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cutecatlov3r · 10 months

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oh to be ran through by denki, sero, katsuki, and kirishima…

what would it be like? college au

a/n: bro I haven’t posted in forever ! but maybe I’m back for awhile ? you should check out my c.ai bots :3 dekusquad ver here .

it’ll start off with the five of you chilling in sero’s college dorm. you five all just playing games and chatting. until denki realizes there is literally a girl in the room with the four of them. the reality of the situation, you’ve been their friend for a few years... why the hell hasn’t he thought of this sooner?! he’s seen too much porn to know what could go down.

so when you go to the bathroom he talks to the boys about the situation he’s playing in his head.

“well we could always try to convince her, I mean she’s been our friend for years and I’d be so down to fuck her,” he spoke unashamed.

next thing you know, you’re fully convinced on letting it happen, the boys basically begging you to let them inside of you .

Bakugou obviously going first. he has to be the number one in everything. so when you allow him to fuck you, he’s the one to take off your clothes, being rough. he’ll rip them up, not caring. when he whips out his cock it’s long and thick, slapping against his abdomen as it is released.

“g’na fuck you nice and good, you slut”

and he does, he wastes no time plunging into you deeply. of course you didn’t really need foreplay due to the fact it turned you on to see them all begging for you to fuck them. as he fucks you in a mating press he will pull your hair. it’s a little off because he’s making out with you so sensually and sweet but his cock is ramming into you, only caring for it’s own pleasure.

“fuck… fuck you’re so tight, stop squeezin’ around me like that, dumbass…” he pants, voice a little raspy.

the boys watching, the heat inside them unbearable. just looking at your whiny face as bakugou fucks deep in you makes them so needy and heated.

he keeps going hard, his tip occasionally grazing against your cervix.

in the end, bakugou will gladly cum deep inside you, filling you up. pulling out he’ll watch it seep out, using his fingers to fuck it back into your hole.

Sero is next, looking down at you as you whine due to bakugou’s cum spilling on to your thighs. it was an uncomfortable feeling but you sort of liked it.

“don’t worry sweetheart… i will be nice and slow” he hums, kissing your neck, groping your ass.

he takes off his pants as he’s kissing you, placing you on his lap. his cock was long, not as girthy as bakugou’s cock but it looked a bit longer. he groans as he slips inside your wet and sloppy cunt. he rolls your hips, his cock rubbing against your g-spot as he rolls them.

he leans his back on the ledge of the couch, getting a good view of your sticky pussy moving up and down his cock. he loved the squelching noises it made. it was so erotic… the boys watching also loved it, they fucking needed you.

towards his climax he grabs you close, pressing your chest against his as he pistons his cock inside you, chasing his high.

“s-shit! fuck- ah- im gonna fucking cum… yeah, yeah, right in your slutty pussy”

you were moaning and creaming around his dick. the rutting hitting your g-spot over and over again. you were out of breath and he just kept going, holding you tightly so you couldn’t use your arms to get away from his body.

eventually he came inside you. his cum mixing around with bakugou’s. both of their bodily fluids leaking out of your slutty hole.

Denki happily offers to go next, it was his idea after all. look, he’s a pervert whose down for anything, he doesn’t even want his dick inside your messy cunt that was still leaking of sero and bakugou’s cum, instead he honestly wanted to give you a facial. so when you looked at him with your dazed eyes, he grabbed your chin, nodding his head to the floor.

“come on baby, on your knees for me” he smiled happily with a small chuckle.

you got on to your knees, looking up at denki. he held your cheek as he took out his hardened cock. it slapped against your face… your eyes glued to the pink tip that leaked of precum. he was pretty long, you’ll give him that.

without warning though, he shoved his dick right in between your cute soft lips, letting out a little whine. one hand gripped your hair, the other holding his shirt up so he can see as your tongue glided against him.

“s…so warm…” he moaned, eyes shutting slightly. though he did reach down to squeeze your breast, pinching your hard nipple.

your head bobbed on his cock, his grip on your hair tightening slightly. with your hand you fondled with his balls which caused an audible groan as he thrusted into your mouth more.

spit was rolling down your chin. your eyes fluttering as you looked up at denki who now has his shirt in his mouth. he gripped it with his teeth, his free hand grabbing some more of your hair and he thrusted his hips more.

after hitting the back of your throat, it caused him to go a bit crazy, moving faster, balls slapping against your chin. he was whining and moaning, feeling like he was gonna explode. he pulled out just in time, you stuck out your tongue as he painted your face white.

“that’s it babygirl… all over your face…” he panted, slapping his tip against your tongue.

Kirishima was last, he frowned looking at you, you were so messy.

“let me clean you up” he said softly, taking off his shirt to clean off your cute little face. he brought his shirt down to your cunt, cleaning it off, along with your thighs. there was still sero and bakugou’s cum inside you but he wasn’t gonna worry about cleaning that up. afterwards he sighed happily. he brought you to his lips, placing soft kisses against yours.

“It’s okay… you did so good for us today, y/n. thank you for letting me have the opportunity to please you” he smiled, laying her on the couch gently.

he took the hair out of your face, smiling down at you so sweetly. he started to remove his pants and my god… his cock was huge. it was so fat that it hung low even though he was hard as hell. you were in for it.

“not gonna hurt you, okay? if you need me to stop, I will. i will stop immediately,” he said, softly to which you nodded, propping yourself on your elbows to watch him sink into you. he went slow and steady, one of his hands by your head to balance himself. he was stretching your hole out, you felt so full.

he let out a soft moan as he kept trying to push himself deeper in you.

“g-gonna move now, okay?” he panted, his hips making a bit of movement. his thumb played with your sensitive clit as he made the small fulfilling movements. he rubbed you gently, the rubbing causing you to moan and his cock making you see stars.

a white ring was around his cock, your juices and the other boys around him as he made his small movements.

he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. this thumb rolling around the nub, he knew how to please a woman.

and out of everyone, he made you cum. you squeezed around his dick as you came, causing him to moan. he went down to your chest, sucking your nipples as you felt your bliss. he made sure you came before him, his hips now picking up the pace, your pussy tight around him, your walls clenching in overstimulation.

he went at a moderate pace not to hurt you, pulling out to cum on your stomach, he gave you a sweet kiss, wiping off the cum with his shirt that was on the floor.

“you did so good today, we are so proud of you, y/n”

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 8 days

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a new life is born | s.r. x fem!reader

“congratulations mom and dad, it’s a healthy baby girl.” the doctor confirmed for both of you while the nurses worked to clean your new born. your skin was sweaty, baby hairs stuck to your forehead, legs were shaky from being bent for the past hour. you’ve been in the hospital since last night once your contractions started.

but you were a mom now. you birthed a babygirl and you couldn’t be happier with your life. turning your head to the left with a dazed smile, stood spencer with the widest smile you’ve seen on his face to date. “a girl. we have a little girl,” chuckling from glee.

“we have a girl,” he repeated as he leaned forward to kiss your forehead and tuck some of your hair away. “i want her to be just like you,” very confident in the chances of that happening.

spencer shook his head, “for your sake i hope not and for my heart i hope she looks like you.” a gentle finger tracing over your nose, the shape of your lips. “well i only hope she doesn’t get your puppy eyes, it’ll be her one power over both of us.” staring directly into said eyes right now.

“alright, she’s ready for you.” a nurse walked to your right side with your baby, now wearing a pink bow. “would you like to do skin to skin? helps her recognize you through touch. also good for the dad as well.” waiting for either to reply first.

“i’ll go first.” shimming your hospital gown away from your shoulder and chest so there was enough surface area, “i have a feeling i’m gonna fall asleep soon, but i’m gonna hold her until i can keep my eyes open.” holding your hands out to take her then second guessing and getting them in the cradle position but still not sure, “uh, which is better?” asking the nurse who hovered.

“i’d say hands so you can lay her to your chest. cradling is better for later.” nodded and slowly took your baby from the nurse and maneuvered her tiny self so her head was resting on your shoulder. “oh wow,” whispering to yourself. it completely sunk in now, she’s yours.

“i’m a freaking mom,” whispering over her back towards spencer. a slow palm rubbed along her back and quickly her breathing synced with yours, her tiny fists were too cute.

there was a little space on your bed and you called for spencer to join you. he sank down slowly and threw a long arms over your shoulder, his free hand caressing your forearm. “what should we name her? we can’t call her fruits anymore.” whispering beside your ear.

your mouth twisted, “i kinda want to name her after something from literature. like juliet or charlotte. do you have any ideas?” turning his way.

his eyes were focused on the sleeping babe, a little smile quirking a corner of his lips. “maybe annabeth. the combination of anna and elizabeth forms the meaning of god has favored me. and i think that works for us as well, we’ve been favored by having her. also anna can mean beautiful and it’s all because of you.” kissing your temple, his kisses have been never ending the past nine months.

“annabeth… annabeth diana reid. our beautiful gift.” pressing her first kiss of many to her head. “i think it’s your turn now. my eyes are getting heavy.”

spencer nervously started to unbutton his shirt and then slowly you traded off. you watched as spencer stood back up and kept a gently motion to his body wanting her to continue napping. he kept his voice low as he recited facts about anything, knowing she’s gonna love the sound of his voice growing up.

“can you tell us a story?” something you’ll ask spencer from time to time when you needed just a little push into dreamland. “of course, sweetheart. i’ll do my favorite book from childhood, alice in wonderland. once upon a time there was a girl named alice…”

#erin writes spencer #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x pregnant!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic

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writella · 10 months

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Go to Sleep

Synopsis: Daryl and the reader explore a new way of trying to help you get to sleep.

Details: Smut, 18+, soft-dom!Daryl, afab!reader, tiny bit of mean Daryl but not really, tiny bit of somnophilia but in the end it isn’t really either, Daryl reveals a little of his praise kink, thigh riding, oral (reader receiving), brief descriptions of anxiety, but ends sweetly. wc: 2.8k.

You hate the feeling of having your eyes closed but being so, desperately awake. It feels like a frustrating loop of constantly thinking about the thing you should be doing, the peace you should be feeling, but you simply, just, can’t.

It’s not like when you’re sitting out in the woods, the sun so nice and bright as you rest upon a tree, or when you’re on a ride with Daryl and you close your eyes, resting on his shoulder as the wind hits your face. It doesn’t feel warm and safe; it feels like a dark, void space, and you’re running endlessly to nowhere.

This is how it was, you had been having terrible sleep for weeks now. You felt it in your throat and in your chest whenever— and it was every time— that you woke up with your heart pounding in the middle of the night. You felt your heart beating without even touching your body, and it made you want to throw up.

This is why Daryl had slept with you for the past two weeks, hoping to ease your thoughts.

What you and Daryl had remained undefined at this point. He was loyal and cared for you deeply, but he was also independent and enjoyed doing things at his own pace— initiating wasn’t his strong suit.

This is also why, just the other night nearing twelve am, you had to beg Daryl to take you around the Alexandria houses for a fourth time on his bike before allowing him to leave you on your doorstep. This is where you admitted what was going on, “Please,” you asked sadly, “When I’m alone… I just- I just start thinking too much. I can’t sleep.”

So of course, he took you around again. He didn’t even say anything, just grabbed one of your hands tighter around him, starting to ride slowly. Firstly because he wasn’t trying to wake anyone up, and secondly because he was trying to make it last longer for you. He went around five more times.

Every time you saw your home approaching again your eyes dropped knowing what was coming until he just kept going. But after the fifth time, just when you hoped maybe this was a dream where you could just go around in peaceful circles all night with Daryl, he stopped. He had to sleep too.

He stood between his bike then, waiting for you to get your door, but you moved at a deafeningly slow pace. You hated the darkness that was beginning to weigh behind your eyes. You hated the night now and you hated it even more when you weren’t with him. So, as you hit the top step, you turned back around, running up to him.

Your eyes were meek when you paused before making your final request, “Daryl… please, will you stay with me?”

And that did it: as if you already hadn’t made him go around the neighborhood almost 10 times, those were the words that hit him at the bottom of his heart the most. Neither of you were ever as forward as you were being that night and he couldn’t say no. You told him that you needed him.

The first night was a success, in fact. You happened to fall asleep quite quickly as his strong arms held you down, grounding you in safety. Though as the days trailed on, it seemed that wasn’t exactly enough anymore. Your intrusive thoughts always found a way of sneaking in through Daryl’s stronghold.

Tonight was a night like that. Your eyes were closed, but your mind was very much awake.

You had initially gone to sleep on your side— you both were. Daryl’s face was almost touching yours.

He wasn’t much of a talker all the time, but the typical method that had been working other than laying on his chest was asking him about his day, what things he might have gathered from any trips outside, or seeing if, and it was only on rare occasions, he would tell you a story from his past.

There weren’t many fond memories, but he would always find something: maybe about one of his first hunting trips, or some hijinks he and his brother got into before he ditched when Daryl was a kid… but he didn’t like casually talking about his brother. He’d keep those short for now. You waited patiently for them to get longer. Either way, the stories always helped you get to that initial sleep, so he’d make sure to find one to tell if it made you feel better.

But now you were still awake and Daryl was seemingly asleep. You knew he could probably tell you were turning and shifting at some points, but you didn’t want to truly wake him up yet. It felt greedy after he was being so giving. And it was so rare to see him so peaceful. His eyes were usually elusive and stern. You might have started to know him more than others, but still, it wasn’t all the time that you could tell what was in his head. He was always guarded, especially between the mouth and eyes, but when he was asleep, his face relaxed.

Though the insomnia was killing you, it was nice to see him like this— he was just so handsome. His hair, his lips, his arms— you were obsessed with every shirt he ruined by cutting the sleeve— his abdomen, you almost grazed his lower stomach with your finger tips, thinking about if and how much you would love his-

Then a thought came up.

Probably worse than waking him up even though that would do it regardless, but you moved mindlessly before really thinking about it.

Your legs slid forward, slotting Daryl’s top leg that perched forward, knee almost touching your leg, in the middle of your own two.

Your legs move up a bit and you brush yourself against his thigh once, the movement is so small, then twice, the slight friction feels good, your eyes finally close again, but then you stop. What were you doing? Your head turns face first into the bed and stays there for a moment, quietly letting out your frustration into the sheet.

“You gonna move or what?” It comes out as a grumble and it makes you jut.

You’ve been caught.

“You ain’t slick,” his eyes are still closed, “but go on.” He takes his top leg out from between you and places it better, from the awkwardness ‘trying’ to not wake him up angle you had it at before.

You hold his top shoulder and he holds you right by the waist and you begin to rock. Daryl starts to flex his quad up into you as you grind down onto him. Your wetness finally seeping up so that your lips open a little as they push and rock against him. You can now feel your clit getting more attention from the hard pressure his thigh causes against you.

Daryl opens his eyes for a moment, yours are closed. Face twisted and eyes scrunched as you let out short breaths. You were invested in getting yourself off, you grinded down faster, his hands on your hips now were loose allowing you to go as hard as you pleased, for a minute, then another, and then another until he stopped you.

He pushed his hands and fingertips hard into your hips, deciding he wanted to control the pace. He pushed you into him slow and deep and despite it feeling good, you wanted to go fast, to stop thinking. It made you whine, complainingly as you came down from the high you felt you could have reached. “But Daryl-”

“Shut up.” It sounded like a quiet bark.

You were getting him riled up, yes, but it was also a full moon tonight and Daryl would rather be sleeping on the hard rock ground under the stars than in a bed, only being able to stare at the sky from a window. Even though he knew you had been feeling anxious about something for a while, and he wanted to make you feel okay, he can’t lie, your sleep not improving was starting to get on his nerves a bit. And especially so tonight when your restlessness kept him up the whole time, despite you not knowing.

He allowed you to keep riding him at his pace for a moment until he got a new idea: he pushed your leg off and you gave an exasperated sighed, frustrated at the feeling of nothingness. “Shh,” was all he whispered, it came out sharp.

“Daryl, let’s just-”

“Stop.” He took you by the face when he said it, squeezing your jaw roughly. “Don’t talk.”

He lays you on your back and takes off your pants you were sleeping with, they’re ruined, and you weren’t wearing any underwear after your shower. The blanket is pushed to his side of the bed now as he goes downward, spreading your legs, not too wide but just enough for him to get in between. Holding your thighs, his thumbs kneading the skin on the inner side. He licks the outside of your hole, almost slurping in your wetness as he does it just so he could move it up your pussy toward your clit and sucks in again. He lays his tongue flat and presses back down again, repeating the motion, making you even more wet, everywhere.

Your upper back moved forward, your elbows and forearms propped up so you could watch. This felt better than before, even with his slower movements, he felt so good there so instantly that you couldn’t help yourself but staying up to look, but after he sees you he stops.

Silently, Daryl pushes your shoulders back into the bed, you can’t tell if he was only accidentally being rough. He pushes your pillow up only slightly against the headboard, just enough so your head wasn’t completely propped up, but just so if you wanted to move your head to the side you could still look if you wanted to when you realized you could. “Stay,” then begrudgedy he adds, “and close your eyes.”

Daryl went down again, making his pace slower than before: His lips and tongue sucked in your clit again, it coming into his mouth as much as the little thing could and he repeats it again until he had peppered you there with slobbery kisses and then he moved to one side of your labia, his lips slotting themselves above and under that one side as his tongue goes out and in, kissing you deeply. The man was literally making out with your pussy.

Just as he would with your mouth, his head turned and leaned into it, pushing his tongue in and pressing against you, his lips in between one of your own down there as he did so. He went in the middle of you again, his nose rubbing against your clit a few times as his tongue went lower, sucking in more of your wetness again. His nose brushing against you made you shudder.

Your eyes were still closed, but they scrunched even harder now and your head started shaking side to side. You have never felt him down there being so intentional, deliberate, and intense. Something so surprisingly romantic, but still so fucking dirty and sexy. He has pushed your wetness everywhere. You felt like a dripping mess and more than half of his face was all coated in it and it just felt so good.

He moved to the other side of your pussy now, giving it the same attention as he did the first. Making out with you down there as if he could do it forever. So slow, but it felt so warm and deep.

You felt him suck you in and swallow some of your wetness. He hummed into you as he did it, a raspy “mmmm” melted into you and it made you moan, the sound coming from you instantaneously because of the vibration you felt down there from his voice. You covered your mouth, your house was quiet and you didn’t want to wake anyone up but the more he continued, the harder it was becoming.

Now, his lip suctioned your pussy lip in between his and he slid down, tongue trailing the inner side until he was able to slot his tongue inside your hole, staying there and still kissing you. Moving his tongue in and out now, still slowly, feeling every bit as he moved.

Your quiet pants were continuous, but you were trying hard to hold in your noises. Not wanting to wake up anybody else you lived with, but also not knowing if Daryl would stop again if you spoke too much.

To your misfortune, he stopped anyway. Your eyes open and push your head to the side of your pillow so you can look down at him. Your mouth was open, but you made sure not to complain.

His chin almost rested on your mound, he was already looking up. “Does it feel good?” You couldn’t read his eyes, but his voice was surprisingly tender and questioning.

You assured him immediately, “yes,” you whispered giggling. You brush his hair with your fingers, undoing some tangles. You got lost in his eyes for a moment before he went down again.

“Tell me,” he says, it almost sounds muffled as he sucks you in until he takes a breath to say more clearly, “I wanna hear you now.”

“Don’t wanna get to loud,” you’re breathless.

He licks you off his lips, looking you in the eye, “so don’t.”

Daryl starts going faster now, breathing you in and humming, knowing you can feel the vibrations, jerk. “Mmm, Daryl, please.” You start to pant again, still too scared you might let yourself go too far.

His fingers spread wide, splaying over to your lower stomach, pushing down until he reaches your tit and circling your nipples. His other hand joins him, it makes you inhale sharply. With that and the way he circled your hole, trying to get his tongue to go in and press as much as he could, it caused you to jerk up, taking one of his hands in your own, squeezing it. Your other hand went to his hair. His fingers weren’t even inside of you, but his hands felt so big no matter where he touched you and his tongue felt incredible, you didn’t know how he did it and it made you start to loose it, “ah- Daryl-”

“You like that?” He pushed you hand off his head and he took his free hand to finger your clit and he went back to sucking and making out with you toward your center. It all makes you nod your head, shaking quickly.

“Say it.”

“I like it,” it came out as a whispered shriek. “I like it, I like it,” you were breathless, “Daryl you feel so good.” You were holding on as hard as you could, but it wasn’t working. Your thighs came to close in on his face but he pushed his hands into your inner legs opening them even further and he kept going down, his nose pressing into you.

His mouth moved up again making out with your clit and lips on top and two of his fingers went into your hole.

You held onto his other hand again and squeezed and he thrusted his fingers into you hard and fast, he wanted to make you reach the end now.

“Oh- Daryl- oh my god,” you were coming out pathetically now as his fingers started to curl into you, and he added another.

Suddenly, you felt it. Right at the bottom of your stomach, the spark, the indescribable electricity as he kept humming into you on top and jamming into you at the bottom. All you heard was the squelch of you and his fingers and tongue lapping and lapping until you let out as much of a suppressed moan as you could release as you came.

Your eyes finally relaxed as you settled down and Daryl sat up on the bed, watching your breathing slow.

He stayed there for a moment, looking at how the night’s light shined on you from the window.

You had pulled the blanket over your legs again but he pulled it off. You didn’t know exactly what he was doing but your eyes were still closed. You were tired and sexed out now, you couldn’t get yourself to open them or ask questions, and it wasn’t a particularly cold night anyway and you still had his shirt on. You let it be, your mind finally drifting until you heard quiet footsteps travel down stairs, until they quickly ascended again.

Daryl took you by the upper back and under your knees, picking you up. With no words he took you to the front porch, gently laid you on the blanket, the side closest to the door. He laid himself on the opposite, closest to the sky.

You’re curled into his chest, you almost looked like a kitten, arm over him, fist curling into your chin contentedly, eyes closed and so peaceful, but you still kept nestling.

