copy/translate my work. But thanks for liking it, though!! ^^
WORDS: 1.7k
Enjoy!!~
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“Alastor, are you serious?!” You yelled as Alastor started to walk away from you, mid conversation.
Alastor had just gotten into a big fight with Vox, luckily survived, though. The frustrating part is, he won’t even let you heal him. Or know what the battle was even about?!
Which made you really, really paranoid.
“Alastor, don’t walk away from me, that’s rude.” You caught up with him and began to match his pace and he walked to the halls of the hotel to lucifer knows where. “We need to talk about this.” You say firmly. “I’m going to find out one way or another.” You add, raising your voice slightly.
Alastor stopped walking and turned around to face you. He was looking down at you, which always made you feel so small. Even if he wasn’t actually looking at you, you could still feel it.
“Well, then.” His voice was calm, but a hint of annoyance was there. “Aren’t you just invested in my little public hiccup.”He crossed his arms, waiting for your response.
“Yes I am. And I think we should talk about it, instead of you getting defensive.” You looked him dead in the eye and kept talking. “And why you didn’t tell me.” Your voice went quieter again.
Alastor hid a chuckle, “I thought you would care more about me surviving, than knowing how many lives I took today.” He raised his eyebrow, mocking you. “Or maybe, I don’t want to share this kind of information with someone who will judge me for it.” He was now fully annoyed by you.
You stepped closer to him, trying to keep him from leaving again. “Alastor, please stop. I’m just trying to help. I don’t…” You trailed off nervously. “I don’t want us fighting.”
Alastor smirked at you, “Oh, don’t worry love. We aren’t fighting. Yet.” His tone was harsh and he leaned down to look you in the eyes. “But I will if you continue to harass me about this.”
You felt yourself start to panic, but tried your best to hide it. “I’m sorry Alastor, I just…” You couldn’t finish your sentence, as he interrupted you.
“No. Don’t ‘just’ anything. You know I hate that word.” He said with a cold smile. “Now leave me alone before I get upset with you.”
“…You know,” You began, standing in your place as Alastor walked away, “You should at least act like you care about my opinion, maybe act like a husband, as well.” You snapped back, but in a more calm, collected tone. (minus the shakiness in your voice.)
“That’s rich coming from you.” Alastor snapped back, turning around to face you again. “What did I ever do to deserve such a self-righteous wife?” He raised his voice a bit, but not enough for others to hear. “How dare you assume things about me without even asking. How dare you come here and make demands of me. How dare you try to control me.” He continued yelling, walking towards you. “You have no right to tell me what to do! I don’t have to explain myself to you!”
“I’m not trying to control you. I’m just saying, maybe you could at least consider what I have to say sometimes…” You tried to say bravely, but failed at the end. You felt so small. So insignificant.
You felt like nothing.
Alastor was now right in front of you, towering above you. His height and stature were intimidating, but his voice was worse. It was rough and demanding, making you feel like you weren’t worth anything. “You are nothing, nothing compared to me.” He sneered. “I don’t give a damn about what you think. What you say. What you do. You’re just a pathetic little sinner who has no idea what real power feels like. You’re not worthy of my time. You’re not worthy of my attention. You’re not worthy of my love.” He spat out the last word like it tasted sour in his mouth.
His words were cutting through your heart, and you couldn’t take it anymore.
You dashed away to the nearest staircase, needing to get to your office. Your only safe space.
***
It has been about a week now since the fight you and Alastor had.
It had also been a week since you came out of your office.
You didn’t really leave your office because, one, it had a fridge of food and other things. Two, you had a makeshift bed with the couch. And three, why would you even go out there?
Only problem is, you’ve cried everyday, and that made you feel like complete imp-shit.
You really wanted to see Alastor, but you knew it wouldn’t end well.
You also didn’t want to be around anyone else, either.
***
Alastor was a gentleman to all women who deserved so.
An example he would give you is Rosie. He’s a gentleman to her because she’s nice to him and has manners. She deserves it.
