#and I'm so sorry if I miss any tags - doing my very best I swear xx
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Eddie's Memory Log: Day 59
part 1 here | part 2 here | part 3 here | part 4 here | part 6 here
(ao3 link here)
Steve spends an obnoxious amount of time in front of the mirror. This isn’t breaking news. If he were in that fairytale with the evil witch and her Mirror Disciple, the mirror would be so sick of Steve’s vanity by now.
The surprising part is that Steve has been in front of the mirror since five in the morning. He couldn’t sleep, his mind is one channel full of reruns. And unfortunately, people don’t have a fucking remote control to turn off their brains, so he’s just stuck reliving Saturday morning over and over again.
Here he is. Just staring blankly at his reflection. Yawning. The reflection yawns back. Flipping his hair to one side, thinking about Eddie. Flipping his hair to the other side, thinking about Eddie. Spraying the flyaways down, thinking about Eddie. Steve has to splash his face with water so much that he’s going to show up to the hospital looking like a shriveled-up sponge.
He’s nearly satisfied with how it’s shaping up when Steve is smacked with a thought. A rewind in his rerun. A loop.
It’s Eddie’s voice, that scratchy morning one that made Steve’s toes curl up in his sneakers. All he can hear now is that voice repeating the same syrupy sentence:
‘Feels like cashmere now…’
Steve listens to the phrase till his knees start to wobble. He reaches up into his hair, just to experience what Eddie experienced that day. Instead, all Steve feels is hardened strands. All of it holding a sticky residue. Not soft at all. And definitely not cashmere.
Before the loop can start over for the umpteenth time, Steve strips off his meticulously planned outfit and hops into the shower. The water bursts out, directly onto Steve’s nearly satisfactory styling job. It breaks his pride more than his heart, washing all his hard work away so easily.
Steve never really goes out in public with unstyled hair anymore. Not after the time in eighth grade when Hailey Barnes got gum stuck in his hair mid-make out. Steve had to cut it the shortest it had ever been in his whole life. Led to a full blown Samson storyline for the rest of the school year. He still dated, sure - but barely any second dates.
Steve shakes off his biblical trauma and blow-dries for a good fifteen minutes. Look, if he can’t style it, he can at least dry it out. He’s not a complete heathen for christ’s sake.
It’s weird, staring back at an unstyled Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. But this might earn him more scalp massages. Potential kisses. Potential memories. So if Eddie wants cashmere, Steve’s gonna fucking give it to him.
He’s probably gonna be late for visiting hours, but he’s hopeful that Eddie will forgive him once he gets his vein-busted hands into Steve’s hair. Driving over the speed limit is not exactly necessary and certainly not legal, but fuck it all.
Fuck it all with the windows down.
It’s a gross habit, but Steve starts chewing on his nail as soon as he reaches the door to Eddie’s room. He’s gotta kick these nerves in the ass, pull his charisma out with a rope or some shit.
There’s no reason to be nervous, not after Eddie verified that Steve was reading the situation correctly. That should be confirmation enough to make Steve stop his nasty nail-biting and boost his enthusiasm to max volume.
So that’s exactly what he does. Steve swings the door open, pointing directly towards Eddie upon arrival. “You have some serious explaining to do, Munson.”
“Quite the entrance you got there.” Okay. Less enthusiasm than Steve, for sure. Not even half-volume enthusiasm.
“I mean, just leaving me hanging like that?” Steve lightly smacks Eddie’s shoulder. “You really are the worst eye candy employer of all time.”
Eddie’s eyes narrow as he nods along. “Sure…”
The enthusiasm is dialing down to fucking mute. At this rate, Steve will have to skip the sly banter, go straight for the obvious. His dignity would be damaged if he weren’t so wired.
“Oh come on!” Steve shoves Eddie’s shoulder a bit harder this time. “You’re not gonna say anything about my hair?” Steve runs his hands through it, movie slow-motion style. Then he shakes it out, flounces the ends. Anything for some sign of life at the moment.
“It’s… different.”
No shit, it’s different. It’s certifiable fluff right now. Sort of like angel food cake without the icing.
Steve has to shift gears yet again. Maybe the straightforward path is too basic for Eddie’s liking. Maybe he prefers the smooth lines. Steve can do smooth. Smooth is his fucking specialty.
“Free cashmere doesn’t come around like this everyday.” Steve sits next to Eddie on the bed, messing around with his heart monitor cord. “So touch it all you want, Eds.”
“What’s gotten into you?” Eddie’s face goes siren red. He scoots away from where Steve is sitting and laughs somewhat nervously. “Was it drugs? Did you finally raid my lunchbox?”
“No. No drugs. Just…” Happy to see you. A little wounded that you’re not as happy to see me. But still… happiness overall. “A rare good mood, I guess.”
“I’ll say.” Eddie scoffs. "You are mighty chipper today.”
“Well, yeah.” Steve gets off the bed. He’s clearly making Eddie uncomfortable and he doesn’t know why. His energy is the same as it was Saturday morning. A little heightened, sure, but Eddie thrives off intense shit. Well, he usually does. “I mean, considering what almost happened Saturday.”
Eddie holds up both hands. “Wait. Time out. Saturday?”
“Yeah.”
“This Saturday?”
“Yeah.”
“You were here on the weekend?”
No. No, this can’t be happening. This is Eddie scribbling Steve-related notes on his arm all over again. The trap door in Steve’s stomach drops, all of his insides feel like they’re plunging down to his feet. The blush that had settled in Steve’s face, is now being whipped around, right up to his forehead. He feels sick. He feels a migraine forming. He feels fucking robbed.
“Please. Please tell you didn’t forget.” Steve’s voice is small.
Eddie doesn’t respond immediately, just studies the grim expression on Steve’s whole face. “I need you to be specific with what you’re talking about, Steve.”
“Do you remember Friday?”
Eddie looks up at the ceiling as if his memories are stored somewhere up high. “You came over. We talked about your mixtape. Bubblegum shit. See a dentist. No insurance, yada yada.”
So far, so good.
“We watched the Home Shopping Network for four hours.”
Three, but Steve lets that one slide. Probably felt like four hours.
“The doctors gave me new medicine for… something, I don’t know.”
“That part is important.”
“Yeah well, you try being on more medications than you can count on your hands.” Eddie barks back. “See how many ridiculously long latin names you can remember.”
Look. Steve is a patient person - hasn’t always been that way, but the unexplainable circumstances over the last three years has Miyagi’d the shit out of his patience levels.
Five days a week, Steve sits here. Patiently dealing with whatever unpredictable mood Eddie is going through that day. Five days a week for almost three months. Steve doesn’t wanna sit here and do the math because he knows it’ll be depressing numbers. So many days, hours, minutes, that he spends being the Patient Guy.
But with Eddie snapping while Steve is trying to process how such an amazing moment can simply vanish like a demented magic trick? No. Steve is no longer proficient in the art of Patience.
“You know I didn’t mean that…” Eddie mumbles, fiddles with one of the wires attached to him. Not exactly an apology.
“No please, continue to use me as your emotional punching bag. It’s one of my life’s greatest joys.” Steve leans against the wall, all casual and relaxed. But his words bite just as hard as Eddie’s did. The way he looks and sounds are total contradictions to each other.
Eddie rubs hard over his eyes. “Shit, Steve. I’m being an asshole.”
Fucking christ, that’s still not an apology. “Whatever. Just tell me what you remember after the doctor gave you the medicine.”
Eddie sighs. Looks back up at the ceiling while he talks. “I got really sick…”
“Yeah.”
“You were here.”
“Per usual.”
“But I passed the fuck out once the fever went away.”
“And then…” Steve motions his hand for Eddie to keep going.
“And then?”
Goddamnit. “You don’t remember.”
Eddie stays silent. Searching the whole room now for memories that do not exist. Memories that have expired. Memories that are one-sided.
“You don’t remember any of it.” Steve whispers to himself.
His impatience gets distorted with all of his feelings for Eddie. Everything is barbed-wire sharp, cutting up his throat. He doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, the answers are too unfair. The reality is too bleak. Steve doesn’t deal with his own mental hurdles most days - he can’t add new psychological pitfalls to his life.
Steve is holding his forehead, urging the headache to go away with fingertips and delusion. He opens his eyes momentarily to see Eddie staring back. He looks worried. Powerless.
That makes two of them.
“Steve.” Eddie is almost whispering. “Whatever it is… I’m so sorry that I don’t rem -”
“Don’t do that.” Steve interrupts. “Don’t apologize for having head trauma, Eddie Munson.”
“Alright. I won’t.”
Steve crawls through the barbed wire, gets muddy and messy with the truth. “Look, there’s a lot of other shit you should feel sorry for. Like lashing out at me all the time. And never asking how I’m doing with my… life and shit.”
“There���s a vending machine down the hall that you could fill with all the reasons you should feel sorry. Might as well make a fucking profit off of your remorse.” Steve tacks the dark joke on at the end because he can. Because it’s Eddie.
“But your recovery process is not one of things you should ever feel sorry for. Okay?”
“Yeah.” Eddie gulps. Nods. “Okay.”
Steve is standing at the foot of Eddie’s bed, hands gripped around the plastic railings. His knuckles are the same sterile white as the rest of this god awful room. Steve has become a chameleon to this place that somehow manages to feel haunted by more than just lingering mortality.
“I think I’m gonna head out.” Steve says it without even trying really. The words just stumble out.
Eddie’s mouth opens, forming an ‘oh’ in reply, but no sound comes out with it.
“Yeah this just isn’t… I don’t know.” It’s a lame thing to say but it’s true. Steve has no fucking clue what to do anymore. “I don’t think I can do this today.”
Eddie doesn’t look at him. “Got it.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
Steve takes those few painful steps to the door. His limbs feel heavy. Like guilt and confusion are weighing him down.
No words fit this moment. This departure. So Steve throws a few out there in hopes that it’ll be enough:
“Just… hang in there.”
It’s not enough. Not even close.
“Will do, Harrington.” Eddie still doesn’t look at him.
The door shuts, but Steve thinks he feels it slamming all the way down his spine.
Day 60:
Steve doesn’t go to the hospital today.
It’s Tuesday.
Day 61:
Day 62:
Day 63:
Day 64:
Day 65:
Steve hasn’t really talked to anyone since Monday, not even Robin. She called him once on Wednesday to see if he wanted to grab dinner with her and Vickie, but he politely declined. Didn’t even bother fabricating an excuse. Just stuck with good old-fashioned ‘no.’ Why reinvent the wheel with rejection?
He’s in dirty clothes and watching an Andy Griffith marathon, when the phone rings. He almost ignores it - except he needs to get more onion dip from the fridge anyways, and the phone is on the way there. Might as well pick it up.
“Harrington residence.” His voice drones. “Steve speaking.”
“Shit.”
Shit. “Eddie?”
“Yeah. Hey, man.”
“What’s wrong? Did something happen? Are you okay?” Apparently, Steve cannot switch off the caring portion of his heart.
“Everything is…” Eddie holds out the ‘s’ sound for a while. “I just needed to apologize.”
“Right.”
“And to thank you.”
Steve lowers his eyebrows. “For what?”
“Being here… when you were.” Eddie’s voice sounds dried up. Like he hasn't spoken much in days. “I know you haven’t been back for a few days, and that’s my own damn fault.”
Most of the behavioral stuff is his fault, yeah. But the icing out bullshit that Steve is pulling is cowardly. He’s not doing anything productive with his free time. He’s deadlocked. Stranded in uncertainty.
Eddie continues. “But for all the days you didn’t give up on me… I guess I didn’t know how much I needed that. So thank you.”
“That’s…” Steve is about to say ‘unnecessary,’ but decides against it. Dismissiveness solves nothing. “You’re welcome.”
“Even when I was being Kathy or Hyde or Grendel or whatever else you managed to come up with behind my back.”
Steve didn’t. He thought up a lot of spiteful shit, but he never said any of it out loud. Okay, maybe some it slipped along the way. He’s not perfect.
“I wouldn’t blame you for never coming back to visit me.” Eddie is talking faster now - which is basically normal Eddie speed. “But if you did… I have something I wanna to give you.”
Steve groans. “Not a mixtape, right?”
“Nah, I’ve tortured you enough with my own vocal ridicule.” Eddie snickers, Steve joins him. “It’s nothing much, but yeah. It’s here if you want it.”
“Okay… yeah. Thanks.”
Steve smiles, very briefly. His mind reminds him far too soon that nothing is fixed. Sure, he’s not pissed off at Eddie. The apology was genuine. Beside, it takes way too much brainpower to hold grudges.
But Eddie doesn’t remember what Steve will never forget. That’s still very real.
“Hey, Eddie.” Steve checks again. Just to be certain. “You really don’t remember Saturday?”
There’s a pause. “I really am sorry, Steve.”
Yeah. Sucks just as hard as it did on Monday.
“I know you said not to be sorry for my memory, but I am.”
Well… Eddie remembers their fight.
“Glad you remember that part.” Steve finds the positive. Even if it tastes bitter, it’s positive-ish. “Thanks for calling, Eds.”
“Thanks for not hanging up.”
“Oh, there was deep contemplation about hanging up.”
Eddie lets out a single snort. “Good. At least you’re consistent.”
“I figured there would be lots of bad karma for hanging up on a dude that’s bed-ridden in a hospital.”
“Undoubtedly bad karma. They’d put you in karma jail for such actions.”
“Glad I decided against it then. I’m way too pretty for karma jail.”
“You’re way too pretty for any iteration of jail, Steve Harrington.”
The conversation becomes a stream of easy jokes and harmless insults. Steve prefers it this way, feelings or no feelings. He likes the relaxed discussions that he can have with Eddie. He likes how Eddie will run wild with a topic, so that he can just listen. He likes that Eddie will gladly shut up if Steve wants to interject.
Steve just likes him. Likes Eddie.
They talk until Eddie takes his nighttime meds, promptly falling asleep. Snoring into the phone speaker. Steve stays on the line a little while longer. Waits until he hears the heart monitor beating out a steady rhythm.
He hangs up and heads to bed himself. Forgets all about his onion dip and the Andy Griffith marathon.
Day 66:
It’s six in the morning. The sun is gradually hitting the horizon, but Steve is wide awake regardless. He’s a fairly competitive person, but Steve definitely shouldn’t be competing with things like nature, goddamnit.
He picks up the phone, the same one he used last night to talk to Eddie. Swears that it’s still warm from being pressed to his cheek for hours.
He calls Robin. It’s inconsiderate as hell to call this early, but she’s the only one of his friends that might answer at this hour.
Might being the key word. There’s no answer.
Steve sucks in a deep breath. Decides to be extra annoying and calls again.
“Hello?” Thank god it’s not her dad.
“Morning, Buckley.”
“Bye.”
“Wait!”
Robin swears under her breath a few times. “Why? Why must you insist on having the sleep schedule of a farm animal, Steve?”
“Trust me, it’s not by choice.”
“I don’t trust anyone that calls me before noon.” She yawns the last few words of her sentence. “Something must be wrong with you.”
“Nothing’s wrong with me. Nothing you didn’t already know about anyway.” Steve does want to chat and get his mind off of things, but he also needed to hear his friend’s voice. “Just wanted to check in.”
This is what they do now. They have to. No one else is going to check on them because no one else even knows that they literally threw flames at a demonic entity. So they call or show up whenever they can.
They have to.