“Go to sleep,” he insisted softly. His hand went into your hair, lulling you further into your trance. This time it worked. He did everything right and now the trick was paying off, you couldn’t help but fall closer and closer into your slumber.

Daryl turned to his left to look at the moon, its gentle gleam finally coaxing him into his own sleep as well.

#the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x reader smut #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x y/n #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #twd smut #the walking dead smut

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narryffdreaming · 2 months

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A TOAST TO THE FUTURE — ONE

Summary: Aurora and Harry used to be friends, but life happened and they grew apart. Now, 6 years later, they meet again.

Rating: +18

WARNINGS: The story contains explicit language and mentions a past abusive relationship (mostly the consequences of psychological/emotional abuse). Some chapters also contain explicit sexual content.

Author's note: You have no idea how much I love these characters and how nervous I am to finally share this story again. I posted ATTTF for the first time back in 2022 but never got to finish it, so I'm hoping I'll get to do it this time! If you read this, I hope you enjoy it, and please be gentle with them! (lol)

PART ONE: 5,4k words

The sky is still dark when the Uber driver drops Aurora off at Stansted airport.

The polite man, who just kept her company for an hour and a half, wishes her a safe trip, and Aurora smiles, waving him a last goodbye and wishing him a good day right before she shuts the door of his black Toyota Prius. Once alone, a light breeze tickles her shoulders, but she doesn't give it enough time to settle as she rearranges the strap of the navy duffel bag on her shoulder and turns around, then sets her feet into motion.

Hopefully, she isn't late. She doesn't think she is. She left the house forty minutes before she needed to, and the ride to get there was shorter than expected because of the early hour, so she shouldn't be.

Still, she wants to make sure.

Just in case.

You can blame it on the fact that she hasn't spent a weekend with her friends in years. Or that it is the first time she's going out since… Well, since everything in her life turned upside down.

The strap of her bag slips from her shoulder, and Aurora catches it between her fingers. She puts it back in place and tightens her grip around the soft fabric, turning sideways to squeeze herself between a group of people that's happily chatting on the sidewalk. An apology leaves her mouth as she runs past them, but they don't seem to care nor notice they're standing in her way — or in everyone's way.

Has the Stansted airport always been this crowded?

The lights are bright outside, and the glass walls reveal how equally well-lit it is inside the terminal building. When she reaches the automatic doors, they take a moment to open, and she stops. It gives her enough time to catch a glimpse of her reflection, and her stomach quivers. Her hair is messy, the sports bag she's carrying doesn't match the maxi dress she's wearing, and she's showing off too much cleavage for a woman her age.

Those are too many things to notice in one quick glance, and she wishes she hadn't. Still, it is too early in the morning to feel insecure about the way she looks, and she doesn't have time for that. She has a flight to catch.

(Also, she really needs to pee right now.)

So she breathes in deeply and darts her eyes down, then takes her free hand up to her chest and pulls the fabric up. When she moves next, she keeps her sight fixed on the floor, then grabs the pendant of her necklace between her fingers and walks through the doors, biting the flesh inside of her cheek and fidgeting with the gold disk as her feet drag her inside the airport.

Everything feels slow and heavy. And there's a mix of nervousness and anticipation that's building up inside her. It's unsettling, but it keeps her moving, at least.

Once inside, Aurora looks up again. She turns her head to one side, then to the other, short nails never letting go of her necklace.

The wide open area in front of her leads to multiple check-in desks from several different airlines, but she ignores all of them, aiming solemnly on the huge departure boards placed around the terminal.

She doesn't have any luggage to drop, and her boarding pass is printed and ready inside her bag — and, just in case, there's also a copy of it saved on her phone — but she wants to make sure she won't be running late if she takes another five minutes for a quick run to the toilets before standing in line to get through security.

Her determination drives her forward, and she only stops walking when she's right in front of the closest monitor. She blinks a couple of times, making sense of all the information while searching for the only flight she cares about. And it only takes her a minute till she finds it:

6:45, Ryanair, Naples.

She drops her shoulders, and a yawn eases from her mouth, along with a shaky laughter.

She is fine. Everything's just fine. Desks aren't even open for check-in yet, so she has plenty of time to go to the bathroom and wake herself up. There's no need to collapse.

At some point she'll have to face the fact that she didn't sleep at all last night, but she plans to keep herself together and entertained until she's settled on her 2 hours and 45 minutes flight.

Then, she'll sleep.

Aurora turns around, and wanders her eyes to find the nearest toilets. She can't tell when was the last time she's been at Stansted Airport, but everything feels different from what she remembers. Did they go through renovations? Or has it always been big and hectic like this?

Well, it's not like Aurora is familiar with airports, anyway. She doesn't travel that much, and London has too many of them for her to get familiar with. The last time she went somewhere — anywhere — was for Noah's birthday, when she and Zack took him to Disneyland Paris for a quick celebration. They took a flight from Heathrow, though, and that place was so big that it did nothing but overwhelm her. So much that she barely remembers it.

Her chest tightens, and she closes her hand in a fist around the pendant.

A lot has changed since Noah's third birthday. In fact, everything changed because of Noah's third birthday. And things never stopped changing since then. Not even a year and a month later.

Oh God… In a couple of years she is going to be sitting on a leather couch, facing the traumatizing memories she and Zack created for him and apologizing for ruining his childhood.

She knows she will. She can see it happening.

A man bumps into her, and Aurora stumbles forward. She looks over her shoulder and apologizes, but he isn't around to listen anymore. Sighing, she lets go of her necklace and shifts her bag from one shoulder to the other, holding the strap to keep it firmly in place.

What was she even—Oh, toilets!

Right!

She shakes her head.

It takes her another minute until she sees some directions that will help her get there, and then she's walking again.

The toilets she's heading to are placed in a much quieter area, where even the lights are dim. Only a few people are there, seemingly waiting for time to pass — some occupying themselves with their phones on the chairs, but most of them laying on the floor, sleeping next to their luggage or using their backpacks as pillows. A baby cries somewhere distant in the terminal, and there's some coughing coming from a corner behind her, but besides that, everything's quiet.

She reaches the door at the exact moment a lady is walking out, and she almost bumps into her. They exchange polite smiles, and Aurora takes a step aside to make room for her to walk by. Once the lady is off her way, Aurora moves inside, then lets the door shut behind her, and everything goes silent.

The room is bright again, and someone must've just cleaned the place, because the smell of disinfectant is fresh and strong.

Aurora sighs. She heads to the last stall, walking past a row of other six on her way there.

After relieving herself, she stops by the sinks and washes her hands, taking the opportunity to look around her. And mostly to look at her.

The mirrors are big, almost covering the entire green wall between the sink and the ceiling, from side to side. To be fair, staring at her reflection doesn't sound like a good idea, but she promised she would try her best to go into the weekend with a positive mindset, and she can't do that while feeling so insecure about herself.

She lets the duffel bag slide down her arm and places it between her legs, then crouches to find her washcloth inside it. Holding the soft fabric between her fingers, she closes the zipper and stands up again.

Public toilets aren't the ideal places for skincare routines, but she's determined to do the best of whatever she can get. She places the washcloth on her shoulder and grabs the hair tie from her wrist, pulling her locks into a bun and getting them out of her way. Hunching down, she turns the tap on and puts her hands together, filling them with water before splashing it on her face. The coldness makes her wince, but it also makes her shoulders relax, and she pulls her lips into a timid smile.

She repeats the same process three times before grabbing the washcloth again and placing it against her skin. She doesn't rub it, but instead lets the fabric soak in the dampness. Finally putting her hands down, she looks at her reflection in the mirror, and bites the insides of her cheek. Her face looks more alive now that she's freshened up, but the rest of her body doesn't feel the same.

When she'd put that maxi dress on, an hour before leaving her house, she didn't think she would end up regretting the outfit. It's been probably a decade since the last time she's put it on, sure, but it used to be one of her favorites, and she always went for it when she didn't know what to wear. She used to consider it her safe choice.

And yet, wearing it now feels everything but safe.

It also doesn't feel nearly as comfortable as it used to. Maybe it's because of the straps… She never wears sleeveless outfits anymore, let alone something that's held by such a thin string of fabric. And the V neck… Oh God. How did she walk around London showing off her chest so comfortably? How did she go to class not bothering about people being able to see the curve of her breasts?

Even its color shade looks weird now, and she's not sure she enjoys how that rust red looks on her anymore. Her body hasn't seen the sun in a really long time, and her skin doesn't look very appealing — it's dry, and filled with stretch marks.

Honestly, the full length and loose fit are the only things she can still appreciate from the dress — although around her waist it doesn't feel as loose as it used to feel before.

Shit. Did she even pack one thing that's going to make her feel good about herself in Italy?

No, of course she didn't. Because Madison was the one who helped her pack for the weekend, so of course all of her choices included the tiniest, brightest and most provocative outfits that were hidden and forgotten inside of her closet since… Well, basically since Aurora stopped being single, to be honest.

"You need to loosen up," she'd said. Along with "you're divorced, not dead," and "your tits need to see the sun; they are gorgeous, they deserve it".

Alone inside the restroom, Aurora rolls her eyes at the memory of her best friend's words. Obviously, the whole chit-chat did nothing to convince her. Most of the old clothes Maddie had found hadn't seen the light of day in almost a decade, and Aurora doesn't have the same body she used to have back then to simply put them on again.

Not to mention she doesn't want Noah to ever see her wearing any of those outfits. It's not the image of a mother she wants him to remember. And she's been already messing up so many things for him, that she doesn't need to add "being an embarrassing mom" to the list — and she won't add an accusation of excessively exposing her son to his own mother's naked body in those future therapy sessions she already knows she'll be paying for.

Call it damage control, if you want to. After all, that's how she's facing it herself.

But then Maddie had put her hands on her shoulders, stared deeply into her eyes, and said: "it's going to be us. Just us. It's the perfect and safest place to have some fun and try out of your comfort zone. And you and I both know how much you need it right now." And Aurora couldn't fight her on that, so she said yes and agreed to put all of her jeans and t-shirts away for the weekend — which she can now confirm was a terrible, terrible decision.

She sighs. Again.

It's going to be a long weekend, isn't it?

Still examining herself, she turns around and looks over her shoulder, facing her back on the mirror. Fortunately, it doesn't show too much skin, although the flesh of her armpits could be more covered.

There was a time when Aurora felt breezy and comfortable on her own body. When she looked at herself and felt beautiful and free. Even sexy. Now, though, the simple thought makes her laugh. It sounds ridiculous, and she can't even make sense of it.

Biting her lip, she turns around one more time, and something catches her eye. She stops midway, narrowing her eyes to find out what it is, and then, she raises her eyebrows, and a spark of hope ignites inside her — she completely forgot about the adjustable straps!

Fully turning around, she squats down and puts the washcloth away, then stands up, already reaching both hands towards her back to tighten and shorten the strings. It isn't easy, and for a moment she even considers to hide inside of a stool and take the dress off to do it more comfortably, but eventually she succeeds, and the slight change instantly makes her chest feel more covered.

It's a small win, but Aurora is serious about making the best of whatever she can get that weekend, so she takes it, and smiles at her reflection.

The gold disk shines on her chest, and she takes it between her fingers, pulling it to her mouth and placing a soft kiss to it. She's really going to miss spending the weekend with Noah, but she knows she needs to take care of herself to be able to take care of him, and that it's also important for him to spend some time with his dad. Besides, it's only going to be three days — not even that. By Sunday afternoon she'll be back home with him, and everything will go back to normal.

Yes, see? That's it: two days.

Two relaxing and fun days with her friends, and then everything will go back to normal.

The line to get through security is huge.

Aurora stops behind a chatty and cheerful family of five, and sighs. She puts her frizzy hair down, then crosses her arms under her chest and lifts one hand to fidget aimlessly with her pendant.

Honestly? She can't wait to get to Italy. She can't wait to finally see that beautiful ocean in the Amalfi Coast. It's a trip she always dreamed about, but also one she didn't think would actually happen — and one she's sure she wouldn't be actually embarking on if she hadn't been forced to by her friends.

Aurora's mouth turns into a smile, and she looks at the ground, taking the pendant to cover her lips.

Despite everything that went wrong with her own marriage, she is happy for Lucy and Theo. She truly is. Just because things didn't work out for her, it doesn't mean they won't for them. Besides, their relationship is the only thing between all of them that hasn't changed since their graduation, so who knows? Maybe they'll have better luck than her and Zack. Maybe Lucy won't mess things up like she did, and maybe Theo won't—

"Auri?" a deep and low voice calls. Aurora furrows her brows and takes her hand down from her lips, putting her necklace back to its place. "Aurora?"

She turns on her feet, finding flamingos on a loose black shirt. Blinking a couple of times, she darts her eyes up, and meets the face of a friend she hasn't thought of in a really long time.

She widens her eyes, and places the palm of her hand on her cheek.

"Oh my God," she whispers. She raises her eyebrows, and her mouth curves into a smile at the same time it falls open. "Harry!"

She breathes out a laugh and takes a step forward, then stands on her tiptoes and throws her arms around his neck.

The duffel bag on her shoulder follows the movement of her body, hitting Harry's stomach before she can stop it.

"Ouch," he groans into her ear.

Aurora pulls away. "Sorry, sorry—"

He chuckles, hunching down slightly and placing his hands in the middle of her back.

"'S okay, c'mere," he says, pulling her body closer and crossing his arms around her waist, embracing her into a tight hug.

Heat takes over her body, radiating through her chest and tingling from head to toe. It's so good to see him! She can't help the smile that lightens up her face, so she closes her eyes and rests her chin on his shoulder, circling his neck with the same affection he's putting into his hold.

"What are you doing here?!" she asks, still too excited to let him go.

Did he get even taller?

Or is he just stronger than he used to be?

"Probably the same thing as you?" Harry chuckles.

Shit. She's so stupid! Of course Harry would be at Lucy and Theo's party. Of course! After all, he was part of the group, too. Sure, maybe the last to join and the youngest of them all, and also the only one living across the world, but still… He was—he is part of the group. And Lucy and Theo would invite him, too. Of course they would. How didn't she think of him when thinking about the weekend?

"Don't wanna break the moment," Harry murmurs, rubbing his hand up and down her back, "but I think we gotta walk."

Aurora jumps away, holding her weight on his shoulder and twisting her neck to see the line ahead of her. She slides her fingers down, watching as the family of five gathers their things. They aren't rushing, though, and it doesn't seem like they'll be taking more than two steps forward.

Still smiling, she bites her bottom lip to keep her excitement down, then looks back at him.

Harry is standing with his arms loose on each side of his body, chin down while he stares down at his chest.

Following his sight, Aurora finds her own hand, and she widens her eyes. She's clutching at the second button, where both sides of his black shirt with pink flamingos meet. His hairy chest is on display, just like tiny bits of black ink tattooed on his skin and the long golden string of a necklace.

A rush runs through her fingers, and she withdraws her arm.

"Sorry," she whispers, pulling her hand to her own chest and squeezing it into a fist.

Harry clears his throat.

"'S okay," he murmurs. Without looking at her, he straightens his back and stretches an arm, pointing out to the empty space in front of them. "Shall we?"

Aurora moves quickly, shuffling on her feet and nodding in silence. She turns around, and the strap of her bag falls from her shoulder, dropping to the crook of her arm. She winces, and stumbles a little.

"Shit."

"Here," Harry says, and the weight on her elbow disappears. "Let me."

Frozen, she watches — and feels — the way he gently grabs her wrist and takes her bag out of her arm, pulling it to himself.

"Harry…" She drops her shoulders. "You don't have to."

"Just walk, c'mon. We're holding the line."

Aurora peeks over his shoulder, and certainly people don't seem friendly while watching them. She sighs, but turns around and walks.

It only takes them three steps to reach the family of five once again, though, and she's back to facing him.

Harry is rearranging the straps on his shoulders, holding two duffel bags now — his own, and hers.

"Okay," she says, stretching her arm to him, "now give me that."

He chuckles, and dodges her. "Nope."

"C'mon!" She rolls her eyes, but a smile dances on her lips. "I can carry my own bag, okay?"

Harry shrugs. "Never said you couldn't."

She sighs, and tilts her head. "Harry…"

"Will you stop being stubborn?"

Harry grins widely, contrasting his words, and his eyes brighten with amusement.

Aurora lifts her brows and parts her lips. A shaky chuckle coming out of her mouth. "I—Excuse me?"

Harry diverts his eyes somewhere behind her, and he tilts his chin up.

"C'mon, we gotta walk again."

Lifting her left eyebrow, Aurora crosses her arms, and stares silently at him.

Harry glances back at her, then presses his lips together, watching her for a moment as he wanders his eyes around her face. He purses his mouth, and then he cracks into soft, genuine laughter.

"Ha!" He throws his head back for a moment, chuckling lightly, then looks back at her. "I totally forgot you could do that."

Aurora's beaming, just like him, but her heart is racing, and her breath gets stuck in her throat. His smile is really contagious, framed by deep dimples on his cheeks and wrinkles all around his eyes. It's hard not to feel mesmerized by it.

"Uh…" She blinks a couple of times. "Do what, exactly?"

He walks, prompting her to walk along with him. Still smiling, he points a finger up, right to her face. "The thing… Y'know. With your eyebrow."

"Oh…" Aurora widens her eyes for a second. "Right."

She laughs and shakes her head, relaxing the muscles of her entire body, including her face.

She takes one hand to her forehead, and rubs the tip of her middle finger on her left eyebrow. Even though it's something she used to intentionally do pretty often when she was younger, usually to prove a point, it was also something that came up so naturally to her that she never paid too much attention to it. And a habit that, with time, she left behind. However, now that she found out Noah thinks it's super cool that his mom can lift only one eyebrow while most people can't, she's been consciously doing it more often. She never cared about being a cool mom, to be honest, but lately it seems the title started to mean something to her.

They stop walking, much closer to the metal detectors now, and Aurora stretches her arm again. She doesn't say a word, simply reaching for the strap of her bag on his shoulder.

"Auri..." Harry chuckles. He grabs her wrist between his fingers, then slides his touch to her hand, taking it to his mouth. He places a single kiss on her knuckles, and looks at her. "Please, 's nothing. I promise."

Aurora presses her lips together tightly, words getting stuck on her throat. It only lasted a second, but it was enough to keep the warmth of his lips lingering onto her cold skin.

"Okay." She nods. Her voice is softer, and she looks down to smile. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," he says, taking her hand down and gently letting it go. "Did you bring a jacket?"

Raising her head, Aurora narrows her eyes, and meets his stare. "What?"

"Your hand's really cold." He shrugs. "Do you want my jacket?"

Aurora chuckles, and waves him off. "Oh no, I'm fine. My hands are always cold."

Harry pulls his brows together. He opens his mouth to say something, but quickly shuts it again.

"Anyway…" She clears her throat. "How are you? We haven't talked in… I don't know… Five? Six years?"

Harry looks down and nods, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Around that, yeah."

"Hmm… Well, I had no idea you were back in the UK!"

"Uh, yeah." He shifts on his feet, and shrugs. "Came back a couple of weeks ago, actually. Haven't seen anyone yet."

Taking one hand out of his pockets, he lifts his arm and scratches his jaw. The movement draws Aurora's attention to the facial hair he seems to be growing, but also to his chipped yellow nail polish and the three rings he's carrying on his fingers. And when he rakes the same hand through his curls, pulling his hair away from his face, she notices the amount of new tattoos covering his slightly tanned skin.

His movements are subtle, almost timid, but Aurora is hypnotized. She hasn't seen him since… Damn, when was the last time she saw him? He was at her wedding, she remembers that, because she remembers the floral-printed suit he was wearing, and that his hair used to be longer than—

Aurora gasps, and Harry jolts.

"What?"

"Your hair!" Uncrossing her arms, she takes a step forward. She stands on her tiptoes and reaches for his head, touching the tips of his short curls while switching her voice to a soft murmur, "It's so… Short."

Harry shoves his hand back inside his pocket, but doesn't say anything, and Aurora entertains herself stroking the hair at the back of his neck, and then pulling some longer bits around his ears.

"Oh my God…" she murmurs again.

For as long as she's known Harry, she's known him with curls long enough to french braid, pull into buns and even attempt some ponytails — he hated the last ones, by the way. The girls used to tease him for having softer and shiner hair than any of them, and they all even went through a phase of trying to use the same hair products as him.

And yet, looking at him now, she's not sure if there's length enough for even a hair clip. Well, maybe a tiny one, to keep those curls that fall into his forehead out of the way… But still…

"The line," Harry murmurs.

Aurora pulls her arm to her chest, and lands her heels back on the floor.

"Right."

She turns around and takes a couple of steps forward, and an unsettling feeling grows in the pit of her stomach. It squeezes her lungs, and it makes her mouth go dry, so she presses her lips into a hard line and swallows. Then, she takes a deep breath in. And another one.

There's silence between them, until Harry clears his throat.

"I cut it as soon as I left," he explains, and Aurora glances at him over her shoulder. "I think this is the longest it's been since then." He shrugs. "I'll probably do something about it next week."

Aurora hums, and curls one side of her mouth up.

"You got a lot of new tattoos, as well."

Harry smiles, albeit sheepishly, and nods once. "Guess I did."

Facing away from him, Aurora can't help but smile again.

What a weird thing it is, to stand in front of Harry after so many years and find everything about him so familiar, yet completely different and strange at the same time. To have grown so distant from his friendship, and yet feel as close to him as she's ever felt before.

How could she forget about him?

How could she go through life without thinking about a friend? Without wondering about how they are, or what's going on with their lives?

Shit.

Tapping one foot on the floor, she grabs her necklace between her fingers.

She can't spiral into this right now. She hates coming face to face with the person she's become, and this weekend isn't for her to swell into guilt and drama. She's supposed to have fun. She's supposed to let things go. She's supposed to—

"Auri?"