But, if he was near Velvette, he would call her cruel names and shred all her ‘designer masterpieces’.
But, now he was confused.
What happened with Y/N?
He had never fought like that with her before no, usually she would be next to him in bed right now.
He was starting to miss her.
…he needed to give her an apology.
But he knew he wasn’t good with words.
So, he brainstormed.
“I could probably give her a heart…” He thought, stepping out of bed and pondering for a moment, “…no, no….maybe…some flowers?…” he looked over to his bayou. “…Allergies.”
He slumped onto his armchair and looked around his room for any ideas at all.
“…maybe some candy? No.” He thought, “She doesn’t eat much sweets.”
He sat there for a while longer, thinking.
Then it hit him.
***
You heard footsteps outside your door, and immediately froze. You looked around your room for any escape route, and found none. You decided to sit back down on your couch, and began to wait for whoever was there to leave.
The footsteps stopped outside your door, and a knock sounded out. “Y/N, open the door.” Alastor’s voice was stern and commanding. “I know you’re in there.” He added.
You opened the door slowly, and peeked out to see who it was.
“Hello, darling.” Alastor said with a warm smile. “Can I come in?”
You just stared at him, saying nothing
‘fuck’, he thought, ‘i caused this.”
“Y/N, I just want to apologize.” He finally said, breaking the silence. “I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I was wrong.”
“…you don’t mean that.” You replied, still not moving.
“I do mean it, darling. Please jsut…let me in.” Alastor said sincerely, taking a step forward.
You hesitated for a moment, then moved aside to let him in. He closed the door behind him and stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, unsure of what to do or say next.
Then, your eyes wandered to the large picture album he was holding to his side.
“Alastor…what’s that?” You asked, taking a step back cautiously.
“…it’s our picture album.” He looked at you, remaining calm. “…from…when we were alive. You know, with all those crappy photos.” He smiled softly.
You looked up at him, “…I’m scared.”
Alastor knew exactly why, as well.
He sighed, “I promise…I will keep myself contained if i ever, ever lash out like that… ever again.” He claimed, tears building up in his eyes.
“What i said back there was not true at all. You are everything to me, you are worth so much, and most of all, I love you.” He dropped the book to the floor and held out his arms to hug you.
You didn’t move, “…I don’t want to be here…” You said, letting a tear fall.
He nodded, “That’s okay, dear, let’s go to our room, okay?” He reassured, picking the book back up and holding you tight to his waist as the shadows consumed you both, talking you to his room.
***
You and Alastor missed this.
Limbs tangled together in bed, holding each other close, breathing in each other’s scents, you wish you had this sooner.
Alastor flipped a page of the album, “Oh look,” He noticed, pointing his claws to the first picture in the album, “It’s our cat, oh, what was his name again?” He asked, looking at you.
You were still crying.
He took a deep breath, “Y/n,” he exhaled, “It’s okay, dear…please don’t think about it.”
You looked at him, “w-what?” you said, wiping your cheek.
He ran a claw through your hair, “Nothing.” He said, smiling softly.
You put your head on his shoulder, “Okay,” you mumbled into his chest, closing your eyes and enjoying his scent.
He stroked your hair, “Do you remember our wedding day?” He asked.
You shook your head, “…no, I don’t…it was too long ago…” you said, sniffling.
He kissed the top of your head, “That’s alright, sweetheart, we have plenty of time to talk about it.” He assured you, pulling you closer to him.
You closed your eyes, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. You felt safe in his arms. Safe and loved.
Alastor flipped the pages until he found the wedding pictures, “Oh, here we are. Look, see how my mother walked you through the aisle?” He rubbed the picture with his thumb, rethinking back the memory.
“…yeah…I remember now…” You snuggled closer into him, trying to control your ragged breathing.