“I’m hanging in there.” Which is seemingly better than ‘I’m here.’ That phrase is an emotional grenade. “How about you?”
Steve laughs, then sighs. “Obviously sleep is a fuckshow. But yeah. Hanging in there too.”
They shift to lighter subjects. Movies they’re excited to see. Plans to try the new Italian restaurant on Main Street. All the petty town gossip they can think of.
Robin talks about Vickie too. Apparently, they have the same top four favorite novels. She mentions that three times in the same breath, so that must be a pretty big deal. Steve can hear her smiling through every ordinary detail she shares, which makes him happy. He’s glad his best friend has found someone that makes the ordinary shit seem like an adventure.
It selfishly makes him think of Eddie though. How badly he wants to bring him up after every other sentence. How random words remind him of something stupid Eddie said or did.
He’s doing so well with holding back, until Robin asks. She says his name, and Steve fucking shivers at hearing it. Eddie’s name, right in his ear.
“Haven’t seen him in a week…” Steve tries to toss it in there casually, despite how un-casual it is.
“Does that mean his memories are back?”
“Not exactly…”
Robin hums into the speaker, catching on quickly to Steve’s un-casualness. “Well, the coffee is already brewing. Might as well tell me what the fuck happened.”
He goes over everything in random order - whatever hits his mind first. The argument, the spending the night, the arm scribbles, the almost-kiss, the phone call. Steve sounds just like Robin talking about Vickie. Very little breaths and stupidly smiling over all the good parts.
He doesn’t really elaborate on the fact Eddie is a guy and that he’s attracted to him anyways. There’s so many other complicated factors, that part has seemed secondary since the beginning. And honestly, he’s sort of grateful for that. Steve doesn’t want to overthink this. He just wants to see where this will go.
It’s painfully quiet for a while once he gets through everything, even the weirdly erotic hair-massage bit. He’s starting to think they’ve lost connection when he hears Robin crunch her breakfast. Loudly.
“So…” Steve urges. “What do you think?”
She’s chewing her toast even closer to the phone. “About you being in love with Eddie? It’s weird.”
“I’m not in love with Eddie.”
“I’m sorry - you just told me that his heart monitor beats to the rhythm of a song while he’s sleeping.”
“Patiently.” It's Steve's favorite Journey song.
“Pop the champagne and prepare the gondola, my friend.” Robin exclaims. “Cause that is love.”
“Whatever.” Steve grumbles. Sort of despises how valid her point is. “Can’t believe he doesn’t remember.”
“It’s not like he’s cherry-picking his memories, dingus. This wasn’t on purpose.”
Steve clings to that fact. Robin is hardly ever wrong and he loves that about her. “Can’t believe he mentioned Scoops… that fucker.”
“Oh I can believe it.”
He holds his breath for a few seconds. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Eddie was there loitering samples as much as baby Sinclair.”
“No, he wasn’t.”
“Uh.” She sounds totally annoyed with him. “Yes. He was.”
“I think I’d remember seeing a frizzy-haired hyena at Scoops fucking Ahoy, Robin.”
“You’re so wrong about this, my friend.” Robin is giggling now. Steve never knew a giggle could sound so villainous. “Eddie only came to get samples while you were scooping at the back counter.”
“Okay…” Steve says.
“You know… to enjoy the show.”
“It’s too early for this.” He huffs. “Just spell it out for me, Buckley.”
The villainous giggle returns. Might be more evil this time. “Pretty sure the middle-aged divorcees nicknamed it the Below Deck Viewing Party.”
Steve finally gets it.
Oh fuck. “My ass had a fan club?”
“Afraid so.” Robin says. “And Eddie Munson was one of its most loyal admirers.”
Steve feels like running in circles. Doing burpees or jumping jacks. Maybe he’ll just start clapping over this brand new information that’s illuminating the horniest parts of his mind.
“How have you never told me this?” Steve questions, still sizzling with energy.
“And make your big head even more insufferable?” Robing drones. “Ugh. Gag me.”
That checks out. Steve is going to be so intolerable now, especially when he wears those laundry day khakis that Eddie pretends to hate. Maybe Steve should wear them today, just for the hell of it.
They chat until Robin has to head out to work. Neither of them call much attention to the fact that Steve is crushing on a guy, so Steve assumes his brain was right along.
It’s not a big deal. There’s so much more pressing matters at hand - like the fact that his crush doesn’t remember holding his hand all night long.
That’s way more pressing than crushing on dudes.
Eddie isn’t in his hospital bed.
Eddie isn’t in his room at all.
Those realizations clog Steve’s lungs until he feels them caving in. His mind is flooded with the time that Max wasn’t in her hospital room months ago. The time she coded and nobody fucking knew until they were all standing there in a Max-less room.
Steve slumps against the wall, the weight of his lungs and his premonitions are too heavy for him to stand straight.
He’s about to crouch down, get his blood-flow to restart, when two nurses and Eddie walk through the door. They’re guiding him on either side, although he seems fairly stable on his own.
Steve is so relieved. Almost as relieved as the time Max came back after coding. Almost.
“You’re back.” It’s bordering on a question - the way Eddie says it.
“I got him,” Steve waves off the nurses. He takes Eddie’s left arm and holds it tight. Balancing both of them in entirely separate ways. The nurses thank him and he starts directing Eddie to the side of the bed. “Weird to see you standing again.”
He hasn’t seen Eddie upright since…
Steve clears his throat. “You definitely look…” Hot. “Taller than I remember.”
While that’s vaguely true, it is definitely not at the forefront of Steve’s mind. He's touching Eddie again, not in a bed and not to detach all his hospital machinery. He’s just touching him, keeping him steady with his arms, and it’s so fucking nice.
They take a few more steps and the sleeves on Eddie’s hospital gown slips off his shoulder. Steve cannot look away. There’s a gray-ish bruise right on top, extending down to Eddie’s shoulder blade. It’s been healing for months and it’s still discolored. Steve is fixated on the shadowy hue, how Eddie’s pale skin almost glows underneath it.
If Steve’s hands weren’t busy being helpful right now, he’d touch it. Watch the colors ripple under the pad of his finger.
“Well… glad to refresh your memories then.” Eddie tugs the sleeve back up, covering the patchwork skin that Steve couldn’t stop staring at. “But isn’t that your job? To refresh my impoverished frontal lobe?”
Steve redirects his focus. “Impoverished Frontal Lobe would make a good band name.”
“Shit, you’re so right. Dibs.”
“You already have a band, dumbass.”
“True - but every lead guitarist needs a backup band name. Everyone knows that. Fallouts are a disease to the music industry.”
Eddie remembers he plays guitar. Not accordion.
“You can have Impoverished Frontal Lobe if I can have Hometown Slut.” Steve shrugs to one side.
“Can’t have what’s already yours, Stevie.”
Steve finally releases Eddie’s arm, no reason to still be holding it. No medical reason anyways. He catches himself smiling at the natural return of their banter. Even though Steve left, his attraction to Eddie didn’t budge one goddamn inch.
Picking up the visitation routine is easy. Steve settles into the same well-worn chair, turns on the same daytime tv shows, chews the same minty gum that Sam leaves for him at the check-in desk. It’s all the same. As things should be.
Where Steve is supposed to be.
“It’s good to see you again.” The phrase - Eddie’s words - it all reminds Steve of holding shells up to his ears at the beach. “Sorta got used to you being here.” If Steve listens close enough, there’s an I missed you somewhere inside.
“Same.” There’s an I missed you too inside Steve’s words as well.
“And since your back…” Eddie does a drumroll over his thighs. “I can give you your gift.”
“You didn’t mention on the phone that this was a gift.”
“Thought it was implied.” Eddie bends down, drags a basket out from under his hospital bed. He pushes it over to Steve’s chair. “Here.”
Steve is beaming right away because it’s so tacky and gaudy, all synonyms that relate to Eddie. The basket is painted gold, sort of cracking around the splinters of wood. It’s oversized - much bigger than it needs to be for the items sitting inside of it. The clear plastic around it has a silvery glint and it’s so fucking noisy when he moves it around.
It’s not something Steve would’ve ever picked out to give as a gift. But the whole thing screams Eddie Munson, which makes it perfect.
“Yeah yeah, I know. It’s just one of the baskets from the hospital gift shop.” Eddie gestures broadly around the present, smacking the crinkly plastic a few times. “But I emptied out all of the lousy shit. Even replaced it with all of your vending machine preferences.”
It’s a gentle jab at Steve’s vending machine metaphor from last week. The basket is stacked with Steve’s favorite chips and candy - the ones he still chooses week after week.
Eddie remembers that Steve loves Utz potato chips and Junior Mints.
There’s a few sodas thrown in there too. The bottom layer is littered with the sugar packets that Steve hoards for his cafeteria coffee breaks.
But underneath all the snacks and sugar and sodas, there’s a card. It says ‘Feel Better Soon’ on the front.
“Oh yeah, that came with the basket.” Eddie flicks at the edge of the card.
The greeting card hits Steve harder than it should. Eddie has no memory of all the monstrous fuckery Steve has witnessed. So, he can’t even begin to know how much Steve needed that silly little reminder. That Steve needs to get well soon, feel better, hang in there. All of those corny sayings, Steve needs all of them.
“I did write something in it though.”
Steve’s eyes shift up to Eddie. “You did?”
Eddie nods. “Didn’t know if you’d wanna talk to me again after last week.”
Eddie still remembers Steve storming out on Monday. (It’s the first time Steve wishes Eddie would forget something.)
Steve opens the card, but Eddie leans over to grab it out of his hands.
“Don’t read it here.” Eddie fans himself with the card. His hair wisps around, reminds Steve of a windstorm. “Even the freak is susceptible to the occasional embarrassment, okay?”
Steve gives Eddie a thumbs up and looks back over the items. None of them are expensive or luxurious or anything like. It’s all stuff Eddie could scavenge around for. But all of it is thoughtful. Significant.
“So… how are the memories?” Steve asks.
Eddie fills him in while they munch on their mountain of goodies. Music is still the strongest remedy. He tells Steve that if finishes physical therapy, he’ll be approved to play his guitar. Both of them are hopeful that will help unlock his past even more.
Steve pokes fun that Eddie always skipped gym class. He bets Eddie twenty bucks that he’ll play hookie at least once.
Eddie says ‘make it fourty.’ They shake hands on it.
They catch up and get stomachaches from all of the artificially sweetened crap they just ingested. Or maybe they just feel sick from laughing at all the stupid infomercials on tv. Whatever it is, they’re both sore and smiling by the end of the day.
“Guess I should head out.” Steve can already see the gears turning in Eddie’s head, wondering if he’ll be back. “Cool if I return to my usual schedule?”
Eddie’s chest falls. His shoulders relax. “As long as it’s not out of pity.”
“I don’t pity you, Eds.” Steve says. “The nurses, however…”
Eddie rolls his eyes. “Alright, alright. You’ve made your point, dickwad.”
Steve can’t bring himself to hold Eddie’s hand, not really sure why. Things have been mended, but maybe not enough. Maybe it’s all still too fresh.
Instead, Steve rubs the material of Eddie’s blanket. He smooths it out between his fingers, imagining that it’s the material of Eddie’s hospital gown.
Steve’s eyes stay on the fabric in his hands. “If you remember anything after you took that new headache medicine… you’ll tell me, right?”
Eddie knocks his knuckles onto Steve’s hand. Steve lets the fabric go. He looks at Eddie, who is happier now. Warmer.
“Definitely.”
“Good.”
Steve doesn’t wait to read Eddie’s letter. He flips open the card as soon as he gets in his car.
The handwriting is pretty terrible, similar to all of Eddie’s arm scribbles. But Steve must’ve developed an overnight supernatural ability to decode Eddie Munson’s illegible penmanship because he can read every word perfectly:
Steve,
The card says ‘Feel Better,’ but that seems insufficient.
Just better? Nah. That doesn’t cover all the bases (look see? I threw in a sports term just for you, champ).
A trust-fund catalog model that spends the majority of his week with a metalhead who has an affinity for nerd shit?
No way. That kind of person deserves so much more than feeling better.
You deserve to feel worthwhile.
Yours truly,
Eddie/Kathy/Hyde/Grendel/HSN Conspiracy Theorist
ps. Sorry I’m so bad at simple apologies. Everything has to be torturously difficult with me, which you already know.
pps. Well shit. I never even said it properly.
I’m sorry.
Steve is overwhelmed by all of it. Even Eddie’s little doodles on the back cover are causing him shortness of breath.
It’s a sloppy skyline of mixtape-skyscrapers. The tallest one is directly in the middle. Sprawled across the bottom is the word ‘Munsonopolis,’and in quotations underneath it says, ‘featuring the Ed-pire State Building.’ There’s an exaggerated amount of arrows pointing at the one in the middle - just in case it wasn’t clear which one is the featured tower.
Not subtle, that one.
Steve is vibrating with energy the whole drive home. Eddie made so many references to past memories in that letter. Some were running jokes, sure. But others? The trust-fund dig? The sports joke? Steve has so many bullet points to add to the binder. So many things to notate. So much fucking progress.
But he doesn’t write down any of it. Instead, he staples the card to the notebook paper labeled ‘Day 66.’ Everything he’s ever needed to know is in that card. That ironically perfect card.
And it the faintest penciling, Steve writes one bullet for himself:
Robin was right. Definitely think I’m falling for him.
Day 67:
“Apology accepted, by the way.” Steve tosses a jello cup onto Eddie’s table. He snagged one at the cafeteria on his way in - just so Eddie doesn’t wrongfully assume he wanted pudding yet again.
Is it cheating to give away the answers? Yeah. But Steve is falling for this guy, so he’d buy an entire fucking factory of gelatin if Eddie requested it.
“So you read the card?” Eddie viciously tears open the jello lid. Sniffs it. Weird.
Eddie remembers writing Steve the letter.
“Read it. Marinated on it. Read it again.” Steve automatically moves the chair close to the bed. Fuck distance. “Maybe I should make deep annotations on my upcoming reread.”
Eddie grumbles. “Is this how it feels when I tease you about jock shit all the time?”
Eddie remembers their banter. Huh.
“Sure does.” And I’m totally obsessed with it.
“Are you willing to change topics?”
Steve peers over to examine Eddie’s mixtape collection. A sideways grin takes over his face. “Wanna tell me why my mixtape is at the top of the pile over there?”
“Uh…” Eddie whips his head over to the tower. “You know what - the apology card mockery wasn’t so bad after all.”
“Oh really?”
“In fact, I enjoyed it.”
Steve teases Eddie for the rest of their visit, completely unforgiving about it. Payback for two months of this.
He’s pretty sure Eddie likes it more than he does.
Day 68:
Eddie is in and out of the room for physical therapy today. Steve is unfazed by the lack of quality time because any time Eddie does return, Steve gets to help him to his bed. Gets to touch Eddie’s arm, his back. Sometimes his shoulder.
It’s becoming Steve’s hospital equivalent to the whole, ‘yawn and stretch’ move from all those movie theater dates.
“You don’t have to do this, Steve.” Eddie says it every time. “I can walk eight feet on my own.”
“Just in case…” which directly translates to, I want to do this.
Steve asks the same question at the end of every visit now:
“Call me if you remember.”
And Eddie always assures him that he will.
Day 69:
They are playing cards when Eddie brings it up. “What if I never remember?”
“Remember what?” Steve discards one of his cards to the pile. Grabs a new one from the deck.