Aurora stops the steady movement of her foot, and looks at him over her shoulder. "Yeah?"

Someone from security calls the next passenger, and she follows Harry's movements to walk forward, not even bothering to look where she's going.

"Nothing." Harry shakes his head, dismissing the subject, but Aurora can see the way his brain is working hard to figure something out. Noah tends to do the same a lot of the time — he'll have questions, and when he doesn't understand the answer, he'll purse his lips and shift his eyes around him, as if looking for a different explanation.

It appears Harry is going through the same process, because he keeps staring at her arms, and at her hands. And when he pinches at his bottom lip — something she recognizes as an old habit of his — it's enough for her to confirm her suspicion.

"Harry…" She chuckles and rolls her eyes, making sure to keep her voice soft as she calls him out. "Don't be silly. Just say what's on your mind, c'mon."

An amused and short laugh leaves his chest, and she smiles at the way his entire face lights up again.

"'S nothing… I was just… Because you… I mean, you don't seem to be taking a lot of stuff… Then I realized you… Well… I was wondering…"

There's a bit of silence, and it quickly becomes clear he won't complete any of his half-sentences.

Aurora half-smiles. "Yes?"

"Sorry." He shakes his head. "Is your husband coming, too?"

"Oh…" She lifts her brows, then puts them down again.

She nods once, understanding where he's coming from. It is a genuine question, a very reasonable doubt. After all, the last time they saw each other was at the wedding — her wedding — and not many people know about the many changes in her life since then. So she can't expect him to know, nor blame him for asking.

She doesn't want to say the words out loud, though. Is there a way to tell him without actually telling him?

"Hm, no," she tries. "It's just me. Zack's with Noah."

Harry hums. He gives her a lopsided smile, and nods.

Aurora frowns, and turns around to face the line.

That probably wasn't helpful. It didn't announce Zack isn't in her life anymore. It just seemed like he stayed home with Noah.

Which he did, yes, but he isn't at home with Noah. He is at his own place, a very fancy apartment he didn't struggle at all to buy after their divorce.

Ugh! Why is it so hard for her to announce to the world that Zack isn't her husband anymore? He hasn't been for a while now, and it's not like she wishes he would still be. Honestly, figuring out her relationship with Zack keeps being exhausting, no matter how much distance she puts between them.

Will that ever change? Will things ever get easier for her?

"How's he, by the way?" Harry's voice sounds behind her. "Noah, I mean. Just turned four, right?"

Aurora bites her lip, but it isn't enough to hold back the grin on her face.

People move forward, and they walk a couple of steps. There are only three passengers left in front of the family of five.

Aurora nods.

"Yes, he's four now. And he's the most adorable kid in the world! So, so, so sensitive, and so smart" —she walks forward again, but doesn't stop talking— "and now he's getting into this stage of trying to do things by himself, and it's just so endearing to watch! And he's really chatty, too, oh my. He loves telling stories, so he keeps—"

Aurora widens her eyes, and turns around.

Harry is beaming at her, and she covers her mouth with one hand.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles against her palm, then puts it back down. "Sorry, sorry. I'm so—I mean, I know, I'm one of those mums now."

"What?!" Harry laughs. "I was loving it! Was even hoping you'd show me a couple of pictures."

Her cheeks warm up, and she looks at her feet.

"Right."

Her hair falls to her face, and she takes both hands to put it behind her ears.

Please, don't blush.

Please just keep it together.

"Hey, I mean it." He places one hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. His hand is warm, but his rings are cold and her skin tingles with goosebumps. Shit. Now, her earlier prayer becomes a silent cry of help for him not to notice her reaction. "He sounds a lot like you, by the way."

Her lips twitch, and she bites her bottom lip to hold back the stupid smile that keeps looming on her face.

"Well… Would you really like to see some pictures? 'Cause I have plenty of them."

Peeking up at him, she finds him staring and smiling. Harry's hand is still on her shoulder, but it promptly circles her neck, grabbing her opposite side and pulling her forward.

Aurora holds her breath, crushing against Harry's chest as he squeezes her body and kisses the top of her head.

"God," he groans, his lips brushing her hair as they move, "you're so adorable. 'S so good to see you again."

Hii! If you're here, thank you so much for reading part one :) it truly means the world to me! I care a lot about this story and these characters, so I'd love to know your thoughts about it — and I hope you'll feel comfortable to share them with me!

Once again, thank you for reading! :)

Dani

PART TWO

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles au #harry styles writing

243 notes · View notes

slayfics · 4 months

Text

Explosive Tendencies a slow burn fan fiction about the readers developing relationship with Katsuki Bakugo.

Chapter eighteen: Katsuki finally opens up to you.

Chapter links

You were lying in your dorm room trying to focus on studying the lessons you went over today in class. With the events of the last few days, you found it hard to absorb any new information.

For the last several days ever since the provisional licensing exam Katsuki had been ignoring and avoiding you. You knew he was upset about failing but you couldn't shake the feeling that something else was also going on.

In the common room and in classes he never met your gaze and when you texted him everything was left on seen. As angry as you were, you were also concerned about him.

Then last night things seemed to escalate. He was caught breaking curfew apparently fighting with Izuku. You knew he never liked his so-called childhood friend but what the fuck?

"Ugh!" You threw your book and laid down on your bed. It appeared to be no use to study. You couldn't decipher if you were more pissed or worried. You had even messaged him after the fight to try and talk to him, but again nothing.

You opened your phone to see the last message you sent to Katsuki.

I know you're hurting please talk to me.

Seen.

Whatever- if that's how things are now then so be it. It was then you heard a knock come from the patio of your dorm.

You got up and slid open the curtain to see Katsuki standing on your porch. All at once your body decided you were more angry than upset and you closed the curtain on him.

You turned your back to your patio, feeling rage ignite inside of you. Then came the sound of popping explosions from your patio.

"UGH!" You exclaimed, opening your patio door knowing Katsuki wasn't going to stop until you let him in. You angrily pulled him inside and shut the patio door.

"Hi," he spoke, voice unusually low for him.

"Fucking hi? You ignored me for three days and that's it? Hi?!" You marveled, feeling your anger heighten.

Katsuki didn't respond but sat down on your bed elbows resting on his knees.

You sat in your chair across from him. The room was uncomfortably silent for an amount of time.

Katsuki figured you might be irritated at his lack of interaction with you the last few days, but he had no idea you'd be so pissed. Your last message to him seemed as though you felt sympathetic for him.

You let out an irritated sigh, "I get it. You've been going through a lot of shit recently but so is everyone Bakugo. It's unfair for you to expect me to just be here when you want me and ignore me when you don't. I'm not just some punching bag you know." You spat out.

Punching bag.

Katsuki's memory instantly flashed to Izuku's words when he yelled that he wasn't going to be Katsuki's punching bag anymore.

Your anger kept you from seeing how his shoulders dropped and his usually confident demeanor was lacking. His eyes trailed the floor as he processed your words. He deserved them and he knew it, but he finally came to you in the hope of some comfort. Instead, he was getting more berated. More than he had already berated himself.

He knew it was wrong to ignore you but how could he have told you the truth? That he realized something was going on with Izuku's quirk. All of that was tied to his guilt about what happened to All Might. And he couldn't unravel it on his own. Now he knew the truth and finally figured out what he could tell you, he came to you for comfort but found himself being chewed out.

All Might himself told him it wasn't his fault, but Katsuki knew better. The fact was if he hadn't been kidnapped the events would have been different.

"Hello? Do you have anything to say for yourself? Or did you just fucking come here to ignore me in my own room?" You spat again, even angrier than the last time.

"It's my fault-" he said, voice collapsing on itself as his chest began to heave.

"...What?" You asked, bewildered. Was Katsuki really about to cry?

"All Might- It's my fault- if I was never captured- he wouldn't have lost his power," he said, sobs coming freely from him now.

Your heart instantly broke in two, and you wanted to take back all your harsh words. You had no idea this was what Katsuki had been dealing with all along. You thought he was just pissed about his provisional licenses.

You moved from your chair grabbing Katsuki into an embrace. He rested his head on your chest, and you intertwined your fingers in his hair.

"That's not true-"

"Yes, it is!" He yelled, sobbing. "You all know it! I know you all look down on me because of it!"

You ran your hand in a soothing motion up and down his shoulder while your other hand caressed his hair. You stayed silent and fought the urge to argue in order to allow him to vent all of the thoughts that had been haunting him.

"I'm so fucking weak what the fuck!? How could I have let that happen to the person I've looked up to the most. All my life I've wanted to be like him, but I'm the one that ended up destroying him?? What the fuck am I supposed to do now- how do I-" Katsuki's sobs broke off, and his breathing became more erratic as he struggled to take in air.

You held him tighter to your chest sitting in his pain with him as tears of your own began to fall.

"Bakugo- you've been dealing with this on your own for so long. I'm sorry. You have to know you put too much pressure on yourself. No one ever would have expected you to hold off the whole league of villains on your own. You know that right? And- no one in our class looks down on you. Can't you see how envious they are of your drive and determination?" You spoke softly.

Katsuki didn't speak a word but hid his face in your chest as he continued to sob and listen to your words. He knew you'd know what to say and how to say it.

"Yes- you're right because you got kidnapped that fight happened with All Might. But I know you're not stupid. All Might would have fought that villain at some point regardless of the events. It just happened to be then. It isn't solely your fault and I know for a fact, not a soul thinks that." You continued.

Katsuki's tears slowly started to subside, and your gentle tugging at his hair further soothed him.

"Ask for what you're going to do- you're going to continue to feel what you need to feel to get over it. Then move past it and get stronger like you always do. Because no one looks down on you, it's the opposite, we look up to you. I look up to you. You're a fucking asshole sure, but you're strong and you never give up, and that drive pushes us all to do better. You're going to be an amazing pro hero and we're all excited to see it." You squeezed Katsuki one more before letting him go. "Thank you, for letting me in," you whispered softly.

You took a deep breath and lay on the bed feeling exhausted from the heightened emotions. You were shocked when Katsuki crawled up to lay on your chest. Silent tears were still escaping him now and then. You wrapped your arms around him, and he hid his face again.

"This feeling is going to pass, I promise," you said.

Katsuki wished he could have told you the whole truth. How that worthless fuck ended up with his idol's power. He knew if anyone could make that seem less of a tragedy you could. However, he stayed true to his word to keep it a secret and found comfort in confiding the guilt he had been carrying all this time.

You quickly felt his weight increase as Katsuki fell into a slumber. His chest now rose and fell evenly, all sobs subsiding. He must have been pretty exhausted to fall asleep this quick you realized. You wondered how many nights he had stayed up tormenting himself.

You ran your fingers through his hair, "You can always talk to me Katsuki," You whispered as you felt your own eyes get heavy.

Tags: @anon-mouse223 @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @sikuthealien @queenpiranhadon @melrs21 @poemzcheng @kazuumii @bakunianadecorazon @ur-crusty-uncle @reads-stuff-quietly @chixkadee @perfectsukii @faetoraa @fem-weeb @nagicats @lees-chaotic-brain

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thegoldencontracts · 1 month

Note

Hey! I love your writing and was wondering if I could please request something myself?

Perhaps something where the reader finds out Azul is ticklish?

No pressure ofc^^ I’ll enjoy anything you write. Thank you!

- 🐙

Of course, thank youu for the request! I love the idea of him getting sooo embarrassed and ofc teasingly "oblivious"!reader bc I'm a sucker for flustered Azul and of course PININGGG

That's Preposterous!

Summary: Azul always seems so- perfect, always calm and in control. So when you find a new way to break his composure, you can't help but tease him about it.

Notes: So lovely to write, tw for tickling in case it's a trigger for you

Azul was always calm. Always in control. There was no denying that. You loved that side of him, all those talents, his voice, his grades - all obtained through hard work.

But you also loved to see the little cracks in his composure. The Azul beneath the mask of a perfect businessman. You'd made a little mental scrapbook of all these occasions, like you he blushed when you called him beautiful, or the way he got pouty whenever someone talked about his mess-ups during flight class. You seriously loved seeing those little slip ups.

...Seven, you were so crushing on him. You could practically hear Ace laughing at you for not just confessing already. But that wouldn't happen, because Azul would probably just reject you on the spot. He always talked about how dumb love was, after all.

For now, you'd just have to be satisfied with continuing to try and break through his composure. And hey, sometimes, it worked!

Like now. You were studying with him in the as, and while trying to reach for a book behind Azul, and you accidentally grazed his midsection.

The yelp you received was priceless.

"Huh?" You asked, though a second later, it was pretty apparent what happened. You could feel the grin stretch across your face. Getting that book wasn't important. Right now, you'd just found a new way to break through Azul's composure.

"Azul."

It was lilting, teasing, even, and Azul pretty quickly began to realize what you'd realized.

Azul Ashengrotto was ticklish? Another weakness to add to your little mental scrapbook.

"Is something wrong, Azul?" You asked in the most innocent-sounding voice you could muster.

Azul's eyes narrowed.

"I'm certain you understand the issue," he said, though no amount of defensiveness could hide the way his cheeks were turning red.

Somehow, you felt even more smug than before. This was going to be fun.

"No, no," you said. "Something has to be wrong! Maybe, you're sick? Let me check your temperature."

And so, you skittered your fingers all over his midsection, making it pretty evident that you did not, in fact, think he was sick, and were simply trying to mess with him, because people usually didn't usually check for a fever on the stomach.

Azul kept his lips stubbornly pressed shut, though he still ended up letting out a yelp right before he pushed your hands away.

"C-Cease this at once," he said, cheeks now bright red.

"Why?" You asked, and just as he was about to retort, you poked at his stomach. "Are you sore here or something? If so, I can always help!"

You sounded so innocent there it was actually impressive. Azul, meanwhile, couldn't hold in his laughter anymore.

"S-Shut it, you a-absolute-" Azul cut himself off with laughter. "Creti- Gah!"

Just as he was about to call you a cretin, you upped your attack, sending him into a full-on giggling fit.

"Really, Azul, tell me, what's happening? Why exactly are you laughing so hard? Did I say something funny?"

Azul glared at you as if to say 'How the fuck do you expect me to reply when I'm laughing too hard to talk', though it was hard to take him seriously when his cheeks were bright red and he had the biggest - forced, but still - smile on his face.

You still slowed down. You didn't want to actually cause him pain, after all. As much as you hated to admit it, you loved him way too much for that.

Finally slowing your assault, you shot Azul what was probably one of the coolest looking impish grins of all time.

"So," you started. "Is something wrong, Azul?"

It seemed like the dots had finally connected in Azul's brain. There was only one way to get out of this.

He'd have to admit he was ticklish.

"I-I'm afraid I'm rather..." He trailed off, ducking his head in embarrassment. You weren't having any of that. You scratched a finger under his chin, making him look up with a yelp. "Ticklish."

His face was bright red, eyes looking anywhere but you, and his hair ruffled. You couldn't help but grin as you finally removed your fingers. He looked so- mesmerizing like this.

"Glad to see you admitted it," you said, because the oblivious act had served it's purpose.

Azul just glared at you, but the pout on his face made it much less intimidating.

"Don't speak a word of this to anyone," he said. "Do you understand- Gah!"

You cut him off with a quick poke, and he looked at you incredulously.

"Aww, is Azul embarrassed that he-"

"Get out!" He said, voice cracking midway. He was really embarrassed about this, wasn't he?

You were going to stop for now, though. Or else you feared he might just explode considering how red his face was getting.

"Fine, fine."

As you left the office, though, you managed to catch a glimpse of Azul's fond smile, his little goodbye wave while he thought no one was looking.

#azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland #azul ashengrotto x reader #tina rambles #azul x reader #twst #twst azul #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto x you #azul x you #fluff #tw tickling #<- in case you're uncomfortable with it

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clockwayswrites · 10 months

Text

A Broken Sort of Normal Part 9

WC: 1431, Masterpost CW: blood, cannon typical violence, off screen civilian and first responder deaths, mentions of death

Danny and his Flash were both very busy people, there was no denying that. The good thing was that the worst of their busyness were the same events. Sure, they both had obligations outside of that. Danny had all of the other work with the outreach and now overseeing and even training other team members. Flash… well, Flash had whatever he did with the rest of his life. Danny assumed he worked, even if it was for the Justice League.

It was a little odd not knowing Flash past the mask. Danny understood, of course he did. A secret identity was important and, despite having been on several dates now, they still were getting to know each other. It wasn’t as if Danny didn’t know anything about his Flash. He knew Flash always comforted the kids first, was fiercely loyal, and couldn’t resist petting a dog. He knew Flash loved trying new foods, played video games with friends that Flash wished he saw more, and really did enjoy spoiling him. He knew a lot.

He just didn’t know Flash’s name or what family Flash had or if those freckles ran all the way across Flash’s nose.

Danny would be patient though, because he understood. It helped that he at least had Flash’s number. He didn’t know if it was a burner phone or an app or routed through a number of proxies; he hadn’t asked. The first thing Danny had done, in fact, was to send a Flash meme. It had gotten him shoved, but that had turned into a make out session on the couch, so Danny certainly wasn’t complaining.

And if Danny now kept a collection of gifs, memes, and other silly Flash things on hand to send? Well, who could blame him.

He rolled over to grab his phone from the coffee table and sent off another picture of a cat dressed up in Flash’s outfit. The amount of people dressing pets up as superheros was honestly shocking. He didn’t expect an answer right then, looking at the time, but he found it was… nice to be able to find things to send to Flash for him to find and respond to later. It made him feel connected to someone in a way that he hadn’t had in years.

Danny recognized, now, that he had been really hurting himself trying to stay so separate from everyone. One way or another, this is how things would be for the rest of his life. He couldn’t keep morning what had happened, what he had lost. Besides, he was just a civilian now, he wasn’t a danger to his friends and family anymore. So, along with Flash, Danny had started actually accepting the occasional invitation from some of his coworkers. He had even found a game store to go to and play at on the weekends.

It was harder than he thought, putting himself out there again, but his life was brighter for being around people outside of work every week or so. He had Flash to thank for that.

He also had Flash to thank for getting him addicted to the Percy Jackson books. He could personally do with less lightning, but the story had a real way of resonating with the halfa. Danny was three books in at this point and needed to know how it all finished up.

A few chapters further in a notification interrupted him.

Quick Boy: It’s not fair that a cat wears my uniform better than me!!

Danny laughed and tapped the message.

Danny: The cat is pretty cute. But I still think you wear it best. You have a better butt. 😏

The little dots wiggled as Flash typed. It was endlessly amusing to Danny that despite being, literally, super fast, Flash was slowed down by the physics of the world around him, like how fast a phone could accept input.

Quick Boy: 😳🫣🥵 Danny! Have you been checking out my butt?

Despite himself, Danny felt a blush heating up his cheeks. They hadn’t gotten any further than kissing, it didn’t feel right to go further when Danny didn’t know who Flash was, but that didn't mean Danny couldn't tease.

Danny: You run around in spandex, I can’t NOT check out your butt. Have to say, it’s a pretty good one. 10/10, would ogle again.

Quick Boy: How do you feel about ogling it in my most flattering sweatpants? Got a hold of that Japanese giant bug movie you were ranting about. I can grab food and be over to your place in about an hour?

Danny: Stop calling it that!!!You know the title! 😤

Quick Boy: I’m not typing out that title.

Danny grinned as he rolled off of the couch. If Flash was coming over, he should at least pick up a little. Danny knew Flash didn’t really care, but the pile of laundry that Danny had been avoiding folding was a bit much.

Danny: Thought you were supposed to be fast.

Quick Boy: 😒

Danny: Come on, quick boy, take the nanosecond and type it.

Quick Boy: I hate you.

Danny: No you don't~

(Danny sung along as he typed.)

Quick Boy: “Help I’ve Been Made a Holy Knight in a World of Giant Bugs and Need to Save the Prince”

Danny: Knew you could do it! Proud of you. 😘 See you in an hour! Bring Thai and ice cream!

Danny was just putting away the folded stack of laundry when an alarm on his phone screamed at him.

It was work.

Emergency alert.

All hands on deck.

Danny dashed for his door, shoving his feet in his work boots and grabbing the backup vest he kept at home. Someone would drive the trucks full of kits there, but Danny still took his little kit with him, just in case he ran into any wounded on the way.

So much for dinner and cuddling his boyfriend.

As soon as he stepped out onto the street, Danny could hear the sound of sirens and the acrid smell of smoke stung his eyes. Danny’s heart sank.

Whatever this was, it was big.

“Danny.”

Danny flexed his hands. Flakes of dried blood broke off and scattered in the wind.

“Danny, babe.”

He would need more gloves for his kit. Was he out? He had to be out. He changed gloves so many times. There were so many people. He had to be out of gloves. He would need more for his kit.

Other hands entered his vision, covered in bright red. Not blood red, bright red. Blood red was mostly darker than people thought. Bright blood was worse. He watched as the hands gently rolled down the gloves.

He needed more gloves.

“Not for today, babe. You’re done for today.”

He needed more gloves, there were so many people.

“Everyone is accounted for. You and the others got everyone.”

Not everyone.

How many people died under his hands today?

Were already dead when he found them?

Wouldn’t last the night?

How many people did he fail?

Too many.

“Danny.” The voice was worried now. “Come on babe, look at me, please?”

Blood had gotten under his gloves, staining his wrists.

“Babe, please.”

Warm, fabric covered hands rested on Danny’s cheeks, tilting his gaze up and away from his hands.

Oh. “Flash?”

“Hey there, babe, you with me?”

Why did he look so worried?

“Because you’re scaring me a little. I think you’re in shock.”

Oh.

“Do you have a shock blanket in your kit still?”

“No… used them all. Had to cover…”

How many people did he fail?

“Okay, that’s okay. I’m going to take you home, okay babe? Well, not my home, but where I used to live— right, that doesn’t matter now. We’re going to go and I’ll keep you safe.”

Danny motioned to a cluster of officials. “I have to—”

“I’ve already checked you out.”