“…just breathe daring.” He reminded you, “Look here, you see how much you’ve changed?” He laughed softly, flipping another page, “See here? Here you are at our anniversary dinner, you wore that beautiful dress that made your legs look amazing.” He blushed lightly, “I remember you told me I was the only one allowed to see it.”
You giggled, “…that was a joke, silly.” You said, opening your eyes and smiling up at him.
“Ah, yes, I know.” He smiled back,
“…You’re so precious to me, y’know that?” He said, leaning down and kissing your forehead.
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NOTES: Idk what i was thinking when i made this fic erm…! Idk I’ve been going thru some shit rn but I’ve gotta impress the community because the notes/likes/comments/reblogs on my posts aren’t doing to good rn!! Oh no!!! (that is a sign from my greedy ass) And i just started a multi-chapter fic so like idk why i’m typing this- support is appreciated. BAI!!![![![11!
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MASTERLIST LINK
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urfavskzlvr · 5 months
Text
whoopsies?
SMUT UNDER THE CUT
MINORS DNI
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Bangchan x GNreader 😻
you really didn't mean to. it was an accident. you didn't mean to find your best friends Onlyfans.
You were just on your couch on Twitter scrolling through. You came across a small clip of a guy teasing if he would take his shirt off. you could see his large bulge through his black sweats. you couldn't see his face but you still found it hot. you watch the video twice and you're turned on. fuck. it wouldn't hurt, would it? you click the link in the caption and it brings you to his onlyfans. $45?! Who does this guy think he is? well, he is really sexy... and you are horny... and you got paid yesterday... what's the worst that can happen?
you put in all the information and hit confirm. it unlocks a whole world of jack-off videos, whimper audios, and a plethora of boyfriend roleplays. holy shit. the fucking jackpot. which one do you choose first? you scroll aimlessly until something catches your eye. "Jack off instructions" goddamnit, it's perfect.
you click the video and it starts. you slip your hand into your pants.
"Hey love." you shut off your phone. what the fuck? it can't be. why did that guy sound like Chan? God no. you're just mistaken. you have to be. you open your phone again and press play again.
"here's a new gift for you. I know sometimes you need a little hel-" You shut it off again. it's him. it sounds exactly like him. his accent, his tone, it has to be him. what are you supposed to do? you just spent $45 on your best friend's Onlyfans.
just ignore it until it goes away, that works. But you are still really horny. no you wouldn't. but you just paid $45, might as well put it to good use. HE'S YOUR BEST FRIEND THAT'S WEIRD. but he's so sexy. what if he finds out? but what if he doesn't? what he doesn't know can't hurt him. fuck it. you open your phone and continue to watch the video.
"I'm only here to help you feel some relief. if you're not already, go ahead and start touching yourself, slowly. you can listen, right?" shit. you feel your face starting to get hot. this is your best friend and you are currently jerking off to his voice, on his Onlyfans.
"you're doing so well. such a pretty look for you. do you want a little more? go ahead, go a little faster." why are you listening? why are you doing this? you feel so gross, but so incredibly good.
"you want to cum? hm? go faster, baby" you let out a small groan as he says baby. you listen and go faster. fuck. it's so good. you feel yourself being embarrassingly close.
"you can hold out for me, can't you, love? or maybe you can't. such a greedy baby." holy shit. your body shakes as you inch closer and closer. "i guess you've been good enough to cum. go ahead. cum for me, baby" your body jolts forward as you finally go over the edge. your legs shake wildly and you feel like your heart is about to jump out of your chest.
"you did so good, baby. look at you. so needy for me." he chuckles. you lay there looking up at the ceiling while trying to catch your breath. you can feel your arousal in your underwear. how the fuck did you just cum that hard? you feel embarrassed and ashamed. you just came the most you have to your best friend's voice. you want him to come and lick it up. WHAT? don't be thinking such things.