“The thing that makes you all twitchy at the end of every visit.” Eddie does his best twitchy-Steve impression. It’s insulting, at best. “What if it doesn’t come back?”
“It’ll come back.” Steve is so sure of it. Easygoing.
“How do you know?”
“I just do.”
“How original.”
Steve flips his cards down on the table. He reaches down to the binder that’s an extension of his determination these days, flips through the pages. Pages full of breakthroughs. Even on the lousy days, even when Eddie occasionally backtracks. The pages are still full.
“This is how I know.” Steve holds Eddie’s eye contact after shutting the binder. “I see the progress. It’s not linear, not all the time… but I see it.”
Eddie reaches out. Runs his fingers across the binder, back and forth. Steve stops him the third time, places his hand over Eddie’s. There’s a hitch in Eddie’s breathing when he does it, so Steve slides away, doesn’t linger too long. He listens in to the heart monitor’s cadence for insight on the mood they’ve created.
Not the same as last Saturday. Not the tempo Steve is looking for to take initiative. Not yet.
“I win, by the way.” Eddie announces, flipping his cards over. Smiling that bonus type of smile.
“Damn right you do.”
Day 70:
Eddie is singing one of Steve’s mixtape songs, using his thermometer as a microphone. It’s purposely off-key and he’s implemented some exaggerated accent to it.
This isn’t the first time he’s done this demented-karaoke routine. In fact, Steve has had to suffer through Eddie butchering pop classics since Day 26 of these hospital visits.
He always does it to get Steve to crack - lose his temper or threaten to leave. Steve usually humors Eddie with one of these reactions because it’s fun. It’s a lighthearted habit that they formed after hard days. Pain infested days.
But this week has been good. Surprisingly adequate. Steve is back and Eddie hasn’t thrown up, not once. He only complained about the flavorless cafeteria food on Tuesday, instead of every other day. That alone is an immediate call for celebration.
So today… Steve doesn’t stomp his foot or swear under his breath. Today Steve claps. Encourages the mediocrity of it all.
“Oh, so you like it when I vocally murder your precious pop tunes?” Eddie laughs. Constantly making himself laugh.
“No, I don’t like it.” Steve folds his arms into his chest. Eddie’s laughter is contagious, Steve catches it as he speaks again. “I like you.”
Eddie’s mouth clamps up. His expression drops. His heart monitor skips two beeps in its pattern.
“Can’t believe I finally found the off-button on you.” Steve glides over to the bed. The upperhand is making him fucking fearless. “Only took me seventy days to find it.”
Steve swipes his thumb under Eddie’s jaw, watching his throat muscles tense at the pressure. Eddie gulps, barely anything goes down. Steve can feel that.
“I…”
“Don’t tell me what you think I wanna hear.” Steve checks the clock. Visiting hours ended four minutes ago, and he doesn’t need to get himself into another spending the night incident. As much as he enjoyed the wake-up call, Steve fucking despised the aftermath of reality.
“Steve…” The way he says Steve’s name - as if someone took his vocal cords and dipped them in sweetener.
“I gotta go.” Steve reaches down and squeezes Eddie’s hand one more time before releasing it. “Call me if you remember.”
He turns around to leave, but Eddie hooks his finger into Steve’s belt loop, tugs rapidly on it. Steve’s cheeks flush right away, he can’t even hide it.
“What if I call you anyway?” Eddie plays along. “Memory or no memory?”
Steve removes Eddie’s hand. He’s about to set it back down when the last bit of caution is finally thrown out the window. Steve lays a quick kiss on Eddie’s middle finger, the finger that’s most injured. He squeezes his palm once, then returns Eddie’s hand back to him.
“Maybe I’ll call you first, Munson.”
He leaves before getting a good look at Eddie’s reception to the hand kiss. Steve has never kissed another dude’s hand before, and there’s a good possibility that he might’ve been laying the charm on too thick. Smearing it all over the moment like goddamn jelly.
But the whole thing was just too irresistible. And Fully Flustered Eddie is a rare sight to behold, so Steve had to do something charismatic. His self-discipline hasn’t improved that much since high school.
Eddie ends up calling first. He calls nine minutes after Steve gets home.
Clingy bastard.
“Beat you to it, Harrington.”
“Not everything is competition, you know.”
“Is that so?” Eddie’s sarcasm is heavy. “Huh. Guess you do learn something new every day.”
“Easy for you to say. Your mind still has the training wheels on it.”
“Touché.”
Day 71:
It’s Saturday morning. Steve sleeps in - well, Steve does his version of sleeping in. Which basically means, the sun is fully up by the time he wakes up. Small victories.
His phone and alarm clock go off almost simultaneously. Which one: freaky. And two: annoying.
He walks over to his desk, eyes half-open, and picks up the phone.
“Hello?” Steve’s voice croaks into the speaker.
There’s no response, just a few heavy breaths.
Steve is more alert now. “Who is this?”
“I remember.”
Oh fuck. “Eddie?”
“You told me to call when I remember.” Eddie repeats. “I remember, Steve.”
“Holy shit um… okay.” Steve rubs the last bit of sleep from his eyes. Searches around his room for his keys or clothes or fuck - he really doesn’t know what he’s searching for.
“You coming to see me or what?”
“It’s Saturday. Henderson comes to see you on Saturdays.”
“Call and tell him to take a raincheck.” Eddie demands. Rightfully excited. “Cause I fucking remember.”
“Okay, okay.”
“I remember!”
Steve is cackling at the excitement. “I fucking heard you!”
“Get your ass over here before I say it again!”
“Alright alright!” Steve hangs up. Never gets ready so fast in his whole damn life. Almost forgets to put on underwear or style his hair.
This is what he’s been waiting for.
Eddie remembers.
It’s the first time Steve feels anxious walking into the room. He’s keenly aware that both of them are in on the secret. No more whispering around the unrequited attraction. Steve is entering a space that is laid bare. No curtains or subtle implications for either of them to hide behind.
As soon as he opens the door, that’s all in the past.
“Oh shit.” Steve isn’t expecting to see Eddie in the chair when he arrives. He’s wearing gray sweatpants under his hospital gown. Steve is pretty thankful for that - not sure the effect that Eddie’s exposed thighs would have on him in this detrimental state.
“Took your seat.” Eddie is all smug. Head to toe smugness.
“I see that.”
“You can take mine, if you want.”
“I’ll pass.”
Eddie winks. “Hope that’s the last time I hear you say that today.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
There’s a stool that the doctors use in the corner of the room. Steve takes a seat on it and rolls over towards Eddie. He stops right in front of Eddie's knees and leans his face in his hand. Tries to downplay his anticipation as much as possible.
“Wanna tell me what you remember?”
Eddie takes a deep breath. He swings his arms out to the side and lets all of his air out in one go. “My tattoos - I remember when I got them.”
Steve’s shoulders drop. Shrink.
The tattoo thing happened several days before the almost-kiss. Day 52.
“Am I wrong?”
Steve doesn’t really say anything. That’s confirmation enough.
Eddie smacks the top of his head. “Shit, I’m wrong. Made you drive all the way out here to be wrong, jesus christ.”
“Hey, hey.” Steve murmurs, keeps his voice kind. “Not entirely wrong.”
His heart feels likes a crunched-up soda can, but whatever. Yeah, Steve’s hope were set way too high, but he can’t blame Eddie for that. Eddie regained some crucial memories - that should be a good thing. It is a good thing.
“Tell me about the tattoos.” Steve rests his hand over Eddie’s knee. It’s been bouncing incessantly, but stops the second Steve touches him. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and uncover all of it by talking through it.”
“Seems stupid now.”
“Hey.” Steve is stern. “Gaining bits of yourself back is never stupid. That’s your fucking history, goddamnit.”
Steve doesn’t mean to use his coaching voice, but he does.
It works though. Eddie stares at him for a long time before admitting that Steve is right. He gives a long sigh before continuing. “I know where and when I got all of them.”
“Fantastic.” Steve gets as comfy as he can on this small, metal stool. He flips open the binder, clicks his pen. He flips it into the air - just cause.
“Tell me all about it,” He says, catching the pen with ease.
Eddie starts out pretty deflated. He starts off in chronological order, which Steve is impressed by. Steve even tries to cheer Eddie along any time he recalls specific details like locations and dates.
The support seems useful. Eddie stops frowning long enough to retell the story about getting a fake ID, just for tattoos. Not for drinking or for getting into clubs. Eddie wanted to be the only sophomore with tattoos.
Steve has never been interested in getting tattoos, there’s nothing he’s ever liked enough to prick needles into his skin. However, he really likes seeing them all over Eddie. All the dark lines and the passionate stories that go with them.
They take a lunch break and snack break, both of them equally improving Eddie’s crabby mood. Eddie gets sort of winded after talking for too long, so Steve helps him to the bed.
“You don’t have to do this.” Eddie says, sticking to his usual response.
“Thought it was obvious” Steve pulls the cover over Eddie’s arms, fluffs out the sides of his pillows. “I want to.”
“Didn’t know you were such a gentleman.” Eddie observes. “Courting the sickly is a weird move though.”
Steve takes his seat back, moving it next to Eddie’s bed. Always closing more distance than he did the last time. “Good thing you’re not sickly then.”
“Courting the freak is still a weird move.”
“Well, say the word and I’ll lay off.”
Eddie mimes zipping his mouth shut, tossing the invisible key into the trash bin.
“Looks like we’re all done with your tattoo summaries.” Steve glances over the bullet points, folds the binder shut. “Anything else you wanna do?”
He’s waiting for Eddie to take his turn. Steve has been leading the affection for days, so he’s cautious about any further touching. Needs physical permission to continue.
“Actually…” Eddie shakes his head. “We’re not done with my tattoo summaries.”
“We’re not?”
“I have six tattoos, Stevie. Not five.”
That can’t be right. Dustin told Steve all about Eddie’s tattoos weeks ago. This must be Eddie’s mind messing with him.
“My memory isn’t faulty, not this time.” Eddie taps over the binder before yanking it away. “I do have another tattoo, Stevie. You’ve just never seen it.”
This dirty chess game just got way more interesting.
There’s no point in playing it safe now. Both of them are taking risks, playing offensively. All guards are down, miles away from Indiana.
“Prove it, then.” Steve’s cheeks warm up. He can feel the blood all over, in his ears, in the tip of his nose. “Show me.”
Eddie’s teeth look sharper when he smiles this time. Like Steve’s dare has turned his bones into blades.
“Are you gonna wig out if I lift this stupid gown up?”
Yes. Steve would never admit that, but yeah. Internally, he’s wigging out so fucking hard right now.
“You’ve puked all over me, dude. If I didn’t haul ass after that, I’m not gonna haul ass after seeing your skin.”
Eddie glares at him. “Could’ve just said no, but whatever. Be a smart ass.”
“Takes one to know one.”
Eddie twists onto his side, bunching up the material and settling it under his arms. Right over his rib cage, is the sixth tattoo.
It’s a birdcage, one that’s been mangled. The metal bars are all crooked and the cage door is wide open. One of Eddie’s demobat scars goes diagonally through the body art, like those creatures were the ones to slash it open. Destroying Eddie’s body in a multitude of ways.
Steve wants to touch it, feel the healing claw marks that look so much like his own, but deeper. He hides his own scars every day with sweaters and jackets, so it’s easy to forget how connected they are. How much pain they are forced to wear. Mutated skin and mutilated minds.
One battle with death and darkness has made them more alike than society ever would have.
“Where’s the bird?” Steve finally asks, mainly to stop his hand from reaching over, brushing the black lines and red scars.
“Didn’t have a chance to get it done.”
“No?”
Eddie contorts his face. “I got this part done back in January. And I was planning to get the bird inked up on the opposite side once I graduated…”
The last word gets all strangled in Eddie’s throat. Steve barely hears it, doesn’t really need to hear it though. He figures it out by the way Eddie’s hands become fists. How he screws his eyes shut, refusing to let the anger fuel his tears.
Steve gets it. Most of his anger turns to sadness these days too. He knows he’s not a weak person, he knows that. But when those two emotions whisk themselves into a twister, Steve feels puny. Pathetic.
He lets his fingers circle the birdcage design on Eddie’s ribs. A cage on top of another cage. He’s pretty sure Eddie did that on purpose - the guy is obsessed with wordplay. Steve makes a spiral shaper over Eddie’s skin, letting the pattern get smaller and smaller as he reaches the center of the design.
Eddie just watches him do it, Steve can feel the stare, the attention. His breathing is shallow, almost stopped. Almost like he’s holding his breath until Steve finishes whatever he’s doing.
“It suits you.” Steve says, moving his palm over to the scar now. Letting the damaged parts of Eddie receive just as much recognition as the tattoo. Eddie didn’t choose to have these markings, but it doesn’t matter. They’re here now. May as well acknowledge them. Engrave them into his history.
“The tattoo?”
Steve looks up. “All of it.”
“Steve.” Eddie tugs on Steve's arm, nails digging in harder than they need to. He almost makes the gesture feel like a question.
Steve answers it. He sits on the edge of the bed and settles one arm over Eddie’s body for support.
This is exactly where they were one week ago. Sharing the same breath, sharing the same tension.
But the resemblance to their sleep-driven moment from last week stops there. They’ve constructed something new, better. There’s anguish from the past and there’s breakable desire for their present. Last week was surreal, dreamy. This week is unrefined.
Steve can’t comprehend why he likes the rawness of today so much more.
“Am I reading this wrong?” Eddie’s hand lifts up to Steve’s cheek, thumb stroking the corner of his lips.
Steve chuckles, whisper-level laughter. “You’re stealing all of my moves here, Munson.”
"What moves?"
"I said the same thing last week."
“Wait.” Eddie’s huge eyes somehow defy science. Get bigger. “That wasn’t a dream?”
“What wasn’t a dream?”
“That really happened?”
Steve is only half listening. “What are you talking about?”
“Well.. almost happened, I guess I should say.” Eddie is starting to ramble. "The nurses told me that I was having batshit crazy dreams all weekend long. I just assumed there was no way that could've been real."
“Can you please tell me what we’re talking about?”
Eddie is grinning, bouncing in the bed like a spring-loaded toy. “I can’t believe I thought it was a dream this whole fucking week!”
“For the love of god, Munson. Just tell me what happened in this stupid dream!”
Eddie cups Steve’s face and pulls him into a kiss. Kisses the glower right off Steve’s mouth. It only takes a split-second for Steve to react, leaning into it. Steve controls the pace to keep everything soft for Eddie’s sake. Calm hands, smooth lips, slow movements.
There’s a small cut on Eddie’s upper lip, Steve can finally feel it now. He opens his mouth enough to lick over it. Pay extra care to the fragile parts.
Eddie whines a little, his hands dropping to Steve’s collar, dragging him into his chest. Steve lets him, lets the kiss get rougher. Sloppier.
It’s clear that Eddie does not share Steve’s careful approach. He’s so grabby, so possessive. His teeth mash into Steve’s bottom lip. He takes the opportunity to bite and tug, makes Steve yelp. Teeth and kissing is usually a turn off, but god, Steve is obsessed with how Eddie does it. How greedy he is.
Steve dips his mouth in, opens up enough to let Eddie bite and lick as much as he pleases. Be greedy. His free hand is planted on Eddie’s waist, just above his bird cage tattoo.