“My team?”

Flash glanced down and away.

“Flash, my team?”

“They’re…. all accounted for. Larson…. He got caught in part of the building coming down. He didn’t make it. Patel was paired with him. She’s at the hospital, they think she’ll pull through.”

Danny tried to say something, but the words caught in his throat. He wanted to scream, to rage, to wail— it all caught up in his throat because he couldn’t. He let out a soundless sob.

Flash pulled Danny into his arms, holding him close. “I know. I know. I’m taking you home. You’ll be okay Danny. It will be okay.”

The colors of the world blurred together as Flash ran, but Danny hardly noticed.

-----

AN: So this has been 95% written since before I got sick, but just now was the first time I could get my brain to deal with it. A darker part of the story, I know, but it felt needed. Danny's doing a very, very hard job and one made all the worse because Danny used to be able to do more and now he can't. (Though I have no doubt he pushed use of his powers further than was really safe in this.)

Stay safe and delightful, my darlings!

I no longer tag people for several reasons, you can subscribe to the masterpost instead to be notified! (May notify this part slightly later, I am queuing it.)

#dp x dc #danny fenton/wally west #quick death #abson

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reminiscingtonight · 5 months

Text

All's Fair In Love And War

Ana-Maria Crnogorčević x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

[WOSO Masterlist]

Sometimes long distance relationships have their perks.

You and Ana never get sick of each other. There’s so much time spent pining for the other through the screen of your phone that when you’re with each other personal space is not a thing that exists. Ana either has her arms around you, or you’re cuddled against her side, or she keeps your hand in hers when out with friends, but there’s never a moment you’re not touching.

Surprise gifts are also a thing. You love coming back from practice to find a package at your door, nothing to hint towards what’s inside until you open it on your kitchen counter. Ana likes sending you something whenever she thinks of you (spoiler: she thinks about you quite a lot) so you’re always finding sweet things sitting upon your doorstep.

And who could forget the sex? Let’s just say the time spent brewing all by your lonesomes really helps when the two of you find yourselves in the same vicinity again.

There are so many great things about being in a long distance relationship.

But sometimes they sucks.

Like now.

It all starts with your alarm not going off.

You only wake up when Alex calls you, waiting outside your house to drive you to practice. Half awake and still wishing you’re in bed, you hobble around your house, quickly trying to pull on your training top while packing your bag.

Alex gives you a sympathetic smile when you collapse into the passenger seat.

You mumble out a greeting, eyes dropping to your phone as you start the delayed act of going through your daily notifications. There’s a couple emails here, a few messages there… And it’s then that you see it.

Alex notices the way you stiffen, instantly rasping out a concerned, “Everything okay?”

You clench your jaw, eyes kept firmly glued to your screen. “Everything’s fine.”

Everything is not fine.

Like any good girlfriend you have Ana’s instagram notifications turned on. You pride yourself in always being one of the first to like and comment on her pictures, the only time it doesn’t happen is when a post goes up when you’re asleep. Like last night.

So you go to do your girlfriendly duties, heading straight to her profile to like her post. Only to stop. Because while you’re always a sucker for whatever Ana posts, even you have your limits.

And your limit?

Well Ana deciding to have a photoshoot in a leather jacket that quite honestly should be illegal is at the top of your no’s.

You’re not a jealous individual. Both you and Ana have learned to keep your cool, really the only way to survive a long distance relationship especially when your significant other is surrounded by so many attractive women at her job.

So no, you’re not mad because of Ana’s choice of material. No. This limit of yours all boils down to the fact that Ana’s over there on the opposite side of the world looking fine as hell while you’re stuck over here, not able to do a single thing about it.

The day goes too slow for your liking.

You’re itching to call your girlfriend all day, but a combination of your late start to the morning paired with a busy day at practice, you’re not able to find a moment of peace alone until lunchtime.

Alex gives you a knowing look when you sneak away between lunch and weight training.

“Good morning, my love,” Ana chirps when she picks up.

You ignore the fact that it’s not morning anymore, gritting out a stern, “Ana-Maria.”

You can practically hear Ana’s smile through the phone. “What’s wrong?” The words are cooed out as your girlfriend plays coy.

“Don’t ‘what’s wrong’ me, Ana. You know exactly what you did.”

“And what is it that I’ve done?”

“You’re just… you are… ugh, you’re just so hot! And so far away!” This time Ana bursts out into laughter, unable to hold it back anymore. Your words drop into a whine, foot stomping on the floor in an act of petulance. “Why did you have to post those photos when you know we won’t be seeing each other for a couple more weeks?”

“And what would you do if you saw me?”

You huff out an indignant breath, not believing that she would need you to spell it out for her. “Fuck you until you can’t walk. Or make you fuck me until I can’t.”

She barks out a sharp laugh, not expecting you to be so blunt about it. “All in due time, babe. All in due time.”

You drop your head against the wall, letting out a slow breath.

“I’ve got a surprise for you.”

You hum, annoyance bleeding away with each second that passes.

“You’ll have to wait until after practice though. It’ll be--”

“Waiting on my doorstep,” you sigh, finishing her sentence. “I miss you.”

And just like that, the two of you go from teasing each other to something more mushy. Because you do miss her. A lot.

Your promise of playing together some day in the future couldn’t come soon enough.

“I miss you too. Just hold on a little bit longer.”

When your eyes drift to the clock in the corner of the room, you sigh, knowing you’ll have to wrap this up soon.

“I love you. So much.”

“Love you too. Always and forever,” she murmurs.

---

It’s to no one’s surprise that you remain slightly distracted for the rest of the day.

Some of your teammates notice, subtly shooting concerned looks your way.

Alex plays the role of the best friend well, reassuring everyone that you’re just having an off day today.

It isn’t until you almost drop a weight on Abby’s foot that you decide you’re done for the day.

You and Alex drive home in silence. It’s not for the brunette’s lack of trying. She tries to bribe you with talks of her daughter, but even the topic of Charlie isn’t enough to raise your spirits.

“Okay, well you obviously have no soul if Charlie of all people can’t make you happy.”

You snort in response, not bothering to say anything in return.

“Though I spy something else that might help with that.”

You frown, looking up to see Alex pointing at something over your shoulder. You follow her finger through the passenger side window, eyes widening when you finally see what’s caught her eye.

Alex doesn’t even get a goodbye before you’re bolting out of the car.

There’s a familiar blonde smiling your way as you storm up your driveway. “Hi--”

Ana’s words are cut short when you get a firm grip on the front of her shirt, dragging her through the door after you. Ana stumbles, barely able to keep her balance as you yank her through the foyer and up the stairs.

Your bedroom door opens with a bang, and Ana’s quick to find herself dropping on her ass as you shove her onto your bed.

She licks at her lips when your hands drop to lift your shirt over your head, fully expecting you to make good on your earlier threat. Your eyes stay locked to hers as you slowly strip, making sure to tease this out as long as you can.

“Do you want to go firs--”

Ana blinks when you disappear the second the last piece of clothing hits the floor, bathroom door slamming shut in your wake.

“You better be naked by the time I’m done showering!”

After everything she’s put you through today, who’s to say you can’t have a bit of fun torturing Ana yourself?

After all, it’s all fair in love and war.

#ana maria crnogorcevic x reader #ana maria crnogorcevic imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #Ace writes

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lovejosephquinn · 11 months

Note

Imagine it’s like your third/fourth date with Joe and he decides to have the date at his so he can show off his mega cooking skills. Everything is so cute and fluffy and saccharine and then it’s the first time the two of you have sex. But it’s all adorable and sweet rather than the (wonderful) filth that you usually do!! I feel like I don’t see enough first time fics anymore :(

I GOT YOU. One fluffy fluffed up imagine just for you bestie 🥰

Under 18's DNI. Word Count: 3.5k

There was something different about Joe, the absolute charmer of a man that you had never witnessed before in anybody else. It was something you couldn't quite pin point and if you had one guess it would be that you had never been treated quite like the queen that others had told you that you oh so truly deserved.

It hadn't took long for Joe to break down the walls in which you had held up as much as you could from previous relationships, but he had it all, not just the looks that were an extreme bonus and you felt like you could jump him every time you saw him but also the persona he only really kept for people that was worth it, the whit and the chaotically beautiful and quite frankly funny yet brutally sweet and caring nature of him had shined through by the time your second date had come around.

Basically, to put it bluntly, he was your definition of perfect and it was something you couldn't possibly refuse to let go.

It was proving an impossible task to not fall in love with this human so quickly. It was cringeworthy to admit, but he was the first thing you thought about in a morning and the very last thing you dreamt about at night, it was a puzzle piece in your heart that was missing and he somehow completed it by walking into your life at the time he did.

Not to say you didn't meet the way most courting adults do nowadays, through the wonders of dreaded hooking up dating apps. You had felt like a teenager with a massive crush staying up until 4am the first time that you ever exchanged messages, talking for hours in pointless conversation, sharing memories and exchanging pleasantries and the general chit chat to get to know one another. You just clicked. What seemed too good to be true turned into texting every single day, calling each other when you both had a spare minute, sharing the occasional face time just to be able to say hello at the closest face to face you could finally get a chance to meet; and then it happened.

Date one: a simplistic meal at an authentic Italian restaurant, suited and booted, a grand first impression of a gentleman if any. Your first kiss. Sensual, slow and heartfelt.

Date two: Driving out to a lake which was situated around the lovely grounds of a valley, you held hands pretty much all the way around, giggling, sharing ice cream, feeding the ducks with over priced bread and laughing at Joe nearly falling in the water when he leaned to actually hand feed the duckling, resulting in him almost looking like a drowned rat and being branded an accidental murderer forever.

Date three: Another meal at a fancy five star French restaurant in the heart of London, followed by drinks in bars that Joe insisted he needed to take you to as they did the best martini's you'd ever tasted. He wasn't wrong, you fucking hated martinis until that night, maybe it was just a placebo due to the fact he enjoyed them, so you made yourself like them too, you had to impress him to right? You'd made out in the taxi all the way back to your flat, Joe dropped you off not insinuating that he wanted to take it any further as it was clear you both didn't want to rush something that was going so well and risk it failing over sleeping together too quickly.

Date four was tonight. You had arranged a quieter more casual meet this evening. Joe had shown great determination in getting you to his home to cook for you, vowing to you over and over that he was a way better chef than those of the restaurants you had eaten at together on dates in the past. Even though it was less formal affair, you still made yourself look presentable, sporting an oversized jumper dress with a more relaxed approach to stick to wearing trainers, it wasn't like you would have them on long anyway. Minimal make up and a nice up do, packing your over night bag as you had the bright idea that you would stay over the night so that you didn't have to rush through the time you had together; you could take your time.

You packed pyjamas, why? Because you didn't know how comfortable you would be to sleep in your underwear next to a male who you weren't sure would want to see such a thing. He's a man, of course he fucking would; but you didn't want to come across eager.

It was about a 25 minute drive to where you needed to be, you were still nervous to see Joe after already seeing so much of each other in the last few weeks, it was still fresh to you but you knew as soon as you were together, the comfortability would kick in pretty much when you arrived and shared your first glances.

When you got to the front door, it opened before your fist had even touched the object. You stood there with it mid air, a small wolf whistle followed by the sweetest smile, his sweetest smile, teeth and all. Joe of course was dressed to the nines, shirt and trousers but as you looked down to check the full variety of what you had to stare it, you noticed the cute pink socks sticking out like a sore thumb underneath the foot of his trousers. You couldn't help but snigger a giggle.

"Real men wear pink." Were his first words.

"And you're looking sincerely sexy in those pink socks Joe." You both chortled out a bark of laughter as Joe gestured for you to come through before closing the door behind you.

Once you were no longer in view of the public, you were met by Joe's hand clutching around your waist, bringing you in to close the space between your bodies. You leaned upward to receive a content little peck on the lips, your hands placed on his chest to keep you steady as you brought your feet back down fully to ground level.

"You look beautiful, darling." Joe cooed.

"Oh stop it." You patted his chest as he hummed a chuckle.

"Thank you would be a better answer." He tilted his head to one side, unknowingly surprised with you reaching to share a more intimate kiss this time. As you pulled back, Joe sighed almost peacefully, the way you did when you had butterflies flipping around your stomach. The feeling was definitely most mutual.

"Okay you win, that was a perfect response." Joe took your hand once you had rested them back to your side and brought you into the kitchen/dining area where he pulled out your seat for you. You thanked him as you looked around to see how classy he had set out the cutlery, a small plate, a dinner plate and a wine glass. A jug of water in the middle of the table in case you needed it at any point throughout the meal.

"Smells divine in here." You gazed around the messy kitchen, the sign of a good hearty meal being cooked as well as it could be showed that he was pulling out all of the stops.

"I hope you're hungry, I made a little too much pasta." Joe pressed his lips into a thin line, furrowing his brow and shrugging his shoulders slightly at you.

"I meant you, the food smells good too."

"Oh stop it." Joe mimicked you, covering his hand over his mouth in a pathetic and quite frankly over dramatic attempt to pretend he was embarrassed over your compliment.

Joe poured the wine into your glass, insisting that you taste it to make sure it was the one that you had said you liked beforehand. Great memory. Perfect for the pasta dish that you were about to consume. The indeed heavenly smell of prawn tagliatelle with various vegetables was dished out in front of you. You ate everything, even went in for seconds, it was a good job you didn't eat much today and you had to all intents and purposes starved yourself so that you would be ravenous by the time you had your dinner date.

Was this man ever wrong in his assumptions? Nope. He was a sensational cook, his mum had clearly taught him a lot and he was well trained in the kitchen, perfect as you were up for a dinner date like this every night for the rest of your life if this was the quality of food you would receive.

To top it all off, he had also prepared dessert, an affogato served with home made pistachio ice cream, an eye rolling, taste bud tingling way to finish off your meal indeed. You had polished off the wine too quickly for your liking, the combination of wine heated your cheeks along with the warmth of the house and also being sat across from Joe probably didn't help the matter.

You had retired to the living room after helping him clean up. Joe had insisted that you were his guest and wouldn't lift a finger but after a playful and most valid argument between you, Joe accepted your point of it would get done faster if you did it together. Putting on a movie seemed like the best option to end a solid ten out of ten evening together, a romantic comedy that you had seen at least thirty times in your life. You downed the last of your wine in your glass and set it in front of you on the coffee table, snuggling into Joe's side, he caught the hint pretty quickly and lifted his arm to let you sink into him further. His hand stroked the bare skin of your shoulder where your jumper had faltered a little, sending goose bumps raging their way through your skin.

It wasn't long until the movie was forgotten about, a deeply passionate kiss provoked by Joe himself. He had smoothly managed to push his finger tip toward your jaw, putting enough pressure to make you look up toward him where his free hand came to cup your cheek, bringing you forward to softly connect your lips together. You lifted yourself up with the help of Joe to sit yourself directly on his lap, tongues now involved as begged at your bottom lip for entrance. The kiss became intense, your fingers ran through his untamed curls which were soft and a little frizzy from the humidity of cooking whilst your other hand was wrapped in the chains around his neck, pulling him to be as close to you as possible. The dimmed lighting added to the voluptuousness and your whole body was screaming with desire to be touched in anyway he would dare to.

The kiss broke intermittently as you both panted for just that little bit to regain the oxygen your lungs had lost in the last few minutes.

"Shall we go get a little more comfortable, love?" Joe offered, stroking his thumb over your cheek giving you a smile that could heal the world.

"I'd love to." Joe kept you in his grasp, lifting himself up off of the sofa and you instantly obliged to wrap your legs around his waist. He carried you upstairs and into his bedroom, using his elbow to switch on the light before he slowly set you down on your back onto the foam mattress that you immediately thought was going to be a great nights sleep from the instant comfort you felt. Joe rested himself by the side of you, propped up on one elbow as his hand magnetised itself straight back to your cheek. He examined your features for a moment, staring through into your soul, your eyes following every muscle that worked in the doe eyes that sparkled towards you.

"Just to be clear you do want-" Joe whispered shyly, but before he could finish it was a response you didn't even have to think about.

"I do, I really do." He knew you were on the same page, his lips coming back to join yours in the most gratifying and pleasurable kiss. Electricity was shooting it's way down to your core, followed by anxiety that he may not like what he saw underneath your clothing.

You broke the kiss this time, pushing all doubts out of your mind as you sat up to remove your jumper dress, leaving yourself in your matching underwear, slowly looking up to witness his reaction.

It was very much worth it.

Joe's eyes had grown lustful, extremely excited to see you looking so vulnerable for him. Joe pushed his hands towards the back of your bra, stopping for a second to look at you for reassurance.

"May I?"

You giggled. "You may."

Joe touched you delicately like you were made of porcelain, not wanting to break you but at the same time really wanting to feel every ounce of you. He massaged your breasts in the palm of his hands, lightly pinching your nipples and gaining a whimper from the sensitivity that it caused.

"You like that, baby?" Baby. That was the first time he had called you that and you hoped it would not be the last.

A stifling yes was all you could manage, his touch riling you up good and proper as he laid you down back into an easier position to access so that his mouth could taste where his fingers had just influenced.

Soft moans were making the erection in Joe's trousers twitch as he worked his way down with unhurried yet deliberate little embracing kisses down your body. His hands following where his lips had just caressed until he was knelt down before you, placing your feet at the edge of the bed, reaching upward to slide your panties down and fully off. You were stark naked and his bush baby eyes had never shimmered brighter than they were, his jaw could of fell to the floor the way his mouth gaped open looking down at you.

"You're so fucking beautiful, I am so lucky." There was that sigh again, oh so delightful to observe.

Joe planted more kisses along your thighs before working his way towards your slit, guiding his hands to open it up so that he could start by licking a small stripe down to the base of you with the tip of his tongue. A louder moan escaped you this time.

"Relax darling, I want to make you feel so good."

When he got into a more focussed position, his hands reached for yours, intertwining your fingers together as you both gave a little reassuring squeeze to let each other know it was okay. His muscle massaged against your clit, making the muscles in your legs twinge each time he slipped it over a particular spot. He pressed succulent kisses against you with each taste, humming and breathing in the scent of you.

"That feels so good." You mewled.

"Mmm." Joe answered, he was in too deep for a truly more accurate reply.

His movements got a little faster and heavier against your bud, your body squirming around the sheets, your fingers pressing harder into his knuckles before he let one of your hands go, your instant reaction was to massage your boob and play with yourself a little. Joe surprised you by pushing a finger inside of you, the cold metal of his ring touching your entrance when the entirety of his digit made it's way up. He added another shortly, curling them upwards but keeping the pace gently measured to really make you feel even better than you could have ever imagined.

It all ended too quickly as Joe pushed himself away from you, ridding the contact from his fingers and wiping the back of his hand over his mouth to dry himself off.

"Why did you stop?"

"I can't take it anymore, I need to feel myself inside of you, you feel too good like this, god knows how you'll feel like that." Joe undressed himself and you watched his defined figure unravel before you, gawking from his neck down, not too toned but just right. His cock stood to attention, leaking pre-cum from being so heavily turned on from his time during his little cunninglingus fun. You were impressed with everything he had to offer, why wouldn't you be impressed with the sheer just above average size he was packing.

"You are perfect Quinn." You bit down onto your bottom lip, hypnotising him immediately with the way your eyes clung to his.

"No baby, that's you." BABY. BABY. B A B Y.

Joe lined himself up over you, not letting you move from your previous state, silently insisting that you relax whilst he continued to make you both feel incredible. He rubbed his cock between your slit, gaining some of his own spit and your slick to lube him up for easier access.

"Are you sure-"

"I'm sure, baby." It was your turn to mock him whimsically but he seemed to drink it in as you did, the pet name in particular. Joe pushed himself inside of you slowly, inch by inch filling you, your walls instantaneously clenching around him sending a ferocious groan straight from Joe's mouth.

"Just as I thought." He said.

You giggled a little too suddenly. "What?"

"Heavenly."

Joe began to rock his hips back and fourth into you, the girth alone sent your back arching as he leant down, the muscles in his arms flexing to keep him hovering above you, his chains dangling around your chin as he thrusted back and fourth. Sharp breathes and the heat of passion were strong between the two of you, a rush of new found energy had you both singing each other's names like a prayer. The movements were sloppy yet so eager, fiery yet heartfelt. You looked into each others eyes with promise and sensibility. If you weren't mistaken, the look of love. Too lost in your thoughts, you were brought back down to the present to see Joe's lips moving, your hearing came back into play once you had stopped being so caught in your brain.

"You okay?" He asked.

"Never better."

"Did you hear what I said?" Joe pushed into you a little harder this time making you gasp.

"Evidently not." You breathed out a distorted moan followed by a chuckle.

"Be mine." Joe repeated himself hoping that you heard him loud and clear this time.

"I already am." You smiled as soon as he did, his lips crashed against yours, your heavily beautiful kiss moving in time with that of his hips, stopping sporadically to take a breath or to get out the breathless whimpers you needed to let escape.

The knot snapped inside your stomach when he hit one final thrust, sending you both over the edge together. Your bodies tingling from head to toe, the sensation you wished would last a lifetime and more from the stimulation and pure feeling you were eating up at this very moment.

"That was-" Joe was left stuttering so much that he had to pause.

"Amazing?" You finished.

"Exactly." Joe leaned down to kiss you one last time before pulling out, your orgasms rid to their full potential, it had made it all the more zealous to have reached your peaks together.

You ran to the bathroom to flush out what you needed to, cleaning yourselves up before returning to Joe's bed, the pyjamas long forgotten about that you had packed, a comforting thought that you now would be able to sleep skin to skin, happy and tranquil. Joe rushed downstairs to turn the tv off, not long after returning and making a huge leap towards the bed to which you jumped out of your skin when you realised he was almost about to crush you the same way he could have done the duckling on your second date.

It was all laughter and mind numbing chatter for the rest of the night, you laid in Joe's arms, your ear just resting above his heart which beat steady and relaxed.