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heyyyyyy
sorry if it seems short or unfinished. i hope you liked it either way <3
Pt. 2? 👀👀
reblogs, comments, and ASKS highly appreciated <3 (please leave me asks i love doing them so much)
Okay. love you bye <33
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mari-the-bimbo · 7 months
Note
PLS — DON’T LEAVE US HANGING
I just love your dorm mate Geto series, there will be other parts? Plsplspls
Dorm mate Geto: Just friends pt. 3
A/N: OKAY OKAY FORGIVE ME YA’LL!! At first I just wanted part 2 to marinate a lil you know? Then I forgot to post whoopsie! Also in my defence I was depressed over jjk new chapter leaks 😭 Enjoy! <3
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It’s 8pm in the morning when you woke up and made some breakfast in the quiet dorm kitchen. The sunlight seeps through the window as you munch on some cereal.
“Bit early for a Saturday don’t you think doll?” A honey-laced voice teases from behind.
You turn around to see Geto. The usual mischievous dark coloured eyes which stared at you adoringly. His tall, broad figure towers over you, and his hands in his pockets but you can’t focus, all you could think about yesterdays confessions and kisses.
“Well good morning to you too” you tease back before placing your bowl in the sink about to walk away. He chuckles at your quick wit, he can’t help but swoon over you.
Until his large hand stops you by simply grabbing your mid section.
“Where you do think you’re going doll? I said we’re going to talk later remember?” He says like a demand but his tone is still so soft, causing butterflies in your stomach. “B-but Gojo is still here-“ you say, suddenly losing the last drop of the confident facade you had left.
“He’s still asleep after his late night. It’s just you and me doll” he reasons, unwilling to let you slip away out of his arms again. He sits at the dining table, one hand tugs on your hand, and the other pats his thigh, urging you to sit on his lap.
“Geto..”
“don’t be shy with me. You know I’m all yours y/n” he rasps as he stares into your eyes, making you grow hot and bothered, nevertheless you comply. You sit on his lap and he lets out a relaxing hum as your butt rests on his thighs.
“How you feeling after yesterday?” He asks like a whisper in your ear, rubbing your upper arm to help ease it out of you.
“I feel okay” you say, keeping it brief, even though you knew you could probably write a whole essay about it. But so did Geto.
“I need you to feel more than okay hun” he says so sweetly, making your stomach stir again.
You sigh, knowing Geto knew you too well. “Well I guess I still feel a bit bitter about you with other girls but I understand it’s not your fault because you thought your feelings were one sided.”
He nods empathetically, he’s always been so mature. You watch a strand of his black hair fall out of his hair bun, “those girls will never mean what you mean to me. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if that’s what it takes.”
“It’s not been easy having feelings for you since the day I met you, you know?” He adds, and your mouth slightly opens at his confession. Sure, you’ve liked him for a long time too, but you can’t imagine how painful it must’ve been pining for the same person since the day you met them.
He laughs softly at your reaction, his hand playfully grabbing your chin to close your mouth. “Don’t worry, it was all worth it in the end right? Don’t feel bad” he said as if he read your mind.
Your eyes soften, asking him the same question you asked last night before he kissed you. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” you ask, your frail cold fingers touching his face, you feel him relax against it. “I guess I was scared that you wouldn’t like me back” he admits with a sad smile which felt unusual on the usually confident secure man.
“Well that’s not true. I like you…a lot” you say, causing him to give you the cheesiest handsome smile. “Yeah? I like you a lot too” he says, kissing your fingers, both of you dancing around the word ‘love’.
“Then are you gonna kiss me or what?” You say impatiently with a cute pout, he chuckles at your princess behaviour before pulling you closer by grabbing your cheeks with his one large hand, taking advantage of the size difference, pressing his lips against yours. His lips feverishly move against yours. He pulls away for a second to let you gasp for air before attacking your lips once again.
You’re dizzy when you pull away from the handsome man who cuddled you in his lap, your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders. All you can smell is his musky woody scent and all you can feel is his wet lips on your jaw.
“Y/n?” He murmurs against your skin, “yeah?” You ask breathlessly.