“Come here.” Eddie’s breath is warm, tinged with the chocolate they had on their snack break. He’s pulling Steve harder now, never breaking the kiss for long.
Steve scoots another inch, slides his hand all the way up to Eddie’s neck. “If I get any closer, I’ll be on top of you.”
“I know how physics works, Harrington.”
“Your super-senior status says otherwise.”
“Please, shut up.” Eddie kisses him harder. His skin is extra pink everywhere Steve has pressed against him. For someone that kisses so madly, he looks so soft. Fresh-laundry soft. “Closer, baby.”
Steve sucks all of the air out of the kiss, totally startled by the nickname. He makes a sound, hopefully nothing too whorish or breathy. But Eddie definitely heard it because he’s smiling against Steve’s lips.
Getting closer isn’t really an option with all of the wires and the unlocked door. So Steve drags his lips under Eddie’s jaw, down his neck. Improvises a way to feel closer, explore deeper.
“Holy shit, you’re good at this.” Eddie hisses, tangling his hands into Steve’s hair.
Getting compliments on his kissing technique makes Steve preen, has to fight the urge to mark up Eddie’s already bruised neck. Explaining fresh hickies to an army of doctors would not be a pleasant task. So Steve flattens his tongue, runs it diagonally across Eddie’s collarbone. Pecks kisses over all the wet spots.
Eddie’s hands drift down to Steve’s chin, lifting his focus back up. “Steve.”
“Yeah?”
“You’re just…” Eddie’s eyes dart all over Steve’s face. He's breathing hard, his heart monitor and his pulse are at war right now. So many rhythms in their shared space. “You’re very pretty.”
“You think so?”
“The universe thinks so.” Eddie kisses Steve’s cheek - feels like tiny embers over his skin. “I’m just confirming it.”
Steve smiles, takes a minute to catch his breath. He’s finally realizing how little he’s been breathing for the last few minutes. His lungs ache the way they would after swim meets. Rattled and burning.
"I like you too, by the way." Eddie kisses Steve’s other cheek, makes it even. “Just to clear things up.”
Eddie remembers Steve spilling his heart out yesterday.
“Consider things clear.” Steve laces their fingers together, under Eddie’s blanket. Each of them staring at the connection, both highly aware it means so much more than helpless support this time.
It means absolutely everything.
Steve’s back in the stupid chair that will never be close enough to Eddie. They lower Eddie’s bed so that Steve can rest his elbow on the side, play with Eddie’s hair just like he did with Steve last week.
He’s infatuated with how different their hair textures feel. Eddie’s hair is all frazzled and knotted. Still soft, but not like Steve’s hair. If Steve’s hair is cashmere, Eddie’s hair is woven wool.
“So you thought last Saturday was a dream, huh?” Steve questions.
“I have some crazy vivid dreams.”
Steve shakes his head. “But all that stuff I said to you. Why did you act so confused?”
“The headache medication knocked me out.” Eddie explains. “I thought you heard me talking in my sleep… saying embarrassing shit and you and your hair.”
“So you thought I was mocking you?”
Eddie hums. Very hushed.
Steve untangles his hand from Eddie’s head and sighs. “You should’ve just told me what you were thinking.”
“I know that now.”
“We could’ve been making out all week.”
“Guess we should make up for lost time then.” Eddie hooks his index finger into Steve’s sweater, tugging him closer. Always tugging.
Steve angles himself to meet Eddie in the middle, kissing him sweetly this time, less urgency. Eddie’s lips are still puffy from Steve sucking on them. He wants to do it all over again, keep them puffed-out and swollen.
The kiss is so slow and so good, that Steve only breaks away when his neck muscles start to tighten up. Too many awkward kissing positions in this hospital room - Steve wants to get Eddie into his car or his bed. The floor might be good too.
“So,” Steve threads their hands back together. “Care to fill me in on your little ‘later, sailor’ comment from last week?”
“You did work at the finest ice cream chain to ever grace Hawkins, did you not?” Eddie retorts.
“Yeah. But of all things, how did you remember that?”
Eddie pokes to the top of Steve’s head with his free hand.
“My hair?”
“Your hairspray or product or whatever you use.” Eddie ruffles it and Steve tries not to become liquid at the touch. “Apparently smells can trigger memories almost instantly.”
“Woah.” Steve makes a mental note on that.
“Very woah.”
“And what about… the club?”
“What club? Hellfire?”
“No, not Hellfire.” Steve playfully pinches the inside of Eddie's palm. “The Below Deck club.”
“Fucking hell, you know about that?” Eddie covers his face. “Somebody please, end my suffering. I can’t go on. Not like this.”
Steve is cackling now, keeling over in his chair, almost tearing up from how much he’s laughing. And each time Eddie tells him to knock it off, he laughs harder. This is a better ab workout than he’s ever had at the gym, he should just cancel his fucking membership.
“All I’m hearing is that my ass is unforgettable.” Steve wipes a laughter-induced tear from his eye.
“Cruel.” Eddie mumbles into his hands. “This humiliation is cruel.”
Steve flips back onto the bed, yanking Eddie’s wrists away from his face. “It’s hot.”
“Drooling over an ice cream employee is hot?”
“You drooled?”
“Dear god, stop this madness.” Eddie grabs the tv remote and aims it at his face.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to rewind my mouth from saying stupid shit.”
“Eddie, chill out.” Steve takes the remote, hiding it behind his back. “I’m just glad you remember me. Even if my ass is the most memorable feature.”
“These are pretty memorable too.” Eddie smushes Steve’s cheeks, forces his lips to pucker out.
“Oh yeah?”
“And these.” Eddie squeezes Steve’s biceps. Steve rolls his eyes and wraps Eddie’s arms around him.
They fall back into a long kiss. Visiting hours are about to end, and Sam is off on the weekends. No one is here to let Steve stay the night. So he kisses Eddie like time isn’t a factor. Steve kisses him slow and nice. Eats up any sugary sounds that leave Eddie’s mouth. Whispers how crazy he is about him any time they come up for air.
“I wish you could stay.”
Steve’s heart rips around the edges hearing Eddie say that. Christ, he wants to stay too. So fucking badly. Wants to stock up on chapstick and water so they can make out all night.
“Maybe I can come back tomorrow?” Steve suggests. “Give your bandmates the day off?”
Eddie nods, nuzzles into the crook of Steve’s neck. “Hey, Steve?”
“Yeah?”
“What if I forget about this?”
Steve hugs Eddie tighter. “Don’t say that.”
“It could happen.” Eddie peers up at him. “Fuck, I don’t want it to happen, but it could.”
“Hey hey, stop it.” Steve clicks their foreheads together and closes his eyes.
He can’t lie. He can’t tell Eddie that forgetting is impossible. But Steve can keep his eyes closed and savor every minute of today. He can hold Eddie’s kiss-warm cheeks and just hope that everything will be okay tomorrow.
Steve opens his eyes. He sees the Hawkins senior-class ring on his hand, and it gives him an idea.
“Here.” Steve plucks the ring off of his left index finger. He leans over and places it in Eddie’s drawer, right next to his dice collection. “If you remember what happened tonight, you’ll know where that ring is. Put it on tomorrow, so I can visually know that you didn’t forget. So I know it’s okay to come in here and kiss you stupid some more.”
"Like this?" Eddie kisses Steve noisily and they laugh, ignoring the shitty alternative for just a minute longer.
“And if I come in and you don’t have it on… well, I’ll be on my best behavior.” Steve gets up from the bed, crosses his fingers over his heart. “No surprise make out sessions or lewd comments, I swear.”
“You’ll be okay with that?”
That’s a tricky question, Steve doesn’t have a ‘yes or no’ answer to it. He’ll be disappointed, that’s undeniable. But he’s so far into this with Eddie. The notes and the recovery and the feelings. Everything is netted together. Steve couldn’t separate it even if he tried.
“I meant what I said yesterday. I like you, Eds.” Steve puts on a brave smile.
“So yeah. If you forget, then it’ll be a pleasure to restart with you.”
Steve swipes Eddie’s bangs to the side so that he can give him a kiss right in the center of his forehead. Kissing the place where all of Eddie’s memories are tucked away, even the lost ones. Wishing and aching for the memories of tonight to lock into that place, stay safe and secure.
Just stay.
Don’t get lost in there.
Please.
#🎶here comes some contenttttt🎶#steddie fic#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#memory log#it's a chonky update but y'all said not to apologize for that soooo 🤐#there will be one more part after this#then we will be done!#thank you to anyone still reading along - totally makes my day#and I'm so sorry if I miss any tags - doing my very best I swear xx
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Teach Me, Senpai!
Pairing: Ino x f!reader x Nanami
Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~2.6k
cw: smut - threesome, spit-roast, PIV sex (doggy style), blow job, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, Nanami is sorta a perv oops, Ino calls Nanami senpai, a hint of a breeding kink, use of pet names, everyone is an adult here in case that doesn’t come across clearly
Summary: Takuma Ino is your silly, golden retriever boyfriend who brings you along to meet his mentor, Nanami Kento. You’ve heard a lot about him, mostly because your boyfriend constantly praises him for being so amazing. You underestimate how close their relationship is until Ino starts asking his "senpai" for pointers on how to spice things up in the bedroom. What better way to learn than to demonstrate, right?
Author’s Note: I'm currently in heat, can you blame me? I tried my best to edit and proofread, sorry if there are any glaring grammar mistakes or typos, please ignore! Tagging @todorosie @crazychaoticizzy @gojoloves @brightnessemma @batafuraikisu (I know you didn't ask, but I'm tagging you anyways bc ily and I think you'd like this lol). I'm sorry if I missed any tags, Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciate, thank you for reading! MDNI divider by @/cafekitsune.
“You’re going to love him, I swear!” Ino insists, dragging you down the hallway of the office building, past empty cubicles. It’s past five and all the employees are out for the remainder of the day.
“I just don’t see why I have to meet him,” you argue, following him reluctantly.
“Because he’s important to me! He’s my mentor, my senpai! I have the highest respect for him, and I think it’s cool for you to finally put a face to a name. Aren’t you curious about the guy I’m always talking about?”
“Not really,” you answer, rolling your eyes. Honestly, you’ve grown sick of hearing your boyfriend gush so much about this Nanami fellow. You’re starting to feel jealous about how highly he thinks of this other man. “Why are we even here? This seems like a very random meeting spot.”
“We debrief here sometimes after our missions. He used to be a salary man, so I guess they still let him use the office.” They arrive at a closed door at the end of the hall. Ino knocks twice, a bright smile on his face, a little too excited for this.
A well-built blonde man answers, donning a blue dress shirt and spotted tie. You immediately notice how large his hands are, clenched to the door frame, staring at you from behind steampunk glasses. “Hello.”
“Nanami! Hey! This is my girlfriend, the one I’ve been telling you about.” You introduce yourself to him with a handshake, confirming that they are indeed very big compared to yours. You feel guilty noticing something that can be misconstrued as inappropriate, even lewd in most cases, so you quickly let the thought fade, stepping inside the room.
It’s a normal looking office, quite barren, except for the few papers stacked on the desk and a map posted on one of the walls. There’s a single chair facing the table, so you take that as Ino stands beside you, arm around your shoulders. “Thanks for letting us stop by. I really wanted to introduce you two to each other.”
Nanami nods curtly, leaning on the edge of the desk in front of you. Your eyes almost drift toward his crotch, curious about his size, but you resist the temptation, ashamed of yourself for even imagining something so completely wrong, especially with your boyfriend right next to you. “You said you wanted to speak to me about something,” he says, focusing on Ino. He removes his glasses, tucking them in his breast pocket.
“Ah, right! Well, I’m a little shy to ask, especially since I haven’t mentioned it to her yet…” Ino scratches his nape nervously, tugging his beanie to cover his reddening ears.
You look at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”
He bites his lip, choosing his words carefully before speaking. “Well, you know how you and I have been…you know, having some trouble in the bedroom?”
At that, you immediately freeze, gaping at him, shocked. A strangled noise comes out of Nanami’s throat, equally jarred.
Ino continues. “I want to get some advice from someone I really trust, like Nanami.” He glances between you, waiting for a response, an uneasy grin on his face.
You’re stunned, heat surrounding your entire body now, mortified that your boyfriend would casually bring this up without any warning whatsoever. It’s no secret to either of you that your sex life has gotten a bit lackluster recently. Besides missionary and the occasional blowjob, there isn’t much else that you’ve tried in the bedroom. Neither of you are that experienced to begin with, and you both lack the confidence to initiate something different, something new. It’s a matter that you’ve been meaning to resolve privately. Or so you thought.
No one speaks for what feels like an eternity. You’re tempted to grab your boyfriend and haul ass out of there, hoping this entire conversation can be forgotten or played up to be some kind of cruel, sick joke. However, you remain seated, curiously anticipating Nanami’s response. After all, you haven’t flat-out refused yet, and neither has he.
Nanami clears his throat. “What kind of advice do you need?” You’re surprised that he’s even entertaining the idea.
“I just want a few tips on how to spice things up,” Ino answers. “Make it more enjoyable for her.” He puts his arm around you again, squeezing your shoulder. You don’t know whether to punch him or kiss him; the arousal growing between your legs says the latter. The thought of another man who’s practically a stranger instructing your eager boyfriend on how to pleasure you is titillating and definitely something different, something new. You won’t deny it: you’re intrigued.
Nanami crosses his arms over his chest, avoiding either of your gazes, focused on the floor instead. “I will help, if you both consent to it.”
Ino turns to you with puppy dog eyes. “Babe, you cool with this?”
Too invested now to refuse, you reply, “Sure.”
Your boyfriend lets out a sigh of relief, the tension relaxing in the air surrounding you. “Sweet. Me too.” He looks at Nanami, a bright smile on his face now, clearly thrilled about this. “What’s first, senpai?”
Nanami clears his throat again, standing up straight, taking a step towards you. “Well, foreplay is always a good place to start.”
Ino sticks his finger up. “Right! Foreplay. Uh, do you have a pen and paper so I can take notes…?”
“You don’t seriously need to take notes on foreplay, do you?” he snaps. “It’s as simple as kissing and touching on all the right spots.”
“What spots are those?”
“It’s probably better if you ask her.” Nanami points to you, making direct eye contact. “Where do you like to be touched?”
You swallow hard, timid from being put on the spot like this. “Just the normal places.”
“The two of you have to communicate better if this is ever going to work out,” he says, a hint of impatience in his tone. “Show him.”
Committing to this fully now, you stand up, grab Ino’s hand and brush it against your lips. “I like it when you kiss me. And when you touch my lips.”
He smiles at you. “That’s good.”
“You can also put your fingers in my mouth every once in a while. If you want,” you suggest, licking the tip of his middle finger.
He smirks. “Yeah. I definitely want that, too.”
“Sometimes, it’s better to learn by doing it,” Nanami interjects, watching the two of you carefully.
You gaze at Ino’s lips, then into his eyes, nodding. He leans in, kissing you slowly. He’s always been a good kisser, a great one, actually. The problem is that he’s too gentle with you.
“Kiss her neck,” Nanami orders, arms at his sides now, hands clenched into tight fists.
Ino follows, trailing down your chin until he’s at your neck, sucking on your skin.
“Put your fingers in her mouth. She said she likes that, right?”
Ino hums, tracing the outline of your lips with his thumb before pushing it in. You surround him, using your grip to pump him in and out of you. His other hand drifts to your waist, teasing the elastic of your pants.