"You meant it?" Joe mentioned and you looked up at him dazed and confused in your exhausted state.

"Meant what?" You asked.

"That you were mine." Joe looked deeply into your eyes, looking for the answers before you spoke them.

"Always."

"Perfect." Joe planted a kiss onto your forehead, his fingers making light work stroking up and down the top of your back.

"That's you." You nestled your face into his chest.

"Sweet dreams then, my darling girl."

You laid in the same position until the sun rose and the light dimmed it's way through the corners of Joe's curtains. A new day had never felt so good, especially beginning it in the arms of your man. Perfect.

#joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn angst #joseph quinn #joseph quinn imagine #joe quinn smut #joe quinn x reader

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yuna542 · 1 year

Text

Connected (OT8 x reader)

Part 2 <-

Part 3

Pairing: Chan x Reader + hardcore Felix Fluff

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: big Fluff, Suggestive stuff

Word Count: 2.8k

Note: So I‘m getting into tumblr and learn every few seconds new stuff. Still confused btw. So here we go with an other Part. Have fun! Who doesn‘t love a good slow burn?

On your first day of your new job as the personal manager of Stray Kids, you didn't expect to be standing in front of the man you made out with last night in a club. But it soon becomes clear that the Stray Kids don't just want you as their manager.

Will this passionate arrangement end your career?

The months flew by and you had learned more in a very short time than ever before in your life.

It turned out that you had a hidden talent for the job. You were able to remember all the dates, appointments and important facts without any problems, got to know important contacts in no time and soon knew every detail about the history of Stray Kids.

In the first few months the guys helped you extremely to immerse yourself in the K-Pop world and even though it was very different from the media world in America, your experience helped immensely. Your contacts around the world were also an advantage for JYP Entertainment. Especially when it came to planning future projects and concerts abroad.

It didn't take long for a friendly relationship to develop between you and the kids. It was unavoidable, after all you were the same age and the boys were so charming that it couldn't leave anyone distant. They did not attach importance to a professional relationship and loved it just to have fun and tease each other all the time.

Each one had his own charm and you admired not only their talent, but also their enormous amount of work and drive they put into every little detail of their career.

You quickly realized that they were like brothers to each other as well, and especially through Chan, you got to know many stories from their trainee-days.

The night at the club has remained unmentioned ever since. As if it had never happened, but you couldn't stop the memories from playing like a movie in front of your inner eye when Chan came into your office with a warm smile, when he stretched out on the sofa in the studio, or when he kept looking at you to see if you liked his concepts for new songs.

To be honest, you had already become a huge fan of their music in the first few days and the fact that they produced everything themselves was even more impressive.

Chan still went out of his way to make you feel welcome and although it was your job to make sure everything went smoothly and without a hitch for the guys, it was him who was constantly concerned about your well-being.

It was Monday morning when you walked into your office with your eyes on the schedule for today. You set the Ipad down on your desk and sighed because of the huge amount of work, that heads in-front of you. The Comeback of Straykids was planned to take place in a few month and you would have to get a lot of thing done, before that could happen. When you lifted your eyes, you couldn't help but grin.

Like every morning, there was a steaming mug of coffee on your desk.

It had started when Felix had seemingly casually asked how you liked your coffee best.

Chan had been sitting at his laptop with thick headphones on his ears. Which is exactly why you were even more surprised when there had been a matcha latte macchiato on your table the next morning and Chan was the only one already in the building.

It was always like that. The leader was the first one in the studio early in the morning and usually the last one to leave. You were sure by now that he often didn't even go home at all.

Just as you took a sip of the hot coffee, a message popped up on your phone.

"The song is ready. Wanna hear it first?"

Immediately, you jumped up and ran to Chan in the studio. He was sitting in his chair and turned to you when you walked in.

He had a mug of black coffee in front of him as well, and smiled broadly when he saw the mug he bought you in your hand.

"Good morning, beautiful", he chirped.

"Morning, Channie. Already working?", you asked and he nodded sleepy.

"I also tried the one with matcha powder today because you're so excited about it“, he said as you dropped down on the sofa behind him.

"So?", you asked eagerly, clasping the warm cup with both hands.

Along the way, you slipped off your black pumps and pulled your legs up to get comfortable on the sofa. When it was just you and the boys, nothing felt like work and they had made sure you could completely relax in their presence.

It was nice to see that they trusted you too and were themselves when you are together.

Chan scrunched his nose and turned all the way around to face you.

"It tastes horrible. How can you drink that?"

You furrowed your eyebrows and pointed at his half-empty cup.

"That didn't stop you from drinking it!"

"Caffeine is caffeine.“

Chan leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head.

As he did, you looked at him properly for the first time today. His hair was curly and a complete mess. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked exhausted.

Your eyes wandered over the empty ramen cups and water bottles that were all over his desk.

"Channie, have you been here all night again?", you asked cautiously, setting the cup down on the table.

He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and yawned in confirmation.

"Jisung sent me his part yesterday and it took me all night to revise the track. But now it's finished."

Worried you pressed your lips together and sighed.

"I know! Don't look at me like that and don't say it! Please."

But you said it anyway:

"Chan, you need to sleep more and take a break too!"

„It's funny, that you say that“, he muttered when he had already turned back to his screen.

"Excuse me?", you asked, and he glanced over his shoulder.

"You didn't get out of your office until midnight last night. You think I wouldn‘t notice?"

"Are you stalking me, you creep?"

He couldn't hold back his laughter now and clicked on a file on his laptop.

"You wish. You would like that, huh?"

Now you had to laugh, too.

"Really charming."

He winked cheekily at you over his shoulder and his courser hovered over the play button for what seemed like an eternity now.

"What's on the schedule today?", he asked after a few seconds, and that's when you couldn't help but grab a pillow and throw it at his head.

"Stop stalling for time! If you don't show me the song right now, I'm going to kill you! Seriously Chris!“

He knew that if you said his name like that again he could not refuse you a single wish. Chan put the pillow in his lap and squinted his eyes as he finally started the song.

You couldn't understand why he always were so nervous before he showed you some of his work. He and the other guys were real geniuses when it came to creating music out of thin air.

The beat was fast but melodic and when the first rap part of Changbin started, you were already excited.

The hook was already catchy after the second repetition and every single line was again something special.

By the time the song was over, Chan had pressed the pillow against his face as if he couldn't stand your reaction.

It was cute that he seemed to care so much about your opinion, even though millions of people loved what he created.

Carefully, he lowered the pillow and looked at you in fear.

"What do you think?", he asked, and you leaned back on the couch.

"Please be honest!"

Briefly, you paused and looked at him. His hopeful face was so cute that you had to look at the floor to keep from staring.

"It's okay", you replied, crossing your arms unimpressed.

Chan looked like he was going to cry at any moment and gripped the pillow so tightly that his knuckles stood out white.

"Okay?", he repeated back to you, and you immediately felt sorry for him as he looked disappointedly at his screen, as if he could figure out the mistake that way.

"Maybe I should have arranged the first part differently.... If I..."

At that point, you couldn't take it anymore and started to bursted out laughing. Without understanding, he looked at you again.

"I'm just messing with you! This song is amazing. I want to hear it again."

Chan now looked completely confused and didn't quite realize what you were saying yet. He was clearly too tired and you felt guilty for playing with his emotions like that.

At least until the corners of his mouth lifted dangerously.

"You really are unbelievable...", he muttered and you tried to avoid grinning like an idiot.

"Are you serious? You like it?"

"Yes. This is really extremely good, Chan! Can we hear it again?"

"For you to play with my feelings like that..."

Now he finally seemed to believe you, but before you could get to safety, he had jumped up out of his chair and tossed the pillow aside. A challenging glint entered his eyes and you got goosebumps right away.

"What are you up to?", you asked, looking up at him in intimidation.

"You almost broke my heart! You'll get that back!", he said, grinning like a menace. Wide-eyed, you slid back, but he was already leaning over you, pinching your sides.

You tried to fight off his hands, but since you were way too ticklish and he was much stronger, you just squirmed under him giggling and already had tears in your eyes.

Seungmin had found out by accident that you were extremely ticklish when he had teased you and lightly pinched your side. You had let out a squeak that silenced even Han's torrent of words. Since then, Chan and Han especially liked to take advantage of that.

"Stop it, please!", you pleaded, chuckling and pressing your back harder into the back of the sofa, but Chan was clearly enjoying your suffering and grinning wickedly.

"Then apologize!" he said, pinching your side again.

You gasped with laughter and shook your head.

"No way!"

"Then I won't stop."

Desperately, you grabbed his wrist and actually managed to pull him off his feet with one tug. What you didn't consider was that he was now falling on top of you.

At the last moment he caught himself next to your head and you stared at each other, startled.

Your heart hammered wildly in your chest as now suddenly his lips hovered just a finger's width in front of yours, his body was tight against yours and you felt the fabric of his pants against your inner thighs.

His eyes also wandered aimlessly through your face until they lingered on your lips.

Your breath stopped and you had to think again about that night at the club when you both didn't know who the other was.

Your hand was still grabbing his wrist and even though he had been working all night, he smelled like soap and woodsy perfume.

"Chan“, was the only thing you managed to say as his breath bounced against your lips. A Deja-vu rolled over you and he probably felt the same way. His chest was pressed against yours, so you could feel his heartbeat racing.

Then suddenly the door handle was pushed down and you scattered apart as fast as startled pigeons.

Your heart was pounding in your ears and you tugged your skirt back into place, which had slipped all the way up your legs.

Changbin was standing in the middle of the room, looking back and forth between Chan and you in confusion because of the strange silence.

Chan, meanwhile, was sitting back in his chair, his face pale as if he had seen a ghost.

"Am I interrupting something?", Changbin asked, and you both shook your heads vehemently.

"No! Not at all!", you quickly said and grabbed your coffee to give your nervous hands something to do.

Shortly after Changbin, Jisung, Hyunjin and Jeongin also arrived, they listened to the finished song as well, meanwhile you remained silent, trying to find a explanation for what had almost happened just then.

If Changbin hadn't interrupted you, what would have happened? This time you had been sober, and yet it had just happened.

It wasn't supposed to happen. After all, you were working for Chan. JYP himself would kill each of you if they would know just a bit of what had happened and even more if they knew about the unholy thoughts wandering around your head.

At some point, you felt a hand brush your knee and looked into Hyunjin's worried eyes.

"Are you all right?", he asked quietly.

Briefly, you looked to Chan, who was discussing another song with Jisung and Jeongin. Your eyes met for a moment, but you quickly looked away and put on a carefree smile.

"It's all right, Jinnie! I'm just a little tired."

Hyunjin frowned and looked less than convinced. To reassure him, you put a hand on his and squeezed it gently.

Glancing at your phone, you stood up and that's when the conversation in the room fell silent.

"I need to get back to work. Chan will you send me the finished song so we can work on the concept?", you asked monotonously.

Chan nodded curtly.

"Sure."

The tension in the air was thick and the others looked back and forth between you two in confusion. Then you left the room and, to your good fortune, your phone rang.

Thanks to talking to the choreographer about the new dances for the comeback, you were able to distract yourself for quite a while.

Later that day, there was a knock on your door. You looked up from the email you were writing to one of the makeup artists who was up for selection to come on tour with the kids.

Felix waved in greeting, putting a smile right on your face.

"Hey," he said, standing in front of the table.

"Hey, Lix," you mumbled tiredly, brushing the hair out of your face.

"Hyunjin told me you behaved a little weird earlier. Are you okay?"

You closed your eyes for a moment and smiled. Hyunjin and Felix could both sense from miles away when something was wrong. It was always remarkable how observant they both were of the people surrounding them.

"I'm just tired."

"Then take a break! We ordered food and we all want to relax together in the practice room. Come on, it'll be fun!"

"I know what you're trying to do. But I really have a lot to do."

"You're always making sure I don't overwork myself and that it doesn't get too much for me. Now I want to take care of you. You need a break too!"

When you made no move to get up, he came around the table and took your hands in his. Gently he pulled you to your feet and wrapped his arms around your waist to hug you tightly.

Oddly enough, that was exactly what you had needed just then. Felix's body heat and pleasant scent allowed you to breathe a sigh of relief at that moment, and you no longer felt as crushed as you had all day.

He rested his chin on your shoulder as you returned the hug and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"You don't have to say what's wrong. We just want you to feel better“, he murmured empathetically, stroking his hands over your back. His touch was so intimate, yet full of respect, that it took your breath away. As before with Chan, you simply felt comfortable in Felix's arms. As you break away from him with a heavy sigh, you continue to keep your arms wrapped around his neck. He also continues to hold you by the waist and only through this you feel upright again. His eyes look warmly at you and a gentle smile spreads across your lips.

"Thank you, Lixie. I needed that."

"I know."

His empathy was from another world. It was comfortable to be so close to him, tightly pressed at each other and your faces just a hand's width apart. His eyes began to roam over your face as his hands stroked up your sides a little.

"You're very important to me...to us“, he said in his deep voice, which immediately caused a flutter in your stomach.

In response, you gave him a kiss on the cheek, which made him freeze. It had happened simply because you could not express in words your gratitude for him. It was just a quick kiss, but Felix's body was suddenly tense. He had to swallow as his gaze wandered down and caught at your cleavage. He quickly stared at your face, caught, and his cheeks turned rosy. With a clearing of his throat, he carefully let go of you.

"Are you coming with me?"

With a warm feeling in your stomach, you finally nodded.

"Only if there's sushi!"

Relieved, he laughed and took your hand.

"Anything you want.“

His fingers intertwined with yours and he pulled you with him.

->Part 4

———————————————————————————© Yuna542 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

Taglist (open):

@hgema @bookwyrm28

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ladykailitha · 1 year

Text

Do You Know What Shovels Dig? Graves Part 6

And this is it. The last part of a short little idea that kept me up all night that turned into this beautiful story that is one of my favorite stories I’ve written.

WIP Wednesday allowed me to finish this up for you before I went to bed. I got a job that I will be starting on Monday which will slow my writing down some, but I will still try to keep up on the stories I have. I love writing these stories for you guys and wish I could make it my job. But alas, capitalism.

Also this is for all the people that wished to see what the Corroded Coffin boys would say and for all the people that wanted to have Erica actually apologize. I was like “if you guys can get her to apologize, great, because I couldn’t!” But then I realized that there was someone who could get her to apologize. Robin. So here you go.

Thanks to that anon for the barbecue idea. That’s here too.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

After Max, Lucas, and Erica had gone, Steve sat with Eddie, El, and the Byers boys.

“I think all in all,” Eddie began, “those were some pretty good apologies.”

The other three nodded.

Steve sighed. “It doesn’t change the fact that it took an actual honest to god intervention to get them realize they were wrong.”

“No it doesn’t,” El said. “Which is why I told them that they’ve been grounded from Steve for two weeks.”

“Uh...” Eddie said, “what now?”

“It means,” Will explained. “That if they want to hang out with him they have to do on his terms, not theirs. No begging for rides, no stopping by for food and then bailing, and just no taking advantage of Steve.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks, guys. I mean it. It was nice knowing that there were people that weren’t going to threaten me and took this whole seriously.” He gave Jonathan’s knee a squeeze. “I’m not sure what would have happened if you hadn’t stopped by. But I’m really glad you did.”

Jonathan squeezed his shoulder in response. “Me, too. I hope they learned their lesson.”

“That is the hope,” Will said.

Steve scratched his cheek. “Why don’t we have barbecue at your guys’s place after the two weeks and see how they fair?”

Will brightened. “I like that idea. That way if they are still having problems we can talk to them about it.”

“Do you think your mom will go for it?” Eddie asked.

Jonathan grinned. “Hell yeah, she would. She’s been wanting to show off her new house to everyone for awhile now.”

El grinned too. “We have a plan, then!”

Steve was pleased to see that the Party actually started to make actual changes in how they treated him.

Lucas invited him out to play basketball at the rec center and biked himself there. Steve offered him a ride home after, which he happily took as they were both sweating afterwards.

Dustin made sure that Steve knew he was joking when he was making comments. And Steve made sure to snark right back unless it really bothered him and then they would talk about it.

Robin and he had a longer talk about the gay vs bisexual thing. She admitted that she had been wrong to assume that because Steve was bisexual that it would be Eddie getting his heartbroken and not Steve. She had some ingrained biases that she had to get over and was really sorry she didn’t have his back when he needed her to.

There were a lot of little changes but the final major change came a couple days after the intervention when Jeff, Gareth, and Brian all walked into Family Video together to properly apologize to Steve.

“Hey, Buckley,” Jeff said, “can you give us some space?”

Robin straightened her spine and wiggled her shoulders. “Steve has had apology monitors to ensure that it’s an actual apology, and as Eddie or Will or Jonathan aren’t here, it’s going to have to be me.”

Steve laughed and shook his head. “Apparently there are certain people who think I’m too nice,” he explained to the other boys, “and let people get away things that I shouldn’t so they took it upon themselves to be my guard dogs to make sure it’s an actual apology.”

“Have they met you?” Gareth asked, incredulous. “You’re the original bitch.”

Steve laughed again. “Who let Tommy and Carol walk all over me. I tend to roll over for friends.”

They blinked and then nodded.

“Yeah, okay,” Brian said. “That tracks.”

Steve just smiled. “So how can I help you fine gentleman today? May I interest you our latest releases?”

That got a couple chuckles out of them.

“No, man,” Jeff said, “we’re here to talk about the whole shovel talk shit.”

Steve leaned against the counter and folded his arms. “You do know I don’t fault you guys for that, right? You guys are Eddie’s best friends. I didn’t really fault Wayne, either. But the execution of that one...” he winced when Robin gasped. “Poor choice of words, sorry.”

“What he do?” Jeff asked.

“Borrowed Chief Hopper’s shotgun and cleaned while we talked,” Steve said with a grimace.

“That ain’t right...” Brian said, shaking his head.

Gareth looked at Jeff and then back to Steve. “Yeah, but here’s the thing about our shovel talk...”

“It wasn’t necessary,” Jeff finished for him. “We’ve had time to get to know you before you and Eddie started dating. We knew that you two would do anything for each other even without being a couple.”

Brian nodded. “It’s just...something we thought best friends did. The whole ‘break his heart, we’ll break your knees’ kind of thing.”

Robin looked down at her feet and cleared her throat.

Jeff sighed dramatically. “Please tell me she wasn’t one of the ones that gave you the shovel talk. Because that’s messed up, man.”

Steve looked over at her and then back up to Jeff. “Yeah, she knows.”

“By the way,” Gareth said, waving his hands, “Eddie doesn’t know we’re here. So I don’t want thinking this is a forced apology or anything.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

Brian cleared his throat. “I mean he did threaten to kill off our characters if we were mean to you, but he didn’t tell us to apologize or anything.”

Steve laughed. “That sounds more like the Eddie we all know and love.”

“But we would have come anyway,” Jeff said. “Because our shovel talk added to a heaping pile of bullshit that you didn’t need. And definitely didn’t deserve.”

“So this is us saying we’re sorry that everyone you knew decided that you were going to break Eddie’s heart,” Gareth said. “And that we made you feel like you weren’t worthy of dating Eddie. Because you are, man. Like seriously the only guy Eddie’s brought around that we actually want to be friends with.”

“Hell yeah,” Brian said. “You’re so cool and you love to take care everyone. We’d want you to stick around because we like you, too.”

Steve’s eyes blurred and he cleared his throat. “Thanks, guys. It means a lot to hear you say that.”

They all came up and gave Steve a hug, blocking him from outside viewers so he could cry. Once they were sure he was going to be okay, they let him go.

They said their goodbyes and walked out, leaving behind a stunned Robin and grateful Steve.

Just before the barbecue started Robin brought over Erica to Steve by holding her ear.

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” Erica was yelling as she was half dragged over to him.

Robin sat her down and said, “I learned that this little hobgoblin didn’t properly apologize for her shovel talk. And Eddie let her get away with it.”

“God, what’s your problem?” Erica huffed up at Robin. “They understood. Why can’t you?”

Robin grinned. “Green ooze, little girl. Green ooze.”

Erica’s jaw snapped shut. If Sherlock Holmes had his phrase for humbling him when he got too proud, this was Erica’s. She was going to drink it before it turned out to be acid. Like literal acid.

She turned to Steve. “Shovel talks aren’t right and no one should be giving anyone shovel talks because it’s a pointless exercise in latent hostility. So I’m sorry I contributed to an archaic practice used by bullies and abusers. I won’t do it ever again.”

Erica looked up at Robin, who gave her the thumbs up. Erica hopped up and ran off to play.

Steve blinked up at Robin in shock. “Like how the hell did you manage that?”

Robin just batted her eyelashes and said nothing, walking away with a whistle on her lips and a swagger in her step.

Eddie came up to him in shock. “Did I just witness an actual apology from Lady Applejack?”

Steve nodded mutely.

“I think I’m more afraid of Robin, now,” Eddie muttered and Steve could only agree.

Eddie was starting to see a trend. One that made him laugh the third time it happened.

The first, though? Claudia Henderson.

“Eddie!” she greeted warmly. “I haven’t seen you around much. How have you been?”

Eddie smiled at her. Even before the Upside Down, Claudia was one Eddie’s favorite people. She was bright and happy and loved her wacky son with all her heart. Something that Eddie could absolutely get behind. “I’ve just been busy. But name the date, and I’ll be there.”

She smiled back. “That’s sweet, dear. You know you have an open invitation. But why don’t you and your uncle come over for Sunday dinner. Steve has already said yes for himself.”

“Sounds great, Mrs Henderson,” Eddie agreed.

“How are you and Steve?” she asked gently. “Dusty was telling me that Steve hadn’t been doing well lately.”

“We’re good,” Eddie said bobbing his head. “Things got a little rough a couple weeks back, but we’re on firmer ground now.”

She patted his cheek. “You really need to be taking better care of that boy. He looks tough on the outside, but he needs someone who can take care of him, yeah?”