“I love you”
Your eyes widened as you felt your heart beat hundred times faster. You pull away only enough to see his face again, his eyes are genuine as he stares up at you as if you’re an angel.
“I love you too pretty boy” you say, playing with his black ear studs shyly.
He feels happy yet so smug at the same time. “Yeah? What do you love about me the most?” He asks with a smirk.
“Free barista”
He laughs so joyfully at your answer, and he looks so pretty as he does it. Geto genuinely doesn’t mind if that really is the reason you love him, he’s happily make coffee for you for the rest of his life.
“Good, that means you’re all mine”
You suddenly feel shy at his words, choosing to mess with his ear stud again. “You really love me huh?” You ask, with a hopeful smile, anything to hear him say it again.
“Oh doll, you have no idea” he says as he tucks your hair strand behind you ear, kissing your cheeks.
“C’mon now” he says patting your butt, “lemme make my princess some coffee”
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sashaforthewin · 2 years
Text
[Thank you to @avi17 for beta services, any remaining whoopsie-doodles are my own]
Steve Harrington pulled out his pack of cigarettes and placed one between his lips. He dropped the pack back into his pocket and then patted around himself for his lighter.
Fuck. He sighed.
It didn't matter how many gas station lighters he bought and stuck into the pockets of all his clothes, he somehow always ended up losing them immediately.
Talking around his cigarette, he turned to Eddie.
"Help me out here, man. Light me." He aimed the unlit cigarette at his friend.
"Yeah, gimme a sec," Eddie said as he put his acoustic guitar to the side and patted his own pocket. He pulled out a lighter and then reached over and plucked the cigarette from Steve's lips and placed it between his own and proceeded to light it. Then, once lit, he removed it and placed it back between Steve's lips.
Steve just stared, shocked.
What the hell was that? Who lit someone's cigarette that way?
By this point, Eddie had already gone back to messing around on his guitar, didn't seem to notice Steve's reaction at all.
"What was that?"
"You asked me to light your cigarette, I did," Eddie shrugged.
"You could've lit it while it was in my mouth."
"Consider it paying the toll."
Steve laughed at the audacity and got back to digging through Eddie's cassettes as he smoked.
That was the first time. But then it happened again. And again. And eventually it was just the natural way Steve smoked. More than once Steve had realized he did in fact have a lighter, right after Eddie had lit his.
And then once, Steve felt the lighter in his pocket and asked Eddie to light his anyway.
After that, he just stopped trying to carry lighters.
It wasn't until months in, when the habit had well and truly formed, that it happened in front of someone else.
Of course it was Nancy. Why wouldn't it be Nancy?
It was a momentary lapse in judgment. He was running on autopilot. Cigarette goes in mouth, ask Eddie to light him, Eddie takes his toll and puts the cigarette back in Steve's mouth. That's just how Steve's cigarettes get lit.
But then as he was taking his first drag, his eyes happened to catch on Nancy and the look on her face made his blood run cold.
With a barely detectable nod leftward from Nancy, Steve knew his presence was requested for a chat.
He let Eddie know he was helping Nancy get something down from a high shelf and would be right back, and then followed Nancy up to his dad's home office and shut the door quietly.
"What the hell was that!?"
"What, he was just lighting my cigarette," Steve said defensively.
"Are you two dating?"
"What? No!"
"It looked rather intimate."
"I mean, yeah, I guess it is. I dunno, it's just how Eddie lights people's cigarettes."
"He does this to other people?"
"I assume so," Steve shrugged, realizing he had only ever imagined Eddie lighting other people's cigarettes that way after the very first time. After that, he hadn't really circled back to the the thought but now that it was back, Steve found he didn't much like this mental image at all.
Some of what he was thinking must have shown on his face because Nancy gave him a look dripping with kindness and a sprinkling of pity.
"You like him."
"No."
"You like him."
"I don't."
"Steve. You like Eddie."
"...Shit," he cursed, looking off to the top of the bookshelves. Then he looked back at Nancy, seemingly miserable.