“Are you getting wet, sweetheart?” Nanami’s voice is low and sultry; the use of the pet name has you unraveling much quicker than you expect. Without thinking, you breathe out, “Yes,” pushing his fingers deeper down your throat.
“Fuck, baby,” Ino moans, hot on your ear. “Where else do you want to be touched?”
You pull him out, swallowing your thick saliva, placing his hand between your legs. “Touch me here.”
Ino, eyes glossy with lust, slowly shimmies your pants down your legs, revealing your soaked panties. “Oh shit, you really are wet, fuck.”
“Eat her out,” Nanami demands. There’s a desperate gruffness in his voice that’s undeniable now, and one glance is all it takes for you to realize that he’s hard, an impressive bulge strained in his slacks. He shoves all his belongings off the desk, making room for you. “Here. Do it here.”
Ino curses under his breath, cock stiff in his sweats, leading you to the table, where you sit at the edge, spreading your thighs open for him. He slips your panties off, licking his lips before diving into your arousal, tongue pressed firmly on your clit. “Fuck,” you moan, squirming from the sensation.
Nanami walks to the other side, near your head, staring at Ino’s face buried in your pussy. Instinctually, you reach for him, pulling him by the belt, tongue hanging out. His eyes flit to yours, surprised when you say, “Touch me, senpai.”
Ino moans into you, clearly turned on by it. Obliging, Nanami hoists your shirt off, leaving you in just your bra, which he hastily unhooks to bare your chest. Bending towards you, he wraps his lips around one breast, suckling at your teat, his hand working the other nipple, pinched between his fingers. You’re close to your climax; you just need a little bit more. As if he can read your mind, Nanami releases you with a pop, saying, “Suck on her clit until she comes. Fuck her with your fingers at the same time.” His sudden vulgarity spurs you on, grinding your hips against your boyfriend’s face, pulling Nanami back to your tits.
Ino muffles, puckering his lips around you, sliding his middle finger inside you. You throw your head back on the desk, ecstasy rippling through your entire being, knees shaking with sensitivity.
“Yeah, she likes that,” Nanami purrs, flicking his tongue on your peaked nipples. “Put another in. One at a time, until she’s full.”
Ino manages to fit three of his digits inside you before you orgasm with him latched to your swelling bud, coating him in your slick. He doesn’t stop licking until you’ve come down from your high, pushing his head away, overstimulated. Nanami removes himself from you, unbuckling his belt, watching intently as your boyfriend slips his wet fingers inside your mouth. “Taste yourself babe. You’re so fucking good.” You slurp your own juices off him, pussy throbbing, aching to be fucked.
“You like that, don’t you, sweetheart?” Nanami murmurs, shimmying out of his pants, erection protruding from his briefs. He palms it, rubbing his thumb over the wet spot oozing from the tip. “Ino, tease her a little bit.”
“Yes sir,” he salutes, pulling down his bottoms, cock sprung against the hem of his sweater. He taps the tip of his dick on your puffy bud, smiling wide as you writhe for him. “Damn, baby. I’ve never seen you this wet before.”
“It’s a good thing you came to me then, isn’t it?” Nanami mentions, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. “Now turn around for us, princess. It’s going to feel so much better for you like this.”
You obey, readjusting your body to bend over the desk, ass pushed towards Ino, desperate to be used by them both. Your boyfriend positions his cock at your entrance, huffing, “You ready, baby?”
“Yeah. Fuck me, Ino,” you moan. “Fuck me hard.”
He glides in slowly, stretching you out little by little, easing into you. Once he’s all the way in, groin pressed to your ass, he starts thrusting at a steady pace. It increases gradually until he’s pounding away at you, hitting that sweet spot over and over until your eyes glaze over, in a total state of bliss.
Nanami studies you, enjoying the show until he notices you staring at the bulge in his briefs, tongue lolling, practically begging for him. He smirks at you. “You want all your holes stuffed, don’t you, sweetheart?”
You nod, drool leaking from the sides of your mouth, eyes weepy, peering up at him. How could he resist such a cock hungry slut like you? Especially when you look at him like this?
“I’m going to give you my cock then. Think you can take it?” he asks, shoving his underwear off, cock flopping against his abdomen.
“Oh yeah, she can fucking take it,” Ino grunts, hands gripped to your hips, still fucking you with fervor. “Right babe?” He delivers a fresh slap to your ass, which echoes off the walls of the office.
“Yeah, I can take it,” you mumble, gulping down the spit collecting on your tongue.
Nanami hums, satisfied with your answer, inching his dick closer to your mouth. “Open up for me, sweetheart.”
You do, swallowing him until he bottoms out to the back of your throat, testing your gag reflex. He stays still, staring at you, relishing this lewd sight. “Ino, your girlfriend looks so pretty with my cock in her mouth. Don’t you agree?”
“Fuck, yeah. So fucking hot how she just takes it. She’s a good girl, always has been,” he says from behind you, spreading your cheeks open to watch himself disappear into your pussy with each thrust.
“You’re a lucky man,” Nanami mutters, tipping your chin up, gazing into your eyes. “And you’re a lucky girl, aren’t you? Getting fucked by your boyfriend and his senpai.” Nanami begins to move, pumping himself in and out of your hungry mouth, your tongue running along the underside of his dick.
Ino shrugs his beanie off, running his fingers through his hair, damp with perspiration. “Oh fuck, baby, you’re taking us so fucking good.”
“Like a proper slut,” Nanami adds, tracing the outline of your lips, glossy with spit, stretched around his shaft. “Do you suck his cock as good as you suck mine?”
You nod, swallowing your gag reflex as the tip of his dick hits the back of your throat with each solid thrust of his hips. Your second orgasm approaches quickly, your pussy clenching Ino’s cock, though you can’t say anything while gobbling up Nanami’s cock, so you let it be, continuing to be spit-roasted over the desk, thirsty for their cum.
“Fuck, I’m going to come soon,” Ino says, slowing his pace. “I’ve never…I’ve never come inside her before.”
Nanami, still relishing his blow job, asks, “Why not?”
“Too scared to get her pregnant,” he admits. It’s true; Ino always pulls out, even when you beg him to finish inside you. You appreciate that about him, but in this moment, you want nothing more than his cream pie filling you up.
“Is she on birth control?”
“Y-Yeah.”
Once again, as if psychic, Nanami responds, “Then I’m sure she wouldn’t mind getting your load just this once. Right, sweetheart?”
Your words are muffled. Nanami pulls out, cock wet with your spit, stroking it in his fist. “What was that, princess?”
“I said yes! Give it to me, Ino!” you whine, shaking around him.
“Fuck, are you sure, baby? You sure you want it?”
“Give it to me. Want you to breed me,” you blurt out.
“That’s it, that’s a good girl,” Nanami coos, slapping the head of his cock on your tongue. “How about here? You want it here too?”
You glance at Ino, who’s watching. He nods, licking his lips. “Yes. Want your cum inside me, senpai,” you reply.
He smirks, pushing himself back inside you, his length sliding on every inch of your tongue. “Good girl.”
It doesn’t take long for both men to come, Ino shooting his seed deep into your womb, stuffing you full, Nanami spurting ribbons into your mouth, guzzling down each drop. They pull out slowly, cocks sensitive now from the stimulation. You roll over onto your back, catching your breath, looking up at them with a satisfied smile on your face.
Nanami cups your cheek in his hand, thumb brushing delicately against your skin. “Such a messy girl. I think she needs a few more lessons. What do you think, Ino?”
Your boyfriend’s eyes are blown wide, staring at the lewd sight before him, your pussy leaking with his cum, your mouth drooling with Nanami’s. “Yeah. Definitely needs more, senpai.”
#nanami kento#nanami kento smut#nanami smut#nanami x reader#ino x reader x nanami#ino takuma x reader#takuma ino x reader#takuma ino smut#ino takuma smut#ino x reader x nanami smut#nanami kento x reader#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami smut#nanami x you#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut
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A Scream to the Gods
Hyunjin x Fem!Reader
Genre: Angst, Non idol, Medieval
✨Masterlist✨
Warnings: Cheating, Swearing, Death, Description of blood, Major character death (reader), (Sorry if I missed any tags)
Notes: Hyunjin's POV + I enjoyed writing this but I'm anxious to share it. It's pretty angsty but I enjoy writing in this style. I hope that you enjoy the story!
Word Count: 2538
Summary: Despite you doing your best to make your realm proud Hyunjin couldn't be more opposed to the idea of marrying you. So much so that he's done a great deal of things behind your back to ease the pain. What will happen when everything comes to light and it becomes way too much to handle?
Hyunjin's POV
She was feared, envied even. Every woman she walked past wanted to be her and all of the men wanted a woman of her equal on his arm but no one could ever compare. She was a fair height and her skin was golden like a pool of honey, her mouth was presumably the most craved thing in the kingdom after her body. I’ve heard another man say that she has “The body of a true woman.” One would think that I am happy, ecstatic even for her to be my bride but in reality I’m far from it.
“Hyunjin, we’ll be late if we wait any longer, can't we leave now?” As much as I’d love to remain in my chambers and hide from my mother it is no use, either I go to her or she comes to me.
“Very well, I suppose I’ve waited long enough.” Turning to Lady Y/n I forced a smile and offered her my hand. “Shall we?”
Confidently, she takes my hand and I lead her to my chamber doors. The guards visibly perk up as I exit and close the doors behind me. “Brogan, call for my sister. I'll be needing assistance dealing with my mother” The guard rushes off in the other direction as Lady Y/n and I make our way across the palace to my mother's quarters.
“Would it really be so horrible?” With furrowed brows I look over to Lady Y/n, she halts her movement on the garden bridge and stands in front of me. “Marrying me, is it really that frightening to you?”
A smirk plays upon my lips as I look around to make sure that we are alone, I look her directly in the eyes “Yes, it would be, I’d rather fall into a war with the North than marry the likes of you.” My shoulder bumps into hers as I make my way past her. "Come, let's not waste anymore time."
The remainder of the walk to my mother's quarters felt as if it lasted a thousand lunar cycles. Lady Y/n dragged herself behind me just close enough to look as if we were actually together.
"My Lord." My mother's personal guards greeted me as I approached her chamber doors. Opening the tall doors I enter, neglecting to wait for Lady Y/n.
I halt in my tracks and my heartbeat starts to quicken as I take in the scene before me. My mother, The general and his wife and the high priest of the realm all sat before me in a quiet huddle around my mother's common room table.
"Look who's decided to join us." My mother's cold tone gave way to the reason that such a scene is being displayed before me. Finally, Lady Y/n makes her way Into the room and bows to my mother.
"What the hell is this?" Scoffing my mother sets her tea cup onto the table before her. Grabbing the hand of the general's wife she lifts her to her feet.
"Are you familiar with this woman?" My first thought is that this must be a trap, another one of my mother's creative ploys to get me to marry Lady Y/n.
"What kind of question is that mother? Of course I am familiar with the general's wife." It took everything out of me not to call her by her birth given name, Reyna, my - I mean the general's wife.
"Do you take me as a fool, son?" Exasperated, my mother motions for the general to stand. "Jisung, inform my son of what you've been told."
"Yes, My Queen." Standing to his feet, Han Jisung, the grand general of this realm and a dear friend of mine, looked at me with eyes I did not recognize. With a sigh he followed my mother's orders. "It has been brought to my attention by one of my men that you've been seeing my wife."
Fuck
"Jisung, don't be ridiculous. Do you believe your men over me?"
"My men have a loyalty to me that you don't seem to have, My Lord."
From the corner of my eye I notice Lady Y/n tense, it is at this point that I think the both of us realize the severity of this situation.
"I foresaw that you would try to deny the truth so I took it upon myself to get the answer out of your mistress." Coming from around the table my mother trails Reyna behind her. "I told her that she can either admit to seeing the King and be sent away to the Central Realm or she can keep your dirty secret and be placed on trial for manipulating and seducing the King."
No no no no no, she's lying, my mother lies all the time to get her way this can't be any different, but when my eyes meet Reyna's it is clear to me that my mother is not bluffing. Tears well up in her honey glazed eyes causing anger to boil in my veins.
"Do not punish Reyna for my mistakes, I will stop seeing her." The pain I felt while speaking these words is a feeling I wish to never experience again. At this point every pair of eyes in the chamber are on me, waiting for me to fix what I've done in some way.
"There you go playing me for a fool again, I don't believe you anyway. You're too passionate to stay away from this woman especially while she's with your child."
"What?"
"I'm sorry." Reyna's whispered words were all I needed to hear to break me down just enough for me to nearly give up but by the grace of the Gods I remembered something, something that may turn this into a victory.
“You can not send your Queen away to the Central Kingdom.” Once again all eyes were on me as I revealed my deepest dearest secret. I’ve held these words inside my chest for far too long. “Unhand your Queen, at once.” The maniacal laugh that ripped through my mother could silence any realm within earshot.
“How can she be your wife when she’s married to me?” Jisung’s face may have been just as painful for me to take in as Reyna’s terrified one. He is a good man and I’ve gone behind his back and slept with his wife.
“Your marriage was never officiated by the priest. Therefore Reyna is technically an unmarried woman, well, she was an unmarried woman.” The hard swallow that followed once Jisung realized Reyna was no longer his wife was clearly an attempt at keeping his temper in check.
“You married this girl!?” My mothers grip on Reyna’s wrist visibly tightened
"She has every right to the throne as I do. With that being said I suggest that you unhand your queen before I smite you. You've already tested my patience." My mother throws Reyna's arm away from her in disgust. Reyna holds her wrist to her chest and begins to sob.
"My queen, if you don't mind I need a moment. " With a bow Jisung makes his way to the chamber doors. Stopping before the guards at the entrance, he seems to be in deep thought. "Reyna, if you come with me now I will forget this ever happened. We can move to the Southern realm and live the life that we've always wanted. If you stay I know you've chosen your corrupt king over me. "
With every word that Jisung spoke I wished that he was struck down by lightning. He's trying to take my bride away from me? Without another word he moved outside of the chambers and Reyna watched him leave with pain glazed eyes. My gaze stayed on her until her eyes flickered to mine. The Queen mother watched in silence almost as if she were taking part in a mental prayer.
"My Lord, I love you more than the Gods love this land. You've given me one of the most wonderful gifts that life could ever give and I can never fully repay you for all that you've done. " The tear that fell from Reyna's right eye gave way to my darling's response.
"No, you're not leaving. You're with my child."
"And he will know who his father is. My Lord, I am not worthy of a life with you. I am not fit to be Queen."
"No, you can't leave, I won't let you." Reyna makes her way towards me, stopping right before me.
"Saranghaeyo" I couldn't help the tears that sprung to my eyes.
Without another word she hurried out of my mother's chambers avoiding all eye contact. "Reyna." I called for her hoping she'd return but it was no use. She chose the safest option, she knows that my mother will have her killed if she stays and for that reason alone I will make sure that my mother feels the exact fear that Reyna feels right now. Directing my gaze to the queen mother I warn her.
"Watch your step, you never know which one will have a trap door underneath it." With a smile my mother sits at her common room table and sips her tea.
"I think it's fair to say that we can annul the union you had with your mistress and marry you and Lady Y/n." I glance over to find that Lady Y/n is gone. Not that I care.