Eddie smiled. “Of course. Taking extra good care of our Stevie is my number one priority.”

She nodded and went to go make sure Dusty was eating enough.

The next one was Karen Wheeler of all people. Ted was suspiciously but expectedly absent. She came up to Eddie and introduced herself.

“You must be Eddie!” she said with smile that reminded him of that Dustin Hoffman film.

“Oh hello,” he replied a little confused.

“Nancy has told me all about you,” Karen said with that same smile. “She’s always going on about how Steve finally found the person he was meant to be with and what a great person you are.”

Eddie smiled back. “Nancy’s a great girl.”

She sighed a little, her smile turning into something a little more genuine. “I miss having Steve over. Jonathan is great boy for my Nance, but Steve sparkled where Jonathan only shines.”

“I won’t argue with you on that one,” Eddie said. “But then Jonathan isn’t my type.”

She swatted at him playfully. “All I’m trying to say if that Steve is a good boy and deserves only the best. So you’ll take good care of him, won’t you?” It was sweet and sincere, but a hint of steel. And suddenly Eddie knew where Nancy got her backbone of steel from.

“Always,” Eddie promised, hand over heart.

“See that you do,” Karen said and wandered off to compare brownie recipes with Joyce.

The third was a squirrelly looking balding guy with thick glasses and far too knowing stare. He had come with Chief Hopper and had spent most of the night watching Eddie. He had asked Nancy who he was and she said his name was Murray Bauman and he was a conspiracy theorist. Which really didn’t clear anything up for him, but this rag-tag group of rebels and fighters were all a little weird.

He wandered over to Eddie and looked him up and down. He said in a clear voice, “I have seen things you wouldn’t believe, I’ve done things that would make your hair curl on end,” he stopped for a moment, “make it curlier and I know where the bodies are hidden. If you hurt Steve, you’ll be the next one.”

“Murray!” Hopper yelled. “What the hell was that? Why would you say that?”

Murray blinked at Hopper and then tilted his head. “Because we love Steve?” He says long and slow like he’s talking to a stupid person.

Eddie burst out laughing.

“No, no,” he said between giggles. “It’s fine Hopper. It’s all fine!”

Murray looked him over again and then nodded. “Yes, you’ll do.” And then he wandered off back into the house as if he had done what he had come to do.

A few minutes later Steve came up and sat next to Eddie. “I’m sorry, I don’t even know what that was.”

Eddie giggled and bumped their shoulders together. “It’s fine, sweetheart. It’s actually kinda adorable.”

Steve frowned. “What is?”

“That it’s the moms plus Murray here,” Eddie said jerking his chin in the direction Murray had wandered off to, “that are the most protective of you. Both Mrs Wheeler and Henderson have told me under no certain terms am I allowed to hurt you and that I’m supposed to take care of you.”

Steve blinked and searched the crowd for Claudia first. She spotted him looking at her and she waved at him. Steve smiled and waved back. Then he searched for Karen. She didn’t look at him directly, but merely winked and went back to talking to Wayne about something he couldn’t quite hear.

“Oh.”

“But don’t you worry, darlin’,” Eddie purred. “I’m gonna take very good care of you.”

Steve kissed him, slow and deep. “And I will always take care of you, Eds.”

“Perfect.”

It really was.

***

Tag List: @justforthedead89 @zerokrox-blog @ihavekidneys @didntwant2come @thelittleclare @liorereshkigal @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @telidina @stevesbipanic @paintsplatteredandimperfect @a-little-unsteddie @jonesn4coffee @resident-gay-bitch @obliosworld @croatoan-like-its-hot @evix-syne666 @emly03 @wonderland-girl143-blog @bookworm0690 @mysticcrownshipper @i-must-potato @pnk-lemonades

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #jonathan and steve are friends #ladykailtiha writes

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0kayblue · 1 year

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Need You

You and Leon have been a little more than friends with benefits for awhile and he struggles with what he wants it to be.

Word count: 3k (almost 4)

Mentions of alcohol, slightly possessive Leon, over protective Leon, angst, fluff (??kinda??), happy ending, not proofread very well if it all.

A/N: HELLO!! How are you all doing? Good I hope. I’ve been gone for more than a hot minute. It took me a lot longer than what I thought it would to get back into the groove of things. With that being said, this is not that great. Kinda boring, but hey, sometimes things are boring. This is just kind of to get me in the groove of uploading and writing again.

Part three and request are in the works. They are coming!! I just need a little practice before I start actually going at it again.

With all my heart, I hope you are having a fantastic day!! Enjoy!!

Time had never moved so slow as Leon anxiously bounced his leg underneath the cheap break room table. His tired eyes glanced to the clock and then back down to the untouched styrofoam cup of coffee.

Leon hated a lot of things about his job, but at this moment debriefing was his least favorite. He detested having to explain everything that happened on missions before he officially had time to process how they happened to him. Not that he ever truly enjoyed thinking about the things he had to do in order to survive, but he liked to have an understanding on why he did this or that. Why he chose to go left instead of right.

He had just spent nearly three days fighting his way through the deep Rocky Mountains; B.O.W’s at every turn, and he didn’t even get the information he was expected to return with. The whole thing was a waste of his damn time. He was sent to follow a lead that only set the operation two steps back and whatever up and coming supervillain, or want to be Umbrella Corporation, or extremist cult one leap forward. All while defense was wounded and information scrounged for a thread to pull to loosen the seam on the shit show they were currently trying to clean up.

He was annoyed and beyond frustrated with everything. On top of the emotional stress he also was not in the best shape physically- it wasn’t anything major all things considered- but, broken ribs, internal bruising and external bruising causing almost his whole torso to be a deep purple almost gray hue, and the bandaged up gashes on his limbs and slight cuts on his face only kept adding straws to the camel's back. He felt like it was only a matter of time before he snapped, he felt like he could only sit here for a few seconds more before he stormed out the door and out of this damn stale sterile building that was too clean.

He took a deep breath before adjusting himself to sit up straight in the deep blue plastic chair. As he exhaled he closed his eyes and saw the face he’s seen behind his eyelids since he landed, desperate to see it in person. To touch the soft warm flesh of someone he could never get enough of, regardless of the fact that he tried so hard not to get addicted to. Each hit of you more potent than the last, each high allowing him to forget for a little longer, each graze of his skin against yours permitting him to daydream of a life he has always ached for. Even if you didn’t long for the same things he did, he saw you with everything he had ever wanted. It was cruel and yet he continued to do it to himself.

He had bought you a burner phone with his number and his alone. You were not to use the phone for anything other than to communicate with him. He had asked you to carry it with you at all times, lying and saying he didn’t bug it. He told you that with his line of work that it would make your meetings more secure, that it would keep you off the radar. In a lapse of poor judgment you took the phone and him up on his proposal to make him an official fuck buddy. Who could blame you? It was a scene straight out of a movie and boosted your ego. It made you feel special that someone so important took such an interest in someone like you. Someone who lived such an exhaustingly normal life. It kept you on cloud nine for at least a week and a half after receiving it.

It was a purely physical relationship that didn’t require any emotional attachment regardless of the deep emotions that sunk into the both of you too quickly for comfort. Each rendezvous lasted longer than the previous one. Him staying at your place for days, while you both interacted like domesticated adults. Not quite like a married couple, not as casual as friends, and nowhere near as uptight as roommates; it was such an odd relationship, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Oftentimes by the end of his stay he left you with more questions than answers. Your knowledge of his life was barley skin deep and you were left to piece it together from fragments he dropped you.

He on the other hand knew everything about you. He couldn’t help himself. All your information was at his fingertips; your past, your present, and a vague idea of your future. In hindsight he should have left it alone and maybe if he did he wouldn’t be stuck in this current predicament. Maybe wouldn’t be digging in his pocket for the phone that held only one contact number, a phone number that he had memorized even though he shouldn’t have. He leaned forward in the chair as he typed only two words.

‘Need you.’

He didn’t think about the impact they could have, he didn’t think of the weight they carried, he just sent the message. Not a part of him even considering the fact that you would think it was the truth. He needed you. Rather you are below him or watching some low brow television show that networks pumped out to dumb down the population. He just needed you within reach, he needed the comfort of your presence to ease the buzzing of the world he lived in.

He sat the phone on the table as he crossed his arms and sat back, anxiously awaiting a reply. He didn’t get a chance to glance at the clock before the phone buzzed against the table.

‘Busy.’

The message read and he couldn’t help but to scoff as his hand ran through freshly washed damp hair.

‘With what?’

He asked in his reply as he sent it. His jaw tightening in annoyed agitation. What part of need did you not understand? He took a deep breath and reminded himself of the nature of the relationship. As he went to follow up his demanding question with a meeting time and place the break room door opened and he shoved the phone back into his pocket.

“Mr.Kennedy,” A rather thin man with tired eyes and a disheveled navy blue suit sighed out, “I’m sorry, we know you are exhausted, we just have a few more questions. Can you stay for another thirty minutes? No more, no less.”

Leon forced a polite smile as he stood, “Lead the way.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Kennedy.”

“Please, call me Leon.” Leon insisted as he took the door from the man and just like that he followed the man down the hall and into an elevator; leaving behind a hot cup of coffee to grow cold on a cheap linoleum covered piece of wood where it would eventually be washed down the drain by night janitorial staff.

It had been an hour since Leon set foot in that room and not much of anything had come out of his answers. He was out of the building now and almost free as his hand found the handle of his car door, but a buzz in his pants pocket caused him to let go of it immediately. As he unlocked the phone he noticed he was left with a voice memo and not a message, which he found odd but not alarming. He couldn’t help but to smile, ready to hear your voice. He pressed play and heard the hustling of feet and an unrecognizable song in the background.

“She said she was busy, Le-on. Take a hint.”

A low masculine voice came out of the speaker as he gripped the phone. He pulled it away from his ear with a snarl as he looked at the phone screen. It took every fiber of his being to not shatter the phone right there; it took every remaining ounce of sanity that he had to not let this red hot anger consume him. This little voice in his head pleaded for him to think rationally.

He opened the car door and slammed it shut behind him as he got in, it was a miracle the car door window didn’t break from the force. He was quick to pull up your location and an airy laugh left him as he knew the location too well. A dive bar on the outskirts of the city, the same exact bar he had found you in. It was tragically comical.

He didn’t bother with a seat belt as he backed out of his parking spot and hit the gas and drove off after you. The speed limit was a mere suggestion as city lights passed him just as quickly as they appeared. He was livid as his knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel. He was angry. He was angry that you had the audacity to be out with someone at the bar that he met you at. He was furious that you were busy with some asshole who had the nerve to address him by his first name. He was livid that he didn’t just leave work and go to you as soon as he landed. He was heartbroken because even though he was lost in this haze of consuming rage he had no right to feel this way. You weren’t his, but he was yours.

As Leon quickly pulled into the parking lot he parked his car with no regard to the faded white lines that were supposed to indicate parking spots. He left the car running as he slammed the car door shut, making a bigger scene than the screeching sound his tires made against the asphalt when he parked. He could feel the eyes of smokers burning a hole in his frame as he took quick strides to the front doors of the bar.

“Nice ride-.” A voice started but was cut off by the beep of Leon locking the car. Normally Leon would nod politely, but he didn’t bother to spare a glance to whoever made the comment. His brows furrowed and a glare that could kill adorning his face as he stepped into the warm bar.

“Hey!” Zack yelled, the bartender was shouting as Leon watched him scurry from behind the bar and over to a crowded table. Men and some women of varying ages were crowded around the table cheering. “Give that back! How did you even-?” Zack tried to reason as some guy held him back from the table. Leon proceeded with some caution as he approached Zack.

“Let it go, buddy. He’ll give it right back and pay for the shots as soon as he’s done.” A stranger said as he tried to keep Zack back. “He’ll even pay extra if this chick handles her liquor the way she says she can.”

That got Leon’s attention faster as he pushed his way closer to the front of the table. His eyes locked on your frame laying on the tabletop with your head leaning off the end as another guy poured vodka down your throat.

“Yeah! That’s what I’m talking about!” The man screamed before putting the bottle to his mouth and taking a shot straight from the bottle.

Your laugh rang through the bar as you began to try and sit up, but the man was quicker than you were as he bent down to meet you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders to keep you in place. His lips graze yours as he spit his shot into your mouth. Your throat burning as you tried to push him off of you. For a second you thought your weak effort was successful as his lips left yours, but when you gained some composure you heard the shattering of glass and saw people back away quickly from the table.

“Get the fuck off of her!” A voice yelled, that voice, you knew that voice all too well. You sat up as your eyes found Leon’s frame. His shoulders tense as they fell up and down with his labored breathing. His fist clenched and jaw tightened as he threatened in a deep low growl, “Touch her again and I’ll break your fucking spine.” He was in no condition to fight, he was barely standing. He was utterly exhausted and his limbs ached, but the angry adrenaline that coursed through his veins kept him upright.

“Leon.” You dryly got out as you sat up on the table. You repeated his name but he didn’t even glance in your direction.

“Leon? Jesus Christ. Look, she already-.” The man spoke and Leon recognized the voice immediately from the voice message. Leon’s eyes darkened with rage as he looked at this pathetic excuse of a man.

Busy.

“Where is her phone?” Leon asked as he roughly grabbed the man by his shirt collar, “Where is her damn phone?”

“Here, here! Take it!” The man shook as he pulled the phone out of his pocket and handed it to Leon. Leon snatched it from his hand before pushing the man roughly to the ground. Leon towered over him as the man shook, Leon’s unbridled rage causing the bar to grow freezing cold.

“Stay away from her.” Leon turned from the man and his gaze softened only slightly as it landed on you. Your eyes locked with his for only a moment before he avoided your gaze and approached you. His hand found your arm as he helped you off of the table. He wrapped an arm around your waist as the crowd parted like the Red Sea. All eyes were on the both of you as you walked out of the bar.

“I can take it from here.” You said agitated as you tried to push yourself away from Leon.

“I don’t care. I’m taking you home.” Leon said as he unlocked his car. That aggression he felt still resting on the tip of his tongue. He opens the passenger door and with a deep sigh you get in his car. After he just opened the door you took a deep breath before running your hand through your hair. A bottomless pit settled in your stomach before you sat back against the seat.

“Seatbelt.” You heard him say as he got in the car, pulling you out of your thoughts. You compiled as he started to drive out of the parking lot and turned right out of the parking lot.

You raise an eyebrow before looking at him and confusingly confront him, “You were supposed to turn left.”

“I said I’m taking you home. I know where I’m going.” Leon glared ahead and for once wished you wouldn’t say a damn word. He was heated.

“How did you know where I was?”

“Can you not ask questions right now?”

“No, because you’re freaking me out. First, you know where to find me and second, you hook a right when you know my place is left. Where are we going?” You stated in a matter of fact tone as you crossed your arms. You could tell he was angry, but you didn’t care because you were angry too. You never disclosed your location to him, he nearly started a fight, and he continued to treat you like you were something more to him regardless of the fact that he made it clear that you would never be anything more.

“My place. It’s closer and I’m too tired to drive further than what I have too.” He admitted as he sent you a quick glance.

“Your place?” You rolled your eyes, “You’re telling me that your place is closer and we’ve spent all this time at mine?”

“Yeah.” Leon sighed with irritation.

“How is that fair? How is it fair that you know all this shit about me, but I know nothing about you?” You asked flat out and annoyed. Normally after going an extended time without seeing Leon you didn’t ask any questions, you just tended to him until he was ready to talk. He loved that about you, you never pushed him. Leon grunted knowing that it was the alcohol and a mix of unconfronted emotions made you bold.

“We talked about this-.”

“Yeah, we did, but you tracking my location wasn’t in that conversation.” Leon took his eyes off the road as the car came to a stop at a stoplight and he looked at you. He opened his mouth to speak, to defend himself, but you cut him off. “Cut the shit, I know it’s a bugged phone. I had it looked at and your sudden appearance tonight only proved it.”

“It’s only bugged for your protection.” Leon got out through gritted teeth.

“My protection? What the fuck are you even talking about? If anything it’s so you can keep your whores straight and away from your wife.” You spit at him with venom. You knew Leon wasn’t the type of guy to run around town like that, he was a one woman type of guy. You were just angry and confused at why you would be enough to protect but not enough to be his.

Leon’s face turned up in pained disgust and he went to say something, but the blaring of a car horn called his attention back to the road and a green light. You huffed as you turned away from him and he continued to drive onward to his place.

The rest of the car ride was silent, giving you time to feel bad about what you said and how you said it. Your face falling and your anger simmering out as your eyes felt heavy with the weight of fresh tears threatening to spill. You refused to cry though as you sniffed and he pulled into his driveway.

A two story house that was too big for just him, but old enough for you to believe that it was a house that was left to him in some family members' will. Or he could’ve bought it himself easily with the way you’ve seen him treat money; like it was something that grew on trees. He was a complete and utter mystery to you and it drove you insane that you could still fall for someone who you knew so little about. At this point you were more mad at yourself than you were at him. You knew of his interests and hobbies, his likes and dislikes, you saw his heart; but you didn’t have a clue about his day to day life. It was like he existed only to you and no one else. No criminal record, no traceable family; he seemed to have nothing. All you had were snippets of an article about Raccoon City that left you with more questions than answers.

“Don’t worry, the wife’s not home.” Leon muttered through gritted teeth and you winced as he got out of the car. You went and got out of the car alongside him as you followed closely behind him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.” He opened the front door and you followed him in, shutting and locking it behind you. Your body now shaking as his focus remained straight ahead. He was so cold and you knew you deserved it. “I know that’s not you. I just…” you hesitated as you could feel your throat beginning to clog, knowing that your voice was going to waver and your next words were going to come out broken if you didn’t get a grip.

“I’ve got a guest room, but I haven’t found time to clean it out so there is a bunch of junk and shit in there. You can take my bed and I’ll take the guest room.” Your heart broke, thinking he didn’t even want to be near you and you couldn’t blame him.

“I think we should call this off.” Your voice still broke as you said it and Leon quickly turned to you. His gaze softened immediately as soon as he saw your big glassy doe eyes. He stood frozen as his heart shattered. He was losing you and it wasn’t to some unforeseen force, he did this. His refusal to let you in completely had pushed you away.

Leon was a fighter, it was his job. He stood up for what was right, he fought for people who couldn’t fight for themselves, he fought so people who weren’t fighters never had too. But did he ever fight for his own selfish desires? At the end of the day was he willing to fight for the first good thing he’s had in his life for a while? At the bar he was ready. He was ready to push his exhaustion aside and fight the object that stood between him and you; but now? Fighting you, the person he desired the most.

“Look, it’s not anything personal…I just…this isn’t working for me.” You nervously blabbered out, the silence killing you. You took a deep breath as your hands found your hips, “I mean the Pretty Women aspect of it was fun, I had fun. I don’t know, I guess, I mean…” you stumbled over your own words.

“Alright.” He said and you looked away from him as your arms wrapped around yourself trying to comfort yourself. The floodgates of your tears threatening to spill as your eyes darted around the room.

“Okay. Good. I’ll sleep on the couch and grab a cab and be gone before the sun comes up.” You voice low as you head to the couch but Leon catches you by your elbow. The sudden connection of your bare skin against the palm of his hand sends a chill up his spine.

“I want to start again. I want to make it right.” He said as he slowly looked at you, his own eyes glassy. You study his face now and how exhausted he looked. “I’ll tell you everything. Let me start over. Let me make it right.” Your brows knitted together as you relaxed slightly and your other hand cupped his cheek. Tears fell from your eyes as you stifled a pained groan. “Please.” He begged and how could you say no?

Your lips found him in a hesitant kiss that he returned with desperation. The moment your lips sparked against his he was ready to fight again. His hand trailed down your arm and before it found your waist. He pulled you close to him as your arms wrapped around his neck. Sweet desperate kisses turned into feverishly hungry ones.

“Need you.” He admitted softly against your lips; hoping that you understood. Hoping that the feeling was returned. Hoping that right now that he said enough, that those two words meant enough. As you melted against him he knew that you understood.

For the first time in a long time Leon was ready to give his all to something besides work.

#resident evil leon #hayley writes a bit #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy resident evil #resident evil fanfic #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil #leon kennedy x you #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #writing romance #writing angst #writing #romance #fluff??#i don’t even know #he’s just my baby

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astrobei · 1 year

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for @quinnick: kiss prompt #4 - lips barely touching

The car is out of gas. Will is about ten seconds away from maybe-dying (again). Mike Wheeler has been abnormally quiet today.

At least of late, one of those things is more abnormal than the others.

The car is always out of gas. Will doesn’t know when the last time they’d filled it up was, but he does know that it’s not his problem trying to figure it out. That’s Hopper’s deal. Or his mom’s, maybe. Or Nancy’s, or Jonathan’s, or–

Whatever! The point is that the car is out of gas, Mike and Will are stranded at the currently closed general store, and they’re probably about to die.

Again.

“Mike,” Will tries, for maybe the hundredth time. “It’s not your fault, okay, it could’ve happened to anyone–”

“Yeah,” Mike grumbles miserably, as they round the corner, from aisle four – cleaning supplies and household items – into aisle five – canned goods. Most of the shelves are empty, turned over. Mike picks up a can of pickled green beans, pulls a face, and puts it back on the shelf. “But it didn’t happen to anyone. It happened to me.”

Will takes a long, deep breath in through his nose. God forbid Mike Wheeler ever let anything go. “You didn’t know,” he huffs anyway. “It’s not your fault.” The store is dark, which is great for being able to roll your eyes without Mike seeing. Will’s flashlight sputters, briefly, the bright circle of light flickering in and out of view. He smacks it against his palm once, twice, and it steadies. “Seriously,” Will adds, as Mike slows to a stop in front of him. “Stop beating yourself up. So we have to wait for a ride. Big deal.”