"What do I do, Nance?"
She thought about it a moment then shrugged. "Date him, I guess."
"I mean, clearly I'm gay for him, as you just rudely forced me to realize. But I don't even know if he would be willing or interested in dating men. Well, not men, just me."
"I think he is interested. He lights your cigarette in his own mouth."
"Yeah, but that's just paying the toll, Nance! It doesn't mean he likes me! You gotta tell me what to do soon or Eddie will think we are doing something up here. Come on, use that big nerd brain."
Nancy rolled her eyes, but smiled in amusement. "Fine. A simple experiment. Next time he smokes, you do too. See what he does when his lips are already busy. See you this evening, don't be late or we'll miss all the trailers."
And with that she grabbed a pack of printer paper and left the office. He heard her say goodbye to Eddie and then leave.
The rest of the day was spent waiting for Eddie to smoke, and as they say, a watched pot never boils.
Eventually, it was time to head out for the theater. Steve was on edge from trying to act like he was just hanging out with his friend in a normal way instead of obsessively watching him for clues and waiting for him to smoke.
Finally, when Eddie climbed into the passenger seat, he cranked the window a bit and lit his own cigarette. Steve waited a moment while waiting for the car to warm up, then pulled his own out and placed it to his lips.
"Light me?" Steve asked.
"Yep, I got you."
Eddie placed both hands on the edges of Steve's jaw and brought their faces together. Steve's heart nearly burst out of his chest thinking Eddie was going to kiss him, but then he realized Eddie was trying to position their cigarettes tip to tip. Steve snapped out of it and used his lips to help aim, then they both puffed in and out quickly a few times to pass the flame.
He cursed the flammability of thin paper wrappers when his cigarette caught and Eddie released his face. Steve felt fluttery from how unbelievably intimate and sensual that had felt. Not only had Eddie cupped his jaw, fingers bracketing his ears and fingertips in his hair, but it was also very easy to convince yourself someone is looking at your lips instead of your cigarette in such close proximity.
He took a moment to breathe, overwhelmed.
"Steve?"
"Yeah, should be good, just making sure the engine was warmed up." He threw the car in gear and backed out of the drive.
When they arrived, Nancy and Jonathan were waiting out front, huddled for warmth or because they were in love. In a Midwest winter it was hard to tell sometimes.
As soon as Nancy was in view, she and Steve had a nonverbal conversation with their eyes. She questioned, he answered, she looked exasperated, he shrugged.
As soon as they got their seats, Steve threw his coat down next to Eddie and announced he'd grab everyone's snacks if Nancy would help carry. Eddie and Jonathan both offered but Steve and Nancy shot them down and dashed off to chat.
"Wow, really?"
"Yeah! I thought my heart was going to leap out of my throat, I'm a changed man, I'm never going to recover from that. I'm never going to let him smoke alone, either, even if this doesn't mean anything, at least I could relive that moment again and again!"
"I really think he likes you, but if you really want more proof, I'll think of something…"
After the movie, the four stood out back behind the theater, chatting about the film. Nancy watched Steve and Eddie talking excitedly to each other, unintentionally ignoring her and Jonathan. They were quite clearly so intimately comfortable with each other, there was no way they wouldn't be the perfect fit.
And then an idea came to her and she grabbed Jonathan by the shoulder and pulled him down to whisper in his ear.
He glanced nervously over at the two and then back to Nancy, then pulled out his cigarettes which had a lighter stuck down the clear foil, clearly visible, realized and shoved them back into his pocket awkwardly and fumbled to pull a cigarette out with the pack in his pocket.
"Hey Eddie, light me?"
"Sure," Eddie shrugged, tossing his lighter to Jonathan in an underhand throw, barely sparing the man a glance. Steve waited a very conservative five seconds before leaning in to kiss Eddie and Nancy was both pleased and embarrassed that Eddie responded by pressing Steve up against the wall by the dumpster.
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