"I will not marry that woman, I have no feelings for her. If you're willing to force your son into a loveless marriage you have no business calling yourself a mother. "
"You're right. I'm not a mother, I'm a queen protecting her kingdom from my son who loves to fall in love with the help. Now go find Lady Y/n and apologize for your ignominious behavior." Charging towards my mother I slam my hands onto her common room table shaking her tea cup and startling the priest.
"I will make every day of Lady Y/n's life a living hell and I will be sure to remind her that you are to blame for her eternal suffering." Before my mother could rebuttal a guard came rushing into her quarters.
"Pardon me, my queen. There's an emergency in the garden. Lady Y/n has threatened to take her life." Jumping up from her seat my mother begins to panic.
"Is she armed?"
"Yes, my queen"
"Unarm her and bring her to me" Scoffing, I straighten my garments before turning my back to my mother.
"No, allow me to support my bride. Stay put, you've done enough
"Lady Y/n" she halted all movement at the sound of my voice. Her face was scrunched into one of a perplexed woman as she circled the rose bushes. I had them planted for her earlier this year, she often came here to think or practice archery. I remember the day that I presented the bushes to her, she was so happy, practically glowing. The look of confusion on her face almost makes me miss that happiness… that glow.
"Stay away from me."
"My darling, please come inside. Let me talk to you about this." She turned to me with a look of betrayal stronger than I've ever seen before.
"Talk about what? Your affairs with a married woman? You're hatred for me? I've never acted in an ill manner towards you my lord, yet you treat me as if I'm a pauper begging for your gold. I did not want to come and marry you, I had a love of my own in the Central Kingdom but I left him to be here and serve my born duty. You seem to forget that, you're not my first choice either."
"Darling -"
"Don't call me that" she points her dagger towards me as I take a step towards her."
"Y/n, please. I'll speak to my mother and convince her to have you honorably sent back to the Central kingdom. We've made an alliance with your father, all will be well." Tears fall from her eyes as she listens to my proposition. I slowly take a step towards her as she's distracted.
"Why would I want to be sent back to the Central Realm? To be executed for loving a merchant? That's why my father sent me here. He didn't give a fuck about your alliance, Hyunjin. He wanted a reason to get rid of his sinned seed. I've heard that man pray to the Gods that my love was a mistake. I heard Felix scream to the Gods as my father's court hung him for loving me. Why on earth would I go back to the Central Realm? To die? I'd rather die by my own hand."
Turning her dagger to her chest she holds it firmly with her right hand. Stopping dead in my tracks I begin to panic. Lady Y/n is no fool, if I take another step she'll drive that dagger right through her heart.
"Y/n… my queen… please." Swallowing hard, I try to slowly move towards her. "I've been evil to you. I've shown you the hatred that I did not have the heart to show my mother. I belittled you and I am eternally regretful of my actions. It is only now that I'm being forced to face my mistakes that I realize that you have been the only person to genuinely care about me and my well-being. You came here to honor your late lover's death, not your father's wishes. Let me help you, we'll get married and change this kingdom for the better. We'll make certain that no one will ever have to endure what you have. Especially our daughter, we can turn this all around."
With a weak grin Y/n tightens her grip on the dagger. "My Lord, you can't fool me. You do not care for me and I will not force you to. Besides, I died the moment that my love was taken from me." Y/n's face went blank as she whispered to herself “I’m coming back to you sunshine.”
"Guards!" I ran towards Y/n hoping to save her. Hoping to kiss her like I meant it for once. I wanted to drop to my knees and apologize for the way I've mistreated her. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her into me. The gasps that fell from her mouth gave me the answer that I dreaded before I even looked. "Get me a healer, now!"
Dropping to my knees with her body in my arms I laid her down onto the grass. "Lady Y/n. Darling, please." I held her head up and caressed her flushed cheek. "No, no, no, no you can't leave me too. Come on, wake up."
Blood soaked into the garden soil as my bride bled out. Her eyes fluttered shut peacefully and a mere grin was left on her face. Shaking her body softly I called out to her, praying to the gods that she'd wake up. Praying that the healers could bring my love back. In a whisper I said the words that I didn't have the courage to mutter earlier.
"It wouldn't be horrible at all… to marry you."
#skz#stray kids x reader#hyunjin x reader#stray kids#skz x reader#skz imagines#stray kids x y/n#stray kids scenarios#stray kids hyunjin#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin angst#hyunjin scenarios#hyunjin x y/n#skz hyunjin#hyunjin#han jisung x reader#skz hard thoughts#felix skz#felix lee#felix x reader#skz felix#stray kids felix#han#skz angst#skz au#skz headcanons#skz imagine#skz stay#skz x you#stray kids angst
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Title: The First Official Letter - Fan Mail Pt. 3
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2900
Rating: T
Warnings: Depictions of blood, mentions of killing, angst, mentions of hangovers. Swearing. Soft Steve.
-- To be continued. I hope you enjoy! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list :) --
This story now contains a lesbian couple, OCs, and this is a PRO LGBTQIA+ Page. If you do not support or cannot be kind, you can kindly get the fuck off my page and get your free media somewhere else. NO TERFS, NO HOMOPHOBIA, NO HATE. Happy Pride Month!
Disclaimer: I do not own Bucky Barnes, or anything related to Marvel within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.
I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.
You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.
Maybe Bucky shouldn't have written at all. The thought swam around Bucky's mind for weeks. Since the moment he ran down to the mail room, the elevator taking much too long for his liking, and attempted to sweet talk the lady behind the desk. She did not allude to the fact that both Steve and Sam were hiding in her office.
Steve and Sam made it to the mail office the first thing the morning after the bar, Steve more or less dragging a very hungover Sam behind him. Steve insisted that he saw Bucky's letter in the 'Outgoing Mail' pile on the kitchen countertop when he got up to get a glass of water that night, but the pile was gone this morning. And if Steve knows Bucky like he thinks he does, and he does, the moment Bucky wakes up he is going to try and get that letter back.
The boys made it to the mailroom with only a few moments to spare before Bucky came running down the hall. Steve only got a couple of words in before they both shoved into the small office, pushing their backs up against the door as to not be seen from the other side of the service window.
"Hi, uhh, hello," Bucky huffs a bit, a hand coming up to slick back his bangs from his forehead. "I mailed a letter, and I would like it back," The woman behind the window does her best not to snicker at his words, her eyes casting a quick glance over to the men currently hiding only a few feet from her.
"I'm sorry sir, but once letters have been mailed they cannot be unmailed," She speaks, her eyes not leaving her computer. She worries that if she looks at him, she won't be able to keep from laughing at the whole situation. Working in the tower always comes with antics by the hands of the Avengers, but the trouble they get into is always a bit surprising.
"Please, Miss," Bucky's eyes flash down to her nametag than quickly back up to her face, "Miss Brown, I really do need that letter back,"
"I am sorry, but I cannot release any mail once it makes it this far. Once it is in this office, it is stamped and sent on its way to the post office. You will, however, get it back if it is marked returned to sender," Miss Brown finally looks at him, biting her tongue a bit to keep her composure.
"Are you absolutely sure there is nothing I can do?" Bucky's tone boarders on begging now but he does his best to flash her his best puppy dog eyes, the same ones that used to get any girl he set his sights on. Steve elbows Sam hard in the ribs to subdue his snickering.
"Excuse you, but I am old enough to be your mother, you better not be propositioning me, young man," Miss Brown scolds at him with a pointed finger and Sam has to clasp his hand over Steve's mouth to keep his laughter from giving them away. Tears peak at Sam's eyes as he fights to keep back his own roar of laughter.
Bucky sulks away a moment later, and when he is out of sight Miss Brown turns to the two large men who have fallen to the floor with laughter, tears streaming down their faces.
"And what are you two laughing so hard about?" She questions, looking down at them from her seat. The men try and regain composure, they really do, but each time they look at each other they burst into another fit of laughs. They aren't laughing at Bucky, of course not. They are laughing at just how precisely well Steve knows Bucky, and at the way Miss Brown was so quick to put Bucky right into his place. That was two weeks ago.
Now, Bucky almost falls out of the elevator due to exhaustion. There is a thick layer of sweat holding caked mud onto his skin, the dirt already worked deep into the fabric of his tactical uniform. Chunky pieces of earth fall off his boots as he trudges through the main living area of the compound, leaving a trail behind him with each step.
The mission went to hell in a handbasket. From the moment he stepped foot off the helicopter it seemed like everything was going wrong. Between jammed guns and twice as many Hydra goons as originally thought, Bucky was in over his head. "Leave no bodies" behind turned into a a trail; one that left Bucky feeling queasy and on edge from the moment he crawled back into the helicopter at the extraction point. He wasn't even fortunate enough to collect the data he was sent out to get, the whole operation came up dry.
Agent Hill tried to assure him during his debrief that it wasn't a total loss- one less Hydra agent on the street meant the world was a little safer and with the amount of firepower that Bucky bestowed upon them, that sliver of the world is looking a lot safer. This knowledge did nothing to calm the stir of sickness that flows under Bucky's skin. The only thing that is keeping him going is the thought of the ice cold shower waiting for him at the end of it, so he continues to trudge past his friends in the kitchen.
"Hey, Buck," Steve calls after his friend. Bucky doesn't stop moving towards his quarters.
"Bucky!" Sam calls, shooting a glance Steve's way, confusion written over both of their features.
Bucky wasn't going to stop, he really wasn't. The promise of cold water easing his muscles and the image of the blood and dirt running from his skin, swirling down the drain is too enticing, the thought itself cathartic, but Steve's words manage to have him halting mid-step.
"You have mail, Buck," Steve's voice caries down the hall, "Its two letters, and they are pretty thick," Bucky turns now, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.
"You look like hell," Sam mutters when Bucky rounds the corner into the kitchen. Bucky sends him a glair that could shake the heavens but doesn't say a word.
"Here you go," Steve holds out two envelopes for Bucky, both stuffed full. Bucky doesn't waste a second before ripping into the top one, small tight script on the back reading "Open First". He takes the letter out of the envelope, his eyes drawing over the words quickly.
"Dear James- Bucky, Dear Bucky, I can't even begin to explain how happy I was when I came home to find your letter in my mailbox. I couldn't even contain my joy, if we are being honest. I'm not exactly sure how to go about writing to you now, even though I was the one who proposed being pen pals so I guess I am just going to ask you some questions and maybe you can answer them on your letter back? Only if you want to, of course.
Is it possible to come off as nervous through written word? Because I am positively nervous. I feel like it may be silly to ask, but what do you do for work? I know you are an Avenger, but that means you have exciting stories, right? What do you like to do when you have free time? Do you have a favorite song?
I guess I should tell you a little more about myself. After my grandparents were killed, I was moved into a house with a lovely couple. Jan, my Ma, is the sweetest woman. She loves to cook and bake. She used to sew my clothes when I was a kid, and she always made us matching outfits, for her, my Mom and I. My Mom, Dottie, is a mechanic. Her specialty is motorcycles. She and my Ma have been in a local club for longer than I have been alive. They do charity events and fundraiser drives. They are really wonderful.
When I first came to live with them I really wasn't sure what my life was going to look like, but they took me in and loved me like I was their own. It really made a difference in my life and I couldn't be more thankful that I get to call them my family. After I got out of high school, I went to a really fancy school to become a barber. The school was snobby and the people there took themselves way too seriously but I love my work. I work out of a little shop in Hell's Kitchen called "Sargent's English Traditional". We call the shop "The Set". It's quaint, really.
Anyway, I sent along another envelope with this one, and it contains some bits and bobs to help you get to know me. I hope to hear from you soon, Bucky.
Warmest Regards-"
Bucky can't help the smile that he wears as his eyes fall over the words. There is still a part of him that cant believe that someone is taking time out of their life to write to him. He tries not to dwell on that fact, a bit of excitement blooming in his stomach.
"What's it say, pal?" Steve nudges Bucky's shoulder.
"It seems my pen pal is a barber," Bucky smirks, "And they work in Hell's Kitchen,"
"What's the other envelope?" Sam asks, bringing his drink to his lips. Bucky turns his attention back to the other letter, a small, yellow, manilla envelope lined with bubble wrap, ripping it open carefully. He dumps the contents out on to the countertop. Bucky begins to flip everything face up, not looking at each piece too long before moving to the next.
"What is all this stuff?" Steve inquires, leaning closer to the small collage of items on the table. He reaches forward and picks up a flattened coin, the face of the coin distorted and warped along with the metal. Sam picks up a different item, a set of three pearl buttons. He fingers them around his hand, looking at the delicate pearls from every angle. There are other items too, plants that were once pressed between pages of a book and a ticket stub from a local jazz show. There were pieces of paper with poetry written across them in small neat handwriting and clippings from magazines.
Bucky didn't care about any of it, nor the list that was included that described each item and their meaning, he just didn't care. Instead, he reaches for the polaroid photo that peaks out of the discarded envelope, the corner still stuck on the tack strip that once held the letter closed. He holds it face down for a moment, the realization that there could be anything depicted on the other side sets his lungs ablaze. With a deep breath he tries to fan the fire that burns behind his ribs- he flips the photo.
His action catches the attention of Sam and Steve, their eyes quickly jumping from the other objects to the photo that seems to be dwarfed by Bucky's large hand. Their eyes each map over the photo, taking in each individual detail.
The black and white photograph contains a large brick building, the photo taken from street view. There are plants on the front stoop and clothing lines hanging from windows that string out of frame. There is a caption written on the bottom in red pen, one simple word accented with a heart, "home".
Both Steve and Bucky come to a stop, their eyes locked on the photograph. Bucky's senses are overtaken by the sweat that seems to slick over his body in an instant, mixing with the grimes that is already stuck to his skin. He flashes hot then cold, a shiver running down his spine.
He couldn't care less about the mission anymore, the lives he had to take or the blood that is buried deep under his fingernails. He doesn't care about how he almost fell out of the elevator or about the cold shower he swore he would stand in until he lost track of time. All that matters now is this, the photo in his hand and the sender that made this moment happen.
Sam looks back and fourth between the two, reading a sort of sick nostalgia written across both men's faces.
"What exactly are we looking at?" Sam asks, his voice low.
"Home," Bucky and Steve both whisper, eyes coming up to meet each other.
"That's where we used to live, right before I got shipped out," Bucky's voice is no louder than a whisper and it wavers a bit with each word.
"You technically didn't live there," Steve interjects, his voice only a hair louder than his friends. "You still lived with your Ma and your sisters. It was my place, but he was there so often we were basically roommates."
Sam acknowledges Steve, listening to his story but Bucky can't seem to take his eyes off of the brick building. He never thought he would see it again, usually avoiding it when he is in that part of town. It was a part of his story he wasn't ready to revisit. He has seen his family home and other important places from before the war, but this building was not a place he was ready to bring into the twenty first century.
Maybe he wanted to leave the memories preserved. If he didn't go back, the bubble of time would exist in his brain and everything would be left untouched. He liked it that way. A part of his life he deemed perfect, untouched by the claws of Hydra. If he left it there, pristine and sparkling, it would live on that way forever.
But here it is, encapsulated in black and white, staring back at him. Maybe a part of him knew he wouldn't be able to escape it, the knowledge that it would change with time, just like he did, just like everything.
"Buck, you might want to look at this," Steve holds out a piece of paper, the list and descriptions of the items in the envelope. Bucky takes it with a shaky hand. He rakes his eyes down the list, looking for a description for the photo. He finds it under number seven.