Mike turns around to face him. His expression is mostly unreadable in the dark, but Will’s flashlight catches the edge of it – worried, a little guilty. “Yeah,” Mike says softly. “Except there are things everywhere and waiting for a ride is just– we’re sitting ducks here, okay,” Mike frowns. “I don’t like it. It feels like tempting fate.”

“Well, the simple fact of my existence feels like tempting fate sometimes,” Will jokes. It works, for a split second – Mike’s furrowed brows smooth out into something halfway amused, and he makes a noise that might be a laugh.

“Not funny,” Mike says anyway. His lips twitch.

“You laughed!” Will insists, smiling. His voice carries down through the hallway in a vibrant echo. “I know you did!”

“Shut up,” Mike whispers, looking away. “Would it kill you to keep your voice down?”

It might. Somewhere in the back of Will’s mind, he’s vaguely aware that they’re not safe here, out in the open, and that the whole point of them coming inside instead of waiting in the parking lot was to hunker down until Jonathan and Nancy could get another car here to pick them up. And also, preferably, get some gas.

Somewhere significantly closer in Will’s mind, though, is the knowledge that this is the most Mike has said – and the closest he’s come to laughing – since the car had stalled on the way from the cabin to the general store ten minutes ago, and Mike had just barely had time to pull into the abandoned parking lot before it had stopped altogether. He knows Mike doesn’t like this – being caught off-guard, out in the open. Even minute changes in the plan – which you’d think they’d all be more prepared for, considering the way things have been going lately – get Mike a little keyed up.

And the sorry, borderline pathetic part is this: despite it all, despite the ever-present threat of danger, and the impending sense of doom that’s been hanging over their heads for what seems like forever, Will feels vaguely pleased with himself anyway, seeing Mike hold back a smile instead of forcing one on his face.

So yeah, it might kill him, if he kept his voice down. That’s okay. Will thinks it would be worth it, sometimes – the danger and the doom and everything else – to hear Mike laugh.

God, what’s wrong with him? That’s embarrassing. That’s so embarrassing.

He shakes the thought off. “Whatever,” Will says instead, praying the cover of darkness is hiding the blush that’s rapidly rising to his cheeks. He angles the flashlight away from them anyway, just in case, and Mike’s face falls back into silhouette. “You know I’m right. You’re doomed just by being here with me.”

Mike shakes his head. “You know I don’t think of you like that.”

Will frowns. “Like what?”

“Like– like a bad luck charm,” Mike waves his hands around. “Or whatever.”

“I didn’t say bad luck charm,” Will exclaims. “Ouch! Stop putting words into my mouth.”

Mike grins. “Would you rather have, uh,” he picks up the nearest can to him, something small and vaguely gray, “tinned sardines in your mouth? Tinned sardines in water? Oh, gross. Never mind, actually.”

“I would rather not,” Will decides, even though the shelves are so bare that they might have to suck it up and take home the tinned sardines in water after all. “Would you like some, uh. Tuna?”

“I guess we know why there’s so much fish,” Mike sighs, leaning heavily against an empty shelf. “Nobody wanted it.”

“You mean the ten people outside of our circle of friends that are still left in Hawkins? Yeah,” Will scoffs, then sets the can back down with a soft clink. “I guess not.”

Neither of them say anything for a moment. It’s quiet in the store, the room dark and lit faintly by Will’s flashlight and the display in the corner. It lights Mike up a faint blue, catches the edges of his jaw and where his hair is curling softly over the hood of his jacket.

Will’s flashlight sputters again.

When it comes back on this time, it’s more faint than it was before. It’s dark in here, Will realizes, a bit belatedly. Like, really dark.

He takes a deep breath and shuffles closer to Mike, just a little, like the shape of his body all leaned against the empty shelves is a grounding force. Mike gives him a look that Will can’t quite decipher in the dark.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Will breathes out. The proximity is helping, a little. “Just– waiting for our ride.”

Mike leans in a bit closer too, places an arm under Will’s elbow. It’s a light touch, nothing forceful, but the semblance of support is there. “You sure? You look a little pale.”

Sometimes, Will hates how well Mike knows him. He doesn’t get antsy in the same way Mike does in situations like these, but he’d be lying if he said they didn’t affect him at all. It should be expected by now, the automatic fight or flight.

For some cruel reason, it still isn’t. “You can’t even see me,” he says, but lets himself lean into the touch anyway.

“I can see enough,” Mike says easily. “Do you want to sit down?”

Will shakes his head. The only thing worse than waiting out in the open is sitting out in the open. At least when you’re standing, you can run. “No. I’m fine.”

Will can’t see Mike either, but he’d be willing to bet real money – that he doesn’t have – that he can tell exactly what Mike’s expression looks like. The pause grows, swells and swells and swells, until Will is sure Mike is going to say something–

There’s a clattering outside.

Instantly, Mike’s hand tightens its grip on Will’s elbow. “Did you hear that?”

“Yes,” Will hisses, twisting around to try and see through the windows. “Of course I heard that, Mike.”

“Do you think that’s–”

“No idea,” Will whispers. With no small amount of reluctance, he tugs his arm out of Mike’s grip. He misses the warmth of it almost instantaneously, and the tugging in his stomach is only amplified by the way Mike automatically leans in behind him, places a hand on his back to replace the absent touch, like it was never gone at all. Will swallows, and flicks the flashlight off. “Now be quiet.”

“The windows are boarded up,” Mike says, decidedly not being quiet. Will wonders where the Mike Wheeler of fifteen minutes ago went – the one that was sulking and fidgeting in silence the whole way down the first aid aisle. “They’re boarded up, so nothing can get in. Right?”

“We got in,” Will points out, which Mike seems to realize at approximately the same second he does. It’s getting a little hard to think, with Mike so close to him.

Will really wishes Mike would pull his hand away.

“Right,” Mike whispers, breath ghosting gently over the back of Will’s neck. “Okay. That’s fine. That’s fine.”

Fine, Will thinks. That’s one word for it.

Another clattering. It’s closer this time.

Will freezes.

Jonathan and Nancy are probably about ten minutes out. Twenty if they had to go back to the Wheelers’ for the other car. So they’d probably be fine if they stuck it out here, because the chance of something happening across them now, in the brief period of time where they’re stuck without a ride, in a building equipped with close to nothing that could help, is small.

Small, but not nonexistent.

Will isn’t really feeling inclined to take that chance. “Come on,” he says, then spins on his heel, grabbing Mike’s hand and tugging him in the opposite direction. “Come with me.”

Mike follows easily, stumbling slightly with the sudden movement. “Wh– where are we going?”

“Just come on,” Will says, then tugs Mike around to the back of the store. He yanks open a door, and shoves him inside. “Get in.”

“Whoa,” Mike says, as Will tumbles in behind him. “Will, what–”

“Would it kill you to be quiet?”

“Sorry,” Mike says, then does, at last, fall silent.

Immediately, Will wishes he hadn’t said that. It’s dark in here – even darker than out in the front of the store – and the only noise is the faint hum of a generator, somewhere behind the walls. It’s grating and stilted. Will wonders when the last time it had been repaired was.

Plus, it’s really–

It’s really fucking dark in here.

Will lets out a long, slow exhale, and reaches out to feel for the wall beside him. His palm comes into contact with chipped paint and he follows the shape of it down, lowering himself onto the ground.

“Will?” Mike says, and Will is in half a mind to say that thing about being quiet again, but–

It’s dark. It’s really dark.

“Yeah,” he says, barely audible even to himself over the faint hum of the generator, and the louder hum – demanding, prominent, persistent – of his blood rushing through his ears. “I just– sitting. I’m sitting.”

There had at least been some light out in the front, but this storage closet might as well be a void. It smells vaguely of dust, something stale and unknown and probably untouched for who-knows-how-long. Will takes another deep breath in.

“Where?” Mike asks. “I don’t want to step on you.”

Will cracks a smile. “Here,” he says, and holds a hand up in the air. “Right here.”

There’s a quiet shuffling sound as Mike moves closer, and then Will feels fingertips brushing against his. Mike latches on immediately, gripping tighter onto his hand and sits down in front of him.

Will still can’t see anything – he can’t see anything – but he can feel Mike’s presence like it’s a tangible thing.

Mike could let go of Will’s hand now. Now that he’s found him.

He doesn’t, though.

“Hey,” Mike says, then there’s another faint shuffling noise. “Where are we?”

“Storage closet.”

“Huh. How did you know it was here?”

Will cracks another smile, despite himself. “My mom worked here, remember? For, like, years.”

“Right,” Mike laughs, and then he’s moving closer, knees bumping against knees in the dark. “I forgot. It doesn’t feel like the same place.”

“Tell me about it,” Will sighs. He’s probably breathing in dust and debris and soot and all sorts of gross stuff, but he can’t find it in himself to care. He presses his knees against Mike’s a little harder, just because he can.

“I remember,” Mike starts, readjusting his grip on Will’s hand – fingers interlocked, a firmer grip – “she’d give me free candy from the front counter. Whenever I came in with my parents, I mean. My mom was so confused about why I kept asking to tag along to Melvald’s with her.”

“That’s not fair,” Will laughs. “She never let me have any candy.”

“You were a menace all hopped up on sugar,” Mike points out. “I knew how to behave myself.”

That’s a damn lie, and they both know it. “Liar,” Will says quietly, leaning his head back against the wall. “You’re such a liar.”

“Maybe so,” Mike hums. “But I’m still the one who got free candy, so–”

“Mike!” Will shoves lightly at his knee, and Mike’s answering laugh fills the small space instantaneously. It’s loud – too loud, because they’re supposed to be hiding, goddamnit – but the nagging little voice at the back of Will’s head is vanquished almost as quickly as it came. “Shut up.”

Mike, as always, ignores him. “Why don’t we turn on a light?”

“The fuse is probably blown,” Will responds. “If there’s even a light in this stupid closet.”

“I mean this, idiot,” Mike says, and then clicks the flashlight back on. The batteries must be dying, because it flickers to life weakly, steadying out into a dim yellow-white. “Obviously.”

“Don’t waste the batteries,” Will says at once, trying to grab for it. “Come on, Mike–”

“Jonathan and Nancy will be here any minute and then we can go put in new batteries,” Mike says, holding it easily out of reach. “No point sitting in the dark, right?”

“Mike,” Will tries to protest, but it’s useless. Mike’s made up his mind.

Slowly, and a little far away, Will realizes what Mike is trying to do. He’s not being subtle about it, but subtlety has never been Mike Wheeler’s strong suit. He’s always been exuberant, quick and spontaneous with his actions, and this is no different. Sitting up close, closer than would be strictly necessary in any other situation. Turning the light on, despite the dying batteries. Telling Will about coming here as a kid, all those years ago. Making him laugh. Diffusing the tension.

Jesus, and he’s still holding Will’s hand.

A wave of affection washes over him, sudden and overwhelming enough for Will to feel borderline nauseous.

This isn’t fair. This isn’t fair. Mike can’t just sit here and touch their knees together and hold Will’s hand, and–

“Look,” Mike is saying, and then he’s holding the flashlight under his chin and grinning. “Don’t I look freaky?”

In all honesty, Mike looks fucking hilarious. The direct light casts long shadows across the dips of his cheekbones, the shapes of his eyelashes distorting wildly as he blinks. “No,” Will snorts, rolling his eyes. “You look ridiculous.”

“Really?” Mike grins, in a way that means he knows just how ridiculous he looks. “Not even a little?” He waggles his eyebrows, and the resulting effect is so comical that Will can’t help the laugh that bursts out of him, sharp and sudden and real.

“Mike,” he chides, for the millionth time. “You’re going to kill the battery.”

Mike looks way too pleased with himself. “Worth it,” he says anyway, as he sets the flashlight down. It evens out the sharp angles of his face, now that it’s farther away, lights his cheeks and nose and eyes up into something softer, more open.

Something about the steadiness of Mike’s expression is brighter than any source of light. Suddenly, it’s too much. Suddenly, it’s blinding.

God. He’s so screwed. “For what?”

“Getting you to laugh,” Mike says, simple and easy, like he’s reciting times tables instead of proceeding to turn Will’s entire world upside down on its pathetic little axis.

Will feels his lungs stutter on his next inhale. He looks away. “Don’t do that.”

The gleeful expression falters on Mike’s face. “Don’t do what?”

“Don’t,” Will says, “don’t– you’re being so– so–”

Mike looks caught somewhere between confusion and amusement. “So what?”

“So,” Will tries again, and then Mike moves closer, and the difficulty of articulating a halfway decent sentence immediately increases tenfold. “So.”

“So,” Mike echoes, shifting so the side of his thigh is pressed up against the side of Will’s. He’s being slowly backed into the corner, but the thought isn’t terrifying like it might have been five minutes ago. Suddenly, Will is overwhelmed in a completely new way. “So what?”

“Nice to me,” Will gets out. “Stop being so nice to me.”

Mike pauses, then says, incredulously and half-laughing– “What? Why?”

Bad choice of words. “You heard me,” Will says anyway, because he’s nothing if not stubborn. “You’re being too nice.”

“I should hope so,” Mike says. “I mean, you’re my friend.”

Maybe Will is imagining it, but the sentence feels unfinished. Like there’s a second half to it that Mike is keeping for himself: You’re my friend – right?

The obvious answer here is that yes, Mike is his friend. But that answer feels unfinished too, like a lie by omission. Will tries to imagine it, doing these things with anyone else – what it would be like if Dustin was holding his hand, or if it were Lucas sitting next to him this close.

The conclusion he comes to, almost immediately, is that it would be weird.

It would be really fucking weird.

That feels like– something. An admission, maybe. Because the fact of the matter is that things with Mike have always been like this, and they’ve never been like this with anyone else, and Will doesn’t think they can be like this with anyone else without it being the most unsettling thing that’s ever happened to him.

The silence, he realizes, has gone on just a second too long.

“Yeah,” he blurts out at last. “Yeah. Obviously.”

Something settles over Mike’s face. “Will–”

“Forget I said anything,” Will backpedals, a little bit desperate. “Never mind. Be as nice to me as you want.”

Mike bites down on his lower lip. It looks like he’s holding back a smile. “As nice as I want?”

Oh, no.

“Sure,” Will tries. “Do your worst.”

Mike lets out a shaky exhale. He presses in further, leans in closer until their shoulders are almost touching. “How about this?”

“That’s not nice,” Will says weakly. “That’s just an invasion of personal space.”

“Seems pretty nice to me,” Mike mutters under his breath.

Will inhales sharply. “Mike.”

“What?”

“What are you– doing,” Will whispers, stumbling over his words, just slightly, as Mike places a hand on his arm.

Mike’s gaze does not waver. “Is this okay?”

Is it okay? Will thinks his brain might be halfway to leaking out through his ears. This is–

This is–

“Yeah,” he hears himself say. “Yeah. Great.”

“Okay,” Mike whispers. He’s so close now that Will could count all the freckles spattered across his nose, if he wanted to. He could, and the thought is dizzying, dizzying – suddenly, it’s not the claustrophobia that’s making him feel like this. It can’t be, because Mike is in front of him, and he’s so close that Will could just lean forward and–

He could just–

“Mike.” And maybe he’s a bit of a broken record, but he can’t come up with any words other than his name. He clutches at Mike’s knee and meets his gaze and prays – to whatever deity allowed him to get trapped in a storage closet with Mike Wheeler two inches away from his face – that Mike Wheeler will find the courage in him somewhere to close the fucking gap.

He doesn’t, though, which is a sign that the universe must be majorly fucking with him. Not yet, anyway. Not anywhere near as fast as Will needs it to be – if this is what he thinks it is, it’s nowhere near fast enough.

In actuality, what it is is excruciating – the way Will’s heart is beating so loud that he’s sure Mike can hear it, in the proximity. The slow circles Mike is tracing over his other hand – the hand that he’s still holding. He’s so close that Will can discern the warmth emanating off him, the familiar scent of soap, can feel Mike’s eyes trained steadily on his mouth, and yet–

Either Mike is actually moving at a speed of one nanosecond per minute, or time has slowed to a near-stop around them. Mike’s grip on his hand is agonizing, caustic in all the places where they’re touching, each slow circle of Mike’s thumb against his wrist driving him slowly and steadily out of his mind. Do it, Will thinks, like maybe if he thinks it loud enough, Mike will be able to hear him. Do it, do it, do it.

Mike’s lips touch his.

The world stops moving.

It must, anyway. Or maybe it’s just that Will doesn’t think he’s breathing anymore – he doesn’t know if he can find it in him to remember how. All he’s aware of is this: Mike’s hands on his arm, his wrist. Mike’s leg under his own palm, warm and steady and pressed up against him in a smooth, unyielding line. The pressure of the wall behind him, the strands of Mike’s hair brushing against his face, and Mike’s lips – gentle, gentle, gentle, and nowhere near enough.

It’s like Mike is waiting for something. Waiting for Will, maybe.

God, okay.

Fuck it, Will thinks, from somewhere far off in his own head. Fuck it. Fuck this.

“Will,” Mike whispers, pulling back a precious few millimeters, and that’s it. That’s all Will can take.

Will lifts his hand off Mike’s leg, raises it to his wrist and tugs. Mike topples into him with a small gasp, Will falls backwards into the wall, and then they’re kissing.

God. Okay.

Mike steadies himself quickly, braces a hand on the wall behind them and leans in, firm and enthusiastic. His hand, Will notices, faintly and with no small amount of affection, is shaking. Just slightly. Will’s trapped between them again – Mike and the wall – but this time he can’t find it in himself to care even the slightest bit. As if there’s anywhere he’d want to go that wasn’t here, as if he’d want to be somewhere without Mike’s hand carding through his hair, or without his lips moving softly against Will’s own, or the noise he makes when Will presses forward, too fast, too eager, too betrayed by his own fluttering pulse – something like a laugh, trapped deep in his chest.

Suddenly, it’s not enough. It’s not enough. It’s–

“Mike? Will?”

Shit.

In a flash, Mike pulls away, wide-eyed and pink-cheeked and breathing like he’s just run a marathon.

Shit.

“Yeah,” Mike calls, voice cracking just slightly on the syllable. “We’re in here!”

Shit.

“So,” Will says, aiming for nonchalance. He fails immediately. His voice cracks too. Great. “That–”

Don’t freak out, he thinks. Please don’t freak out.

Mike, to his credit, is not freaking out.

“Yeah,” Mike says, voice a little high-pitched but surprisingly even. He clears his throat. “Um. Yeah. You were–”

“Yeah,” Will finishes, rather lamely. He’s grinning like an idiot. He doesn’t even need to look at himself to tell. His expression is mirrored, perfectly, flawlessly, brilliantly, on Mike’s own face.

The closet door gets thrown open, and there’s a blinding, sudden light– “What the fuck,” Mike exclaims, squinting and throwing a hand up in front of his eyes. “Nancy?”

Jonathan peers around her shoulder. “What were you guys doing in here?”

Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t–

Will can’t help it. He looks at Mike, and they immediately burst into laughter.

Shit.

#hiiii quin so sorry but tumblr ate ur og ask #i did immediately memorize it tho bc i read it and i was like Oh Yes #anyways ik u asked for maybe s5 too #and idk why this is where my mind went #there are a million other s5 scenarios that i could've written #but something about byler kissing in dark closets.... haha #yeah <3 #anyways i hope u like this !!#byler #mike wheeler #will byers #fun sized fics #also fun fact for anyone who reads my fics #this was rly close to my og concept for ive come home im so cold #like the third chapter #but that story got away from me so #this isn't the Same but its similar !! kind of.#ok bye

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throneofsmut · 22 days

Text

Just Breathe

Poly! Manorian x Female Reader

Description: Things get heated between Manon and reader and Dorian joins. Based off this request.

Warnings: Poly! smut, slight voyeurism, breath play and choking (I think that's it).

Word Count: 1.9k

Author's Note: sorry this took so long I kept rewriting it (this is my 2nd time writing a poly fic that i can remember) 😭😭and I think this is the best it's gonna get but to the anon that requested it I hope you like it 😖 !! and I'm working on the last request and it'll go up in a few hours !!

****

You were sparring with the training dummy in the training room of the Glass Castle, for hours now. And yet still you showed no sign of stopping or slowing down.

A gift and a curse from being the most powerful pure-blooded fae female in existence. Regardless if you were still in your early 20s.

Your cousin Rowan Whitethorn, the King Consort of Terrasen, trained you himself when you were a child. Only he was able to understand what it's like to have such powerful and vast magic thrumming in your veins, because he’s the same.

He knows how important it is for you to be able to control it instead of letting it control you. Rowan also trained you in weaponry and in combat, in case you couldn’t access your magic.

But, he also taught you the importance of training because of how powerful you are and the importance of not overwhelming yourself with your magic by letting it out in small bursts.

By releasing it in small bursts, you can manage it more effectively and avoid potential dangers or unintended consequences. You can still hear his deep voice now, loud and clear in your head, “It's like releasing pressure slowly from a valve to ensure everything stays under control.”

Which is what you were doing now.

Every blow you landed against the training dummy, powerful, calculated and merciless. Lethal. Had they been a real enemy. While simultaneously letting out small waves of ice-kissed wind around you and into the room.

Then you felt her—your magic always alerting you when she was near. The witch who stole half your heart. Manon Blackbeak the Queen of Witches.

And if she was here then the one who stole the other half of your heart was close by. Dorian Havilliard the King of Adarlan.

“I’ll be up soon,” you told her without stopping raining down blows on the training dummy.

“Don’t bother,” she replied. That made you stop but you still didn’t turn to face her. “It’s almost midday,” she continued, sounding closer this time and you relaxed.

You finally turned to face her and noted that she was already dressed for the day and that she was right. If the sunlight pouring in from the ajar door behind her was any proof. “Huh. . . I guess I lost track of time.” Again, you didn’t have to add, seeing as this happens more often than not.

“Hmm.” Manon hummed, taking a couple more steps closer before stopping in the middle of the room and taking off her tunic, in the training ring. Her gold eyes never leave your chest watching as it rises and falls steadily while you try to catch your breath.