"This is my building in Brooklyn! I think it's a beautiful piece of architecture and I just wanted to share! My Ma helped me find it in an old school newspaper ad. I have lived here for two years now and has been wonderful! The windows are original and they have a habit of getting stuck to prove it. The woodwork is original too, there is even a height tracker that was kept in one of the closets, the pencil marks and initials are still there! SR, JR, SGR, and JBB. I hope they were happy here."
"Do you really think that could be possible?" Steve asks, his eyes on his best friend.
"At this point, I am willing to believe anything," Bucky answers back. It's like they can communicate in half thoughts, leaving out the meat of the conversation, instead communicating it in a way that only they know.
"Does someone want to fill me in here?" Sam questions, trying to read the paper upside down.
"Bucky's pen pal lives in the building I grew up in with my parents, and by the description, they might even live in my old apartment." Steve explains. Bucky looks up but doesn't reach either mans eyes.
"Just when I thought this couldn't get more interesting," Sam whispers, more to the room than to his friends. They stand there for awhile, silence enveloping them like a heap of fresh snow. Sam and Steve shared glances, not sure how to best support their friend.
After a little while, Sam pulls the photo and the paper from Bucky's hands, setting them on the table. Steve takes Bucky by the arm and walks him to his quarters, whispering in words that Sam can't quite hear. Sam collects the mail, putting all of the trinkets back into their original place before setting them back down.
Steve brings Bucky to the bathroom, helping him strip of his tactical gear. He brushes hair from his forehead attempting to keep the blood soaked strands out of his face. He turns the shower on, warmer than Bucky would have done himself, if he could have, but he gets into the shower anyway. Steve stands with his back against the closed bathroom door, his shoulders square, jaw set.
He is swimming in his own feelings but he pushes past the waves instead standing guard for Bucky, keeping the demons of his past at bay while the other man roughly scrubs away the mission from his skin. The dirt, the blood, the remains of his perfect fucking memory. Bucky scrubs his skin raw until its red and weeping.
Bucky lets out a sob, one he barely seems to notice and one Steve definitely doesn't comment on. When Bucky finally draws back the curtain, his face is swollen, tears hidden behind the water that drips from the ends of his now clean hair. The men do not speak, instead Steve lets Bucky pass.
He is off to write a letter. He is sure this time around, no room for maybe.
TAG LIST
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I'm Not From The US!
@fortheunicornchild tagged me in this ask set, so I'm posting the answers here. (Sorry it took so long, been a busy week.)
1. favourite place in your country?
I really loved the times me and my family were on Skye and there was this really nice wee restaurant in Portree. I think I just liked the illusion of isolation (there's a bridge that connects the island to the mainland).
2. do you prefer spending your holidays in your country or travel abroad?
When I was younger, we couldn't afford to go anywhere, so I spent all my holidays in Scotland, with a few days out into the very north of England (specifically around Hadrian's Wall). So, now that I work and have money of my own, I prefer to travel outwith the country when I can, especially since I want to go see the world.
3. does your country have access to sea?
We're an island, baby.
4. favourite dish specific for your country?
Haggis. Usually with broccoli and tatties (not a big fan of neeps).
5. favourite song in your native language?
Technically, my native language should be Gaelic and I don't know many specific songs of it. But I do love listening to Gaelic singers. Such a melodic language, really.
6. most hated song in your native language?
None, I guess.
7. three words from your native language that you like the most?
Failte - means welcome. Usige beatha - literally means water of life, or whisky. Ceilidh - a traditional night of dance, super fun.
8. do you get confused with other nationalities? if so, which ones and by whom?
Not really. I suppose people just think I'm British, which is also true, but I consider myself Scottish first.
9. which of your neighbouring countries would you like to visit most/know best?
I'd like to go back to Norway. I went once, for a week, on my own, a week before everything really opened up. There was a bit of snow too, and I wasn't really prepared since I somehow thought that it must have been spring by then. Anyway, I'd like to see what I missed and also go to the fjords, since I was mostly in Oslo.
10. most enjoyable swear word in your native language?
To be honest, I don't really know any Gaelic swears offhand. I'd have to look it up. But, in English/Scots, I do like "bellend".
11. favourite native writer/poet?
Robert Burns. Gotta love Tam O'Shanter and To a Moose.
12. what do you think about English translations of your favourite native prose/poem?
Burns's stuff is in Scots. If you translated it to English, that would be sacrilegious.
13. does your country (or family) have any specific superstitions or traditions that might seem strange to outsiders?
Up Helly Aa - a Viking festival that happens in Shetland. Most of our superstitions and traditions are probably widely known, or so I think. I suppose people would find it strange that a Viking festival is still being celebrated in a non Nordic country.
14. do you enjoy your country’s cinema and/or TV?
Yeah, there's loads of fun things! "There's been a murder."
15. a saying, joke, or hermetic meme that only people from your country will get?
"Gonnae no dae that?" - "How naw?" - "Just... gonnae no."
16. which stereotype about your country you hate the most and which one you somewhat agree with?
I suppose everyone having red hair is something I disagree with - I mean, it's pretty rare. I'm not sure which one I would agree with, probably how friendly we're supposed to be. No idea, really.
17. are you interested in your country’s history?
Yeah! I've always loved going around Scotland and learning more about its past.
18. do you speak with a dialect of your native language?
Not really. I speak English.
19. do you like your country’s flag and/or emblem? what about the national anthem?
They're the best! Love them! And our national animal is a unicorn.
20. which sport is The Sport in your country?
Football, unfortunately. But rugby is a close second, I guess. Oh! And we're pretty good at curling. Oh, oh! And we're the home of golf, I guess. But most people are concerned with football.
21. if you could send two things from your country into space, what would they be?
Myself with some Irn Bru. Or, a kilt and some bagpipes.
22. what makes you proud about your country? what makes you ashamed?
We tried our hardest not to be in the UK centuries ago. And the Treaty of Arbroath was apparently the precursor to the French and American declarations of Independence. And, for ashamed, a lot of Scottish entrepreneurs and businessmen basically became slave traders and I think they kick-started it? Whether they did or not, most of the slave traders were Scottish, I think, though I'd have to look that up to confirm.
23. which alcoholic beverage is the favoured one in your country?
Probably beer/cider/lager? I don't really drink, so I don't know which is which. Although, I remember drinking a lot of vodka and soft drinks, so... 🤷🏻♀️
24. what other nation is joked about most often in your country?
Probably the English/Americans, about equally.
25. would you like to come from another place, be born in another country?
Nah, I'm fine with Scotland, even if we're still stuck in the UK.
26. does your nationality get portrayed in Hollywood/American media? what do you think about the portrayal?
I suppose. I guess Scottish people get romanticised a fair bit. Or made fun of in the Simpsons, but that's hilarious.
27. favourite national celebrity?
Ewan McGregor. He was at a con I was at once and I watched his panel and he seemed lovely.
28. does your country have a lot of lakes, mountains, rivers? do you have favourites?
Yup. So, so many. Though we call them lochs. Not got a favourite, really. I love the scenery in Scotland.
29. does your region/city have a beef with another place in your country?
I suppose the west of the Central Belt and the east have a sort of rivalry. But it's not that serious, more of a joke.
30. do you have people of different nationalities in your family?
Nope. All Scottish. Though, apparently, my ancestors on my dad's side were Irish at once point.
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I was tagged for this by @mikaharuka , thank you! In turn I want to tag @hylianjo , @tamras-shieldmaiden , @bleepbloopbotz , @lena-hills and @sapphosewrites (I hope none of you were already tagged!)
Total number of completed works: That would be 21, with two of them being multichapter and the rest one-shots of various wordcounts, from 200 to 7000 :D
Total number of WIPs worked on this year: I... have absolutely no idea. I do have two ongoing fics that will be finished this year, I promise, but there's always a ton of fics in different stages of production in my drive... and some of them have been there for years at this point xD
WIPs neglected this year: As I was reminded recently, Death Doesn't Play Chess is still incomplete and I should really work on it. The combination of action and OC-focus has made it difficult, but I'm working on it, I promise.
Fandoms I've written in: There are my beloved, Deep Space Nine, Temeraire and Hades of course... Arcane and Castlevania... and a few new ones! Heartstopper, which was a surprise for me, and Loveless, The Good Place, The Life and Suffering of Sir Brante (going for the obscure one there xD)... oh, and for yuletide there were a few small fandoms too! The Song of Achilles, Legally Blonde (musical), Iron Widow and Spiritfarer!
Total wordcount: According to AO3, that'd be 76,219 words. Not bad!
Looking back, did you write more than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you expected? Probably more, yes! In previous years I was only just over 50k... let's see if the trend continues!
Did you take any writing risks this year? I'd say my biggest risks were... writing my darkest story to date, which included Major Character Death... signing up for Yuletide, which I had always found intimidating... and writing a proper multichaptered story, even if it was still short :D
Do you have any goals for the new year? Finish Death Doesn't Play Chess soon, that's the big one. Write a companion piece for Life is a Rollercoaster, as promised. In general, to publish more wlw and polyam content, even if I still love gen :)
Biggest disappointment? Having to finally let go of a longfic that I had been fighting with since 2019... but I have finally conceded that it's not going to happen. I may publish part of it as one-shots, if I have the time to rework the story :D
Biggest surprise? See below xD But also Yuletide was a lot more fun than I expected! I made a few mistakes, of course, but I'm glad I made the leap of faith, and I'm very much looking forward to joining again next year.
Most popular story of the year? By a huge margin, the winner is Life is a Rollercoaster; or Tao Xu's Fight Against the Big Butterfly of Chaos. That one was also a surprise, both how easy it felt to write and how well-received it was. Now I like Tao even more than I already did xD
What's your own favorite story of the year? Either Cry for the Innocent or Neither Grief Nor Glory, both took several months but I feel like it is some of the best writing I've ever done.
Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: Maybe my TSOA/Hades stories, as they haven't gotten many comments, but they haven't been revealed for very long... so it's pretty early to say for sure.
Most fun story to write: Molly Holmes and the Case of the Missing Present! I swear I was cackling as I typed some of it, and the twists and turns sometimes took me by surprise as well... I certainly didn't expect it to get that mushy xD
Most unintentionally telling story: I'm not sure. Maybe Friendship, Gossip and Cake? But I'm not sure I would call it unintentional, as I did draw from my experiences as asexual to write Georgia and Isaac (pretty please, I so hope Isaac is confirmed as ace in season 2 of Heartstopper)
My favorite part of fandom this year: The friends made along the way. I'm sorry for getting mushy here but... yeah, meeting @mikaharuka was one of the highlights of the year, I've loved our conversations <3 As well as joining a couple of multifandom Discords with very supportive people... just for that, this year has been a success. Thank you!
~ Udaberri
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Give me an explanation!
~ Characters. Bonten!Rindou Haitani & Ran Haitani x Fem Reader! (Separate)
~ Tags. 18+, Mention of Cheating, Smut, Semi-public sex. Ran part is sanzu's fault, typo, grammatical error.
~ Wc. 1.7k
~ An. Sorry for the not detailed smut on rindou's part, I'm sleepy and shit but I might write smut soon so I can make it up to y'all.
Ran Haitani
Ran doesn’t tolerate jealousy. He’s the kind of man who don’t want his s/o to be jealous to anyone, he wants his s/o to trust him. He also know that it’s kinda hard to trust him since he slept with many woman before. Just one chance, give him one chance and trust him. He won’t break your trust, NEVER. He loves you very much that he would even ditch koko and sanzu’s invitation to the bar.
“No, i’m busy and also y/n is enough for me.”
“You’re so killjoy haitani. This is like the tenth time you rejected our invitation, just give us one chance. Bar, my treat.” The pinkette argue with him.
“No, Fuck you treat. I could pay my own”
“Really? Then prove it.”
And now…he was dragged by the pinkette, can’t do anything and helpless. He knows he’s an haitani but he’s helpless because almost every bonten executive is there. Would be a shame if he leaves his higher ups. Too bad rindou isn’t there too.
He was just having tequila, not talking, trying his best at least, So that no one would notice him. Sanzu taking his Beloved drugs. After having four glasses of whiskey, Sanzu suddenly notice him. The high sanzu, oh poor ran…he just wants to go home and cuddle his perfect s/o.
High sanzu have an idea.
“Hey Ran! You fine there? You look depressed, Want someone to accompany you?” High sanzu said.
“No, I'm fine here. So shut the fu–”
“Hey Miss! This man right here wants you to accompany him” the pinkette shouted. Oh my god this drug addict would be dead. “What the fuck Sanzu!”
The girl then starts walking to ran, she sits on his lap without even his CONSENT. He wants to push of the girl of his lap but that would be rude, but he really wants to. He swears to himself that if this girl grinds to his lap, he would push her of and leave. He is done. The girl just won’t shut the fuck up, She’s being touchy and making him uncomfortable.
Ok, yeah, he’s very done. He’s done. She pushed of the girl out of his lap.
“I’ll be leaving Manjiro. Tell sanzu that i have an s/o. I think he have forgotten. Please excuse me” He walked out of the bar. He can’t believe he spent more than 45 minutes inside.
Entering the penthouse, it was silence…looks like you’ve already slept and didn’t wait for him.
But no, he spotted you in your shared bedroom, the blanket coiled around your body.
“Good Evening baby!” He greets you but he didn’t get any respond.
“Have you eaten dinner?” He tried building up a conversation again but again no respond. He brings himself to the bed even though he hasn't taken a bath. “Baby, What’s wrong?do you want something?”
“You cheated” that was your first two words to him tonight and he was confused…”Pardon?”
“My friends saw you inside a bar, one of roppongi’s bar.”
“Baby…it’s not like that, i’ll explain everything to you.”
“Then what is it? Explain this picture!” You showed him your phone that has his face and a girl face.
“I’ll explain, please calm down. Don’t want my baby to be angry with me.”
“Stop calling me baby. It's annoying.”
He started explaining that it was sanzu’s fault and not his. He told you that he was forced and he would rather cuddle you all day instead of going to a bar.
“It’s Your fault too. You should’ve rejected the girl!”
“But sanzu is high and i can’t reject it because he might kill me. That psychopath is annoying. Even manjiro and kokonoi can protest that i didn’t do anything wrong. Let me make it up to you.”
“I swear to god, haitani. You better tell the truth or i’ll kick myself out of this penthouse.”
“But im telling the truth. Please don’t be jealous, princess. You know you’re the only one.”
“Yeah, yeah. Go sleep in the guest room. No cuddles for three days too.”
“What?No! I want my cuddling privileges. I’ll ditch my works for three days, just let me have my cuddling privilege. I won’t take no as an answer.”
“Who are you to control my answers?”
“Your soon to be hubby”
“Mmm fine, though you need to stop being horny and leave my pussy alone.”
Ran was thankful you listen to his explanation but no fucking for three days?can he really do that when you really look good on your night gowns, it’s not even a sexy night gowns…it’s more like a cute one.
Rindou Haitani
Rin doesn’t have time to cheat on you. He knew that once he cheated it would be all over, he would be alone again in this lonely world, he isn’t implying that ran makes him feel lonely. He just knew that one day ran would have his own family, rindou can’t just stand being lonely, one companion would be fine, as long as it’s you he would be fine…he doesn’t need much companion. He promised to himself that he would never entertain other girls except you. 5 years. Rindou and you have been dating for 5 years. It would never be that long if you two didn't trust each other.