Her gaze darkening when she takes in the fact that your white shirt is practically see through from sweat. You can’t help but smirk, “See something you like?”

She shakes her head, smirking back. “Step into the ring. If you want to keep training, I’ll train with you.” Gold eyes flick down to your hands in a pointed glance. “Unless you want to keep bleeding?” Looking down at your hands, you realize that your knuckles are bruised, cut and bloody.

Brows furrowing as you look over your shoulder at the training dummy; all the hay that once filled it is on the floor, the fabric in tatters and the wood is splintered from where you kept hitting it. “All right, witchling, do your worst.” You challenge as you prowl onto the fighting mat.

“With pleasure, faeling.” She grins as she settles into a fighting stance. You mirror her actions and the second you nod at her, she lunges.

The both of you go back forth for a while trying to pin the other to no avail. “Come on, sweetheart,” you run your tongue on your lips tauntingly, “are you tired already?” You bait her and she takes it, lunging, giving you the opening you need to pin her to the mat.

Your hips settle directly atop of hers, your hands wrapping around her wrists, keeping them and her pinned to the mat. You lean forward using your weight as leverage so she can’t buck you off. She lifts her head as best she can, her eyes flicking to your lips, “Why don’t you just kiss me already?”

You know she’s trying to bait you, eyes flicking from her gold ones to her lips and to her heaving chest. “I’ll kiss you if you can pin me.” Her eyes narrow at your words but she smiles—a smile only reserved for you and Dorian.

Manon tries to buck you off again but you hold firm, chuckling as she struggles, your lips parting to speak but before you can get a word out your magic alerts you of his presence. Dorian. Unconsciously your head turns, to find him looking at you and Manon with amusement.

Giving the witch Queen the opportunity to flip you both so you’re pinned beneath her. She flashes you a wicked smirk, her own eyes glinting and then she’s kissing you. Your lips parting in a moan that she swallows before letting out a moan of her own as you deepen the kiss.

The both of you pull away at the same time, panting softly when you hear his deep sensual voice, “Done already?” You both open your mouths to respond when invisible hands rove over and in between your bodies, earning breathy whines from you. “Tired?” he questions.

Manon grinds against you, both of you letting out soft moans at the feeling and from the way Dorian’s using his magic on you. An invisible hand roving over both of your tits, palming and squeezing before sliding up, and wrapping around your throat—squeezing.

Through half lidded eyes you see Manon arch her back and tilt her head back, proving she feels the same thing. “Can you keep going. . . yes or no?” Dorian asks again, his voice low with desire and commanding.

“Yes.” You both breathe and the hands wrapped around your throats squeezes harder.

“Good girls,” the King praises. Your head turns towards him when you hear sure and steady footfalls getting closer. He flashes you a lazy grin, vibrant blue eyes flickering over both of your forms before he tuts, shaking his head. “Both of you are wearing too much clothes.”

His fingers make quick work of removing his own clothes while his magic makes quick work of removing both of yours. “Come here,” he murmurs to the both of you as he stands in the middle of the mat. You both move to stand before him and then he commands you to lay down.

Once your back is flat against the mat he kneels between your legs and leans over you to kiss you, once. Hungrily—a warning of what’s to come. Then he’s commanding Manon. “Sit on her face, witchling.” Dorian’s lips wrapping around your clit the same time Manon straddles your face.

You part her folds that were glistening with arousal with a pointed tongue, flicking it against her clit while Dorian sucked yours harshly. “Oh, gods!” Manon cried out as her hips bucked but you clamped your hands around her thighs, keeping her in place.

Her hips jerking everytime you moaned against her sensitive bundle of nerves from your princeling sucking and swirling his tongue over your clit while fucking you with long deft fingers. The both of you, writhing and moaning messes while nearly falling over the edge.

Then he curled them inside you, hitting the spot that sent you over the edge everytime and you came with a lewd moan that sent Manon over the edge with you while you sucked her clit. She was still trembling when she rolled off of you.

Dorian was still working you through your orgasm with his fingers when he sat on his knees between your legs. Invisible fingers pinching and rolling your hardened nipples, others gripping your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze as you come undone beneath his touch.

You could still hear Manon cry out from pleasure and you had no doubt invisible hands were bringing her pleasure in waves. One orgasm blending into two and two to three.

Dorian was the image of pure male satisfaction as he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean. His free hand rubbing the head of his cock against your folds, making your hips jerk and then he pushed in inch by inch. Stretching you out. Kissing you, your neck, swirling his tongue over your nipples as you adjusted to him.

You rolled your hips letting him know he could move and his ring adorned hand wrapped around your throat, “Careful, faeling. I’m fucking you right now. Not the other way around.” You whined at his words as his hips snapped at a brutal pace.

“F-fuck. . . oh!” you rasped out. “You feel so good!”

He threw his head back in a groan at the praise. But then, his head snapped towards the door, hips never faltering. And that’s when you heard it, heavy footsteps walking by at the end of the corridor. Probably one of the royal guards. Maybe Chaol.

Your back arching as you let out a sharp moan at the thought of being heard, being caught with your lovers.

Dorian squeezed harder, “You want them to see you getting fucked? Hmm?” He slapped one of your tits earning another moan. “You want them to see you getting treated like the pretty slut that you are, my little faeling.” You nodded desperately and he chuckled darkly, “then take it.”

His large hands moved to grip your hips and you greedily gulped down air, as he pounded into you mercilessly. He leaned back on his haunches slightly changing the angle and your walls clenched around his cock in response.

You felt pressure building at the base of your spine and knew you were going to dissolve into pleasure again. Your legs instinctively wrapped around him and his hips began to stutter.

He wrapped a ring adorned hand around your throat again, squeezing until you saw stars and then he leaned down. His warm breath tickling your sensitive pointed ear, “Just breathe,” he taunted then he let go. His words, the last thing you heard as you fell over the edge.

Moments later you felt his cock twitch inside you and then he was spilling himself into you. Hips jerking as he worked both of you through your orgasm.

You felt him kiss you and then your forehead and then he pulled out.

Through your heart pounding in your ears you heard Manon crying out for him and it was all you could do to open your eyes and look at them. Manon was on her hands and knees and Dorian was behind her.

Fucking her mercilessly.

The only noises you could hear were obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin, Manon’s breathy moans and Dorian’s low raspy groans. Your body was still trembling when Manon wrapped a pale hand around your ankle and pulled you towards her, so your cunt was right in front of her face.

Still panting from your orgasm when she gave you a feral grin, “Just breathe, sweetheart.” She teased you with the same nickname you had taunted her with earlier and started eating you out.

You screamed out as your body jolted from the overstimulation but that only spurred her on. Your back arching as she moaned against your clit. You could already feel another orgasm building and from the way they were both moaning and groaning you knew they were too.

And not even a minute later all three of you came at the same time. Each other’s names on your lips in a plea or prayer you couldn’t tell.

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gloomysoup · 3 months

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when the world stops turning (my heart stops beating) - pt. 4

hello yes i know it's been a while. this part has been a pain in my ass for months. i needed to get it just right and rewrote this thing so many times it's not even funny. and now, after editing it five times over the last two days, i'm just posting it. what's done is done. if i came back to it again i would have rewritten and i don't wanna do that. so here it is at least. there is also going to be at least one more part. i'm shooting for two more hopefully but i make no promises. the next part could very well be the last. i hope you enjoy :)

ao3 pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4

cw: hospitals, dissociation, mentions of overdose, addiction, sobriety, and relapse

Eddie couldn’t move. His body was fighting against every instinct he should have in the moment. Someone could throw something directly at his head, and he wouldn’t react. The buzzing voices around him faded in and out as he stared at a chip in the wood of the table in front of him.

One of Steve’s doctors had finally come to speak with them. They couldn’t say anything for certain at the moment, but he was alive, and that’s all Eddie heard before his head went fuzzy again. His mind was still reeling, caught on the fact that he should have seen this. He should have noticed. He should have been able to help Steve. He failed the only person who’d ever loved him like that, the only one who ever would love Eddie like that. Because Steve was it for him. He’d always known that. No one else would even come close. No one could ever compare to Steve Harrington.

Not only had he failed Steve, but he’d failed Robin too. He was supposed to keep Steve safe. Robin couldn’t lose her best friend; Eddie knew that. He’d promised to take care of him. He couldn’t even do that one thing right. God, what was he going to tell Robin?

They didn’t want Steve to have visitors yet. Eddie managed to gather that much at least. It was still touch and go. He wasn’t awake. They weren’t sure if he ever would be. They’re flushing his system, but it’s really just a game of wait and see. They might be able to see him in the morning, but the doctor wasn’t making any promises. It all depended on how the rest of the night went. If he made it through. They couldn’t say anything else for certain. There had been a lot of drugs in his system. He’d been deprived of oxygen for a long time. There was no way to be sure what would happen next. That was all up to Steve now.

Eddie sat there in that uncomfortable waiting room chair for hours. He didn’t move. He didn’t eat or drink. He didn’t even get up to go to the bathroom. He just sat there, staring at the same chip in the wooden table. His friends all tried their best to get through to him. They tried to coax him into eating or drinking something, but their efforts were unsuccessful. No one could get through to him, and he preferred it that way. He deserved to sit in his own silence, letting his brain run reckless and spiral to the depths of his fears and anxiety. He had failed.

He noticed that the more time seemed to pass, the antsier his bandmates got. Though, he couldn’t be exactly sure that’s what was happening. Time escaped him.

Time was such a funny thing, wasn’t it? It can feel like it speeds up, slows down, or stops entirely, but it never changes. It’s always the same. It’s all in the imagination. Eddie was never that good at telling time as a child. Even as he grew older, he found it difficult to keep track. As he sat in that hospital, his entire life on the brink of falling apart at the seams, time was nowhere to be found. Nothing made sense. He just sat silently, staring. People moved around him, time passed, but Eddie didn’t move. He was trapped. His body was at the hospital, but his mind kept bouncing around. From his mom, to Wayne, to Steve on the bathroom floor. An endless cycle. Eddie was hanging on by a single thread: the only thread of life left in Steve.

Eddie would never survive if Steve didn’t make it out alive.

Eddie was aware that a long time had passed only by the ache in his joints and the dryness of his mouth. He also sort of needed to pee, but that wasn’t important. At least, not important enough to warrant getting up. He couldn't move. He needed to stay right in that spot. Nothing was more important than that.

“Come on, Ed,” Wayne’s gruff voice said from somewhere behind him. Eddie stayed rooted to the spot. “It’s time to go, kid. We’ve gotta get to the reception.”

Eddie stood silently, staring straight ahead at the marble headstone. His mother’s name was engraved with curly letters. Eddie hadn’t known that was possible. There were piles of flowers that he knew wouldn’t be there next week. He didn’t speak. His feet were glued to the soft ground beneath him. His suit was itchy and his worn dress shoes were a size too small. The tie around his neck was suffocating. He couldn’t breathe.

He broke down right there, tears rolling down his cheeks and gasping sobs bursting from his chest. He sank down to the ground at the foot of his mother’s fresh grave, clawing at the stupid red tie that his mother had bought him two years prior and the collar of his white dress shirt. Wayne sighed softly and sat down beside him, gently pulling his hands away and shushing Eddie as he loosened the tie. He let him collapse against his chest, tie almost completely off and the first two buttons of his shirt undone. Wayne held him through each wracking sob and stuttering breath, murmuring comfort until he’d gotten it all out.

“I couldn’t do it, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie whispered hoarsely. “Why couldn’t I do it?”

“Do what, Ed?”

“Save her.”

Why couldn't he do it?

“Eddie, seriously, you need to eat something,” Jeff said, holding out a bag of chips from the vending machine. Eddie stared blankly at the bag, seeing but not really. He heard the words coming from Jeff’s mouth, but his body refused to respond. He couldn’t quite fully process what he was saying. It slipped out of his head before he got the chance, replaced with his mother’s voice, or Steve promising he was fine. He was fine. There was nothing wrong. It was just weed. Nothing more. He was fine.

He lied.

What else had Steve lied about? What else was he keeping from Eddie? Every time Steve came home late, claiming some generic excuse about work or traffic or whatever else it may have been, how often had those been lies? What had he been doing instead? Getting high? Shooting up in a parking garage somewhere? Was he ever with someone else? Someone who wasn’t Eddie?

Steve would never cheat. Eddie had to remind himself of that over and over again. Repeat it on a loop in his head. Anything to get it to stay there.

He would not cheat. He would not cheat. He would not cheat.

But he would lie.

Eddie has never been insecure about their relationship before. He loved Steve more than anything. He always knew Steve felt the same. Steve loved him. No questions asked. Eddie knew. He didn't need to be told that Steve loved him. It was just obvious. Now, though, Eddie was second guessing everything. Why would he lie? If Steve could lie so easily about something like this, what else had he lied about? Had their whole relationship been a lie? Has Steve ever told him the truth about anything?

His brain swirled with more thoughts, more insecurities. He stared at the chip in the table as he spiraled. His fingers and toes were tingling. This couldn’t be real. It had to be a dream, a nightmare. Any minute now, he was going to wake up. Everything would be fine. It was just one big nightmare. He would be laying in bed next to Steve, who would be snoring softly. He would roll over and tuck his arms around his boyfriend’s waist. He could hold him tight, bury his nose in the back of Steve’s neck and breathe in the scent of his shampoo. He could fall back into a peaceful sleep with Steve in his arms, safe and sound.

Except he wasn't waking up. No matter how much he tried, no matter how hard he willed his eyes to open, it didn't happen. He was trapped. There was no escape. Steve wasn't there. He may never be there again. This was all Eddie’s fault. If only he’d noticed. If only he cared enough. None of it was enough. Eddie wasn’t enough. He never should have expected to be enough for Steve. Steve deserved better.

Eddie never should have asked him to come on tour with them.

If Eddie hadn’t asked him to go, this never would have happened. Steve would be at home, in their apartment with Robin, probably sleeping in her room every night. He hated sleeping alone. He’d be sitting on the couch, wrapped up in one of Eddie’s hoodies and the threadbare blue blanket they took from the trailer when they moved, watching movies with Robin and a bowl of popcorn. He wouldn’t be dying in a hospital in New York. He’d be happy and safe. Eddie would miss him like hell, but at least he would be safe.

The sun was shining, blindingly bright, through the tall windows on the far wall of the waiting room when the doctor finally came back. Eddie’s knee had taken to bouncing anxiously a while ago, maybe an hour, maybe more. He can’t be sure. His brain had mostly come back online, but he still felt a little foggy. Untethered. His world was unbalanced. His ears were still ringing even as the doctor started talking. He barely heard a single word. Snippets of information filtered through the fog. Stable. Made it through the night. Up to Steve now. ICU. Visitors. The next thing he knows, Jeff is leading him through the halls with the doctor. It’s just the three of them. Other doctors and nurses bustled around them.

They finally crossed the double doors into the ICU. Eddie’s heart pounded as the doctor led them over to one of the sliding doors. She opened it, and Eddie couldn't move. He could hear the machines inside, see the edge of the hospital bed. If he turned his head a little, he knew he would see Steve. The doctor walked in and picked up the chart at the foot of the bed. She flipped it open and clicked her pen, writing things down and glancing at monitors.

“Eddie, why don't we go inside?” Jeff suggested softly, his hand on Eddie’s arm. “Steve needs you right now.”

Eddie's feet moved of their own accord, taking slow steps into the room. Jeff followed behind him, closing the door once they were both in the room. He carefully led Eddie over to the chair, giving him a light push on the shoulder to sit him down. As soon as he was close enough, Eddie grabbed Steve’s hand. An instinct he would probably always have. It didn't matter what was going on in his brain. If Steve’s hand was there, Eddie was holding it.

“Is he okay?” the doctor asked gently, nodding to Eddie.

Jeff sighed. “I hope so. This is all really hard on him.”

“How long have they been together?”

Jeff looked up, a little startled. It may have been New York, and queer relationships were a little more accepted than they were just a few years ago, but Steve and Eddie had always been careful. Cautious. They all had. But she was quick to respond before Jeff could even think to redirect.

“It’s okay, really. I know what love looks like. I would look at my partner the same way if something like this ever happened to her.”

“Oh.” Jeff glanced at Eddie, who had his eyes glued to Steve’s hand in his. “Um… it’s been almost eight years now. They’ve been through a lot together.”

She closed the chart and put it back at the end of the bed. She nodded a few times, watching the machines that beeped rhythmically. “I’m going to hold on to hope,” she said softly. “For them. For everyone like us. I can’t say anything for certain; this is all up to Steve. We’re doing everything we can. But I’m holding on to hope.”

“I guess that’s all any of us can do now, isn’t it?”

“I think so.” She cleared her throat and took a step back from the bed, turning to Jeff. “I have other patients to round on, but I’ll be back to check up on everything in a couple of hours. If you guys need anything, just let one of the nurses know.”

“Thank you.”

Silence fell through the room as the doctor left. Jeff took the chair in the corner, letting Eddie have whatever time he needed. He was mostly there for Eddie’s sake; someone had to make sure he would be okay until Wayne got there. Truthfully, they were all out of their depths here. No one really understood what was happening in Eddie’s brain. Not even close to the way Wayne would.

They sat there in total silence for a long time. It's unclear to Eddie just how long, but long enough that Jeff had gotten up four times. Once to get food, once for the bathroom, and twice to hit vending machines and coffee. Not that Eddie accepted anything Jeff offered him. His body still felt wildly disconnected from his brain. His limbs were heavy. He also knows it's been long enough that nurses have come in to check on Steve eight times, and his doctor has been back once. It seems the only thing Eddie’s mind can keep track of is how many times someone has entered or exited Steve’s room in the ICU.

Jeff gets up for a fifth time. Another bathroom break, from the few words Eddie managed to retain. The door slid shut behind him, and Eddie was alone again. He squeezed Steve’s hand three times, desperate for any sign that he's still there. That he's fighting for Eddie. Nothing happens. The machines beep. His chest rises and falls rhythmically with the calculated breaths of the ventilator. Steve’s eyes shift beneath his eyelids, but they don't open. They won't open. The door slid open again, and Eddie assumed Jeff was back, though it seemed like he wasn't gone very long. And then he hears it.

“Oh, God.”

Eddie’s head shot up at the sound of Robin’s shaky voice behind him. She looked wrecked. Her face was blotchy, her eyes puffy and red. There were tear tracks down her cheeks. Wayne was standing beside her, looking somber. He watched her take a rattled breath, crossing the room slowly. Her eyes don't leave Steve. Wayne followed a few moments later, coming to stand behind Eddie and put a hand on his shoulder. Eddie wanted to break. As if he hadn't been slowly breaking this whole time.

“They- they said it was an overdose?” Robin asked softly, her voice cracking at the end. Eddie merely nodded, still trying to find his voice. “What- what happened, Eddie? Was it- was he drugged? How- how did this- did he relapse?”

“Relapse?” Eddie croaked, his voice hoarse from disuse. That didn't make any sense. For Steve to relapse, he would have to be…. “He- he was clean?”

Robin frowned, and her gaze finally found Eddie. “What do you mean he was clean? He's been clean since ‘85, Eddie. I- I helped him, after Starcourt.”

All the air left Eddie’s lungs in an instant. This was all his fault. Steve was- he was clean. Sober. And Eddie ruined that. He gave Steve weed. He brought him on tour. He took him to parties full of temptation. He killed Steve.

“This is all my fault,” he whispered.

“Eddie, you have to tell me what's going on,” Robin begged. “When did he relapse? Why didn't he call me? He promised he would talk to me if he wanted to get high again.”

“I- Oh, God. I didn't know. He- he didn't tell me.” Eddie couldn't breathe. His heart squeezed in his chest, and his lungs pushed the air from his body until there was nothing left. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't get it back. He was already hyperventilating. “This is all my fault. Oh my god, it's all my fault.” He was distantly aware of the tears rolling down his cheeks again.

Wayne stepped between Eddie and Robin, crouching down to look up into his nephew's face. His hands were solid against Eddie’s skin, just like they always were. “Ed, you need to talk to me. Take a breath, kid. I'm right here, but you have to tell me what's going on.”

Eddie’s breath stuttered halfway through his chest. “I didn't know, Wayne.”

“What didn't you know, Eddie?”

“I didn't- I didn't know he was sober. I- I thought I- I was just trying to help. I- I gave him weed. I did this.”

Robin’s expression hardened. “You did this to him?”

“I'm so sorry,” Eddie choked out between sobs. “I didn't- I didn't know. I was just trying to help. And- and then he- I knew he wasn't telling me something, but- but he promised it was just weed.”

“Get out.” Robin’s voice was firm, but he could hear the trembling fear behind it.

“What? I-”

“Get out. Get out, right now. You did this, Eddie. He was doing so good until he met you! And now he's dying! So get the hell out, before I make you!"

It was at this moment that the door opened for Jeff’s return. He paused just inside the doorway. Wayne stood up, facing Robin.

“Now, Robin, I think-”

“I don't care!” Robin’s hands were shaking. “This is his fault! I want him out, right now! Or I swear to God, Wayne, I'm going to kill him.”

Wayne glanced back at Jeff, who was the perfect picture of confusion. “Jeff, take Eddie into the hall.”

“What-”

“Don't ask questions right now,” Wayne said sternly with a shake of his head. “Just take him to the hall. I'll be out in a moment.”

As soon as the door shut behind them, and Jeff had led Eddie a little ways from the room, he finally snapped. His knees gave out from underneath him, and Jeff was the only thing holding him up as he sobbed.

This was all his fault. He killed Steve.

First his mom, now the love of his life. It was all his fault.

-----

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#gloomysoup #gloomysoup writes #gloomysoup ao3 #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #stranger things fic #steddie angst #steve stranger things #eddie stranger things #steve harrington angst #rockstar!eddie munson #tw: drug abuse #tw: overdose

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