Rindou promised to have a dinner date with you.
7 pm…8 pm…9 pm…3 hours have passed, yet, still no rindou. You already knew and yet you made yourself look like a fool. You knew he was talking to a girl, Calling her. You wanted to confront him. But you just can’t bring it up because you don’t want to destroy that “five years” relationship. You noticed already with his reasoning like “I'm sorry sweetcheeks. but i'm kinda busy…manjiro has so many tasks assigned for us. You understand that right?” of course you do. You always knew that he’s not a normal person, he’s a person with power but to have that he needs to do something that can risk his life. You were on your way out…you’ve embarrassed yourself enough. For the past 3 hours the waiter have been asking what’s your order but you keep insisting that you’re waiting for your boyfriend…the waiter goes to your sit for more than 6 times. You keep on walking, not until, you spotted your boyfriend…ready to face you. Rindou spotted you quickly. You’re supposed to hide but nevermind he already saw you. As he approach you he started talking “Hi sweetcheeks…i’m sorry for being late. I was just busy with paper things”
“I know. Also, i tried calling you but you didn’t answer.”
“Wait…my phone was not ringing. Let me check it” he opened his phone then boom 12 missed call and 8 messages. Your head was full of thoughts…what if he’s really cheating? Why would he even silent his phone, he wouldn’t do that but if he’s cheating behind your back then…he would definitely do that. It’s either he don’t want to be disturbed while working or fucking someone behind your back.
“Hey, hey, baby…don’t overthink. Let’s talk about this in my car, should we?” You walked with him to his car…you don’t want to be one-sided and just listen to your own thinking. You want him to explain what’s going on. You two were walking with silence, just silence. No greeting him or asking him how his work is.
You entered and sit on the passenger seat.
“Now mind explaining?” you started because you know that he would never start a conversation.
“Again, i was busy…i’m sorry, i’ve forgotten about our date. I was just stresse–”
“No, not that. I know you are cheating.”
“Sweetcheeks?What do you mean by that?” rindou was shocked because you’ve never accused him of cheating before. He’s making himself calm because he know being angry wouldn’t do anything good.
“You’ve never silent your phone and i always hear you talking to a girl before you sleep and every morning too”
“Hey baby…I would never cheat on you. I’m not cheating. That girl was my new secretary, he was assigned by mikey…I already told Mikey that I don't need an assistant and I can work at home…so that i can be alone. Alone with you. You know that I hate working with other people, right? I would prefer you watching me while I do paper works. I’m not cheating, you can check my phone right now…i hate how that girl possess too, she’s just annoying. She would call me for literally no reason that’s why i put my phone on silent mode…please don’t be upset and don’t leave me too.” that was a long ass explanation. But it was great that he explained it neatly
“Ok, mister long ass explanation”
“I’m just reassuring you that i would never cheat. Now, let me make it up to you.” he start kissing your collarbone, caressing your thighs “You look so sexy on this outfit, sweetcheeks. You should wear skirts oftenly but to bad im just gonna rip it apart but don’t worry i’ll replace it with a new one” He removing your shirt and bra, just so he would see your perked up nipples.
His hands thats’s on your thighs started going upwards and sided your underwear…”So slutty, not wearing shorts underneath…really slutty, just for me, ok?”
“Just for you.” his BMW car is good for activities like that, it’s kinda spacious. He let you moves to his lap and now you can feel his bulge…”i’m sorry for accusing you, rinnie”
“ ‘ts fine baby…now shut up and let me fuck you good” Poor you…goodluck, you now can’t walk for 3 days…he made you jealous, you made him upset…now he’ll give you some good dicking down. Right now, right there.
© 2022 by s-hera━ all rights reserved! comments, likes, and reblog are highly appreciated. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.
#tokyo revengers hcs#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers headcanons#tokyo revengers#tokrev#tokyo rev x reader#tr anime#tokrev x reader#tokrev x you#tokyo revengers x y/n#tokyorev headcanons#ran angst#haitani ran#ran smut#ran headcanons#ran x reader#rindou x reader#rindou smut#rindou angst#rindou headcanons#rindou haitani smut#ran haitani smut#ran haitani scenarios#rindou haitani scenarios#ran haitani x reader#rindou haitani x reader#tr x y/n#tr x reader#tr x you#tokrev smut
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"𝖐𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝖒𝖊 𝖘𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖞" — suna rintarou ;
𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: suna rintarō is so much more than his bored eyes, the blunt between his lips, and his tendency to slack off—luckily, you're one of the very few people who know this; especially after he comes home to you sullen after finding out he didn't make it to the olympic players.
𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖘: female reader. fluff—established relationship. angst if you squint. comfort. mention of drug use. like, one swear word.
𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 2k
𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖙'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊: in lieu of the influx of toxic stoner!suna content, i offer you a piece of appreciation towards him and all that he is. i was meaning to post this in my new blog but i thought there's so much of you here who would appreciate and need this more. written on a whim at 1AM and didn't proofread so for any errors, gomen. repost because tumblr tagging hates me. cross posted on ao3 under the same username. original post here. this was written before we got information that he actually made it to the olympic team. furudate really told me to stfu, huh?
It's you who find out first that there is truly so much more to Suna Rintarō than his expressionless exterior, sleepy eyes, and bored gaze towards even the most ridiculous situations. It's when his self assured stance dwindled as he walked towards you once upon a time, introducing himself first before asking you for your number.
"My number?" You echoed his request, trying your best not to gawk at his attractive features and six foot two stature towering over you so easily; making you feel oh so small. (Which is funny, given that you were already standing straight on your heels.)
"If you don't mind, 's cool if you say no," he replies, tearing his gaze from you as if he was actually anxious you'd say no.
It's funny, really. It's not every day a famous pro-athlete known for both his good looks and skills walk up to you, asking for your number and actually considering you'd say no to him and his pretty features—in fact, nevermind that he was pretty, it was more the fact that he wasn't so full of himself to actually think you wouldn't say no.
That's what makes you nod your head; your heart already beating right out of your chest as he gives you a lazy grin and his phone to press your number in. When you're done, you hand it back to him and you mentally pat yourself at the back for not visibly trembling.
"Y/N?" He reads your name from the contact information, and good God, did your name sound so beautiful coming out of his mouth. He doesn't wait for your reply anymore, looking back at you from his phone, the lazy smile still across his lips as if he knew it was a heart killer.
"Thanks, I'll text you later," is the last thing he said before he walked away from you.
It didn't take long for you to fall in love with someone like Suna Rintarō—underneath his detached personality also lied someone who was truly passionate with the things he set his mind to, gave his time to. Like you or volleyball or the video game he's been waiting to release for a whole month—it only had to be something or someone who was special enough, then, he would give it his all.
The smoke that filled his lungs occasionally did nothing to lessen your own intoxication of Suna Rintarō and his passions—because every exhale, his dark green eyes would meet yours and oh so easily, he offers you that same lazy smile yet one that was dripping with affection.
"Should you even be smoking that, Rintarō?" You had questioned him before, about the second time you've seen him put the rolled blunt in between his soft lips, inhaling it.
"It's a once in a while kinda thing, you don't actually think I'd sacrifice my career for this don'tcha?" He grins at you, amusement flooding his usually bored eyes — now glazed over with the effects of the weed—from the way he gazes at you with an eyebrow raised.
It's when you realize that Suna Rintarō was independent and knew what he was doing—did what he did with full awareness, full control, full flexibility. It's as if who he was in court was who he was in person as well.
"You're really interesting, y'know that Rin?" You had mumbled against his chest once before, it was at the first few months of dating—he had one of his arms around you with you cuddled on his side, watching a movie from his couch.
"Yeah?"
"I mean—you've always been so good at what you do, huh? But you still work for it."
"What makes you say that?" You can feel him looking down on face against his chest.
"C'mon, don't be silly. You were scouted at middle school and you only got better as you grew up!" You say, finally moving your head to meet his gaze.
But all you get is a flick on your forehead and his low chuckle, "'s not that deep, y/n," he answers.
But you already knew better.
Suna isn't one for words, and no matter how much you insist that he was beyond the description of words, he only rolls his narrowed eyes at you. You find out Suna Rintarō, your boyfriend, was a huge inspiration during your sixth month together when you finally met his little sister.
It's hard to say it wasn't amusing how snarky she was, just as he was to his friends whom you've met a few times before—Atsumu and Osamu Miya, you remember. She's quick with her tongue, easily retorting back to her brother's comments.
"Are you sure you didn't just pay Y/N-san to be your girlfriend, nii-san?"
"Nah, you still jealous I came out prettier than you?" Suna bites back, a teasing grin plastered across his face. His sister only scoffs, looking back at you.
"You can tell me if he blackmailed you to come here!" She attempts to whisper. You're not sure whether you should be worried or continue to laugh, but you do neither as you choke on the drink you were sipping on right as she told you this.
"Shit, Y/N," Suna curses as you cough, your throat burning at the drink's intrusion, but Suna's quick to rub soothingly against your back as he offers you his water, his eyes glazed over in panic.
"You okay?" He asks when you stopped coughing, and you nod in response—throat remaining slightly sore. Suna lets out an aggravated groan, "Be careful next time," he manages to scold you, but oddly enough, his words remain saccharine.
There's something about the way that his little sister doesn't seem the least bit surprised with his reaction that somehow lets you know that perhaps, Suna Rintarō might just be quite the caring brother behind closed doors.
After that, it was when Suna excused himself to take a call from his manager, leaving you with his sister.
"Hey, nee-san, promise you'll take care of Rin-nii? You won't break his heart, will you?" His sister asks, eyes gleaming with something akin to hope, expectation, wonder. It easily takes you by surprise.
"Don't you worry, I'll promise I'll take care of him, promise I won't break his heart," your voice easily softens, nodding. His little sister's gaze remains on you, as if she's assessing you and as if she would easily tell whether or not you meant the words that came out of your mouth.
It makes you hold a breath until she nods slowly, smiling at you lightly just as Suna comes walking back, eyebrows raised, knowing he must've missed something.
"Whatcha girls talkin' bout?" He asked as he slipped back on his seat beside you.
"None of your business, obviously," his sister quickly answers.
They're truly quite similar, it's enough to make you smile and get through meeting his little sister until both of you dropped her off back to the train station.
"What'd she tell you?" Suna nudged you after seeing her train leave.
"Nothing, Rin," you answered with a wide smile, leaning up to place a chaste kiss against his lips—yet just as you pull away, one of his hands has found its way behind your neck, pulling you back to him.
You never thought a kiss could feel so loving before—but it really seemed as if Suna Rintarō had a knack for proving you wrong, over and over again.
It was the day that the Olympic team was announced when you see so much more of Suna Rintarō. Quick like the blink of an eye, or lightning that leaves the thunder chasing it; Suna felt the exhaustion, the pressure, the burnt-out feeling that's been repressed in the back of his head. It comes to him, crashing down like boulders not just on his shoulders but weighing down every part of his body.
Did he lack somewhere? He wonders. Where did that lacking end and start? What could have he done? Was it training, where he spent most of his time now? Suna had end up seeing you less and less since the drafting of olympic players started and you've been nothing but patient.
What was he supposed to tell you? After all the time it has stolen away from you—that he didn't make it?
When he opened the door to your shared apartment, he doesn't look up at you with a relieved sigh as he usually would—he avoids you gaze entirely, he avoids your observing eyes from the couch you sat on, watching him slowly shrug his shoes off.
"I'm just gonn—" he started, about to make an excuse to avoid looking at you.
"Prepared your bath, Rin. C'mon," Suna hears you say but it doesn't sink in his head, watching you take his hand, leading him to the bathroom.
Suna remains silent as he looks down on the bath you prepared for him, warm and inviting.
"Meet me in the kitchen when you're done, okay?" He hears you say, followed by the echo of your footsteps walking away.
You easily understand that Suna Rintarō was more than his talents, his efforts, and every little thing about him when you feel his large arms wrapped around you, his broad chest pressed against your back and his face buried on the crook of your neck. His fresh scent right out of the shower engulfing you and invading your senses, flooding you with him.
"'m sorry, bunny," he mumbles.
"You have nothing to be sorry about, Ri—"
"It's odd, thought I'd pull it off, thought it'd be nothin' if I didn't make it. Don't know why I'm so upset right now," he continues, cutting you off, "Been so patient for me too, bunny. Thought I'd be nice to make you proud, ya know?"
Your sigh comes out sharp from the heavy feeling from your chest, not knowing what to do to make him feel better—like he did with you, always knowing his way around your low moments.
You wriggle out of his arms, making him grumble until you fully face him. He looks back at you with a small frown, eyebrows furrowed, watching your expression.
"I'm always proud of you, Rin. Olympic player or not, you make me so proud," you speak softly, your hands cupping each side of his face.
"Don't even get why it matters to me this much, it's just—" it was your turn to cut him off, tipping your toes to press a lingering kiss against his lips. Suna smiles against your lips, carrying you to sit on the kitchen counter like he always did—knowing you always would have to tip on your toes to reach him.
Soon, the lingering kiss turns slow and passionate—lips softly grazing the other, and it feels more like pouring the heavy weight of love out of your chest and into the other. A kiss so loving, so reassuring, so passionate—the kind that easily takes your breath away and makes your mind go blank. When Suna pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. You smile at him because it's all you can do when your heart feels like it's going to leap out of your throat just to offer itself to him entirely—and Suna smiles back at you, pecking your lips before wrapping his arms around you again, resting his chin on your shoulder.
You run your fingers through his hair, hoping it would help soothe him, and then you say, "I promise that you'll make it next year, Rin. I'll be with you now, and I'll still be with you then."
It only makes him hold you tighter, closer to him, "I love you, Y/N."
"I love you, Rintarō. You deserve the world and all the stars in the galaxy."
"'s too bad there's nothin' more I need than you, then."
That's what Suna tells you—Suna, who was smoke in his lungs, dumb videos of the twins to blackmail them with, little mistakes, bored eyes, and lazy attitude. The same Suna who was slow kisses, passion, and genuine smiles reserved for you—the same Suna who gave his passions his all, the same Suna who held you securely in his arms every night, the same Suna his little sister admired. Most of all, the same Suna Rintarō you loved with every beat of your heart, every fibre of your being.
📞 violet is calling... all content featured belongs to ©️ animatedrapture. do not plagiarize, repost, or modify.
#suna x reader#suna rintarou#haikyuu x reader#suna#haikyuu#suna rintaro x reader#haikyuu imagines#rintarou suna#suna fluff#haikyuu fluff#suna Rintarō#;cloud#IM SO PRESSED!!!#so anNOYED!!#GODDAMN HAD TO REPOST
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🌸🍡Taehyung with a chubby darling🍡🌸
In which our best boy reacts to having a bashful girlfriend who happens to be volumptous and curvy... and chubby and soft... and he finds it to be SO SEXY she has no ideaaaa! *Y/N insert story!*
Some NSFW but mostly SFW, some angsty self image views, but soft and fluffy praises. Not requested, but I felt like doing it for a little self-gratification since he'd likely be exactly like this... enjoy lovelies~ 😚
All of my work is labelled under the hashtag #fictionalmenmistress, in the tags 🌸🍡🌸
"Hey baby~" Taehyung devilishly smirks, tucking his head into your shoulder.
"AHH!" You shriek, as your boyfriend squeezes you from behind. You pull out your earbuds and pause your music, spinning around to face him before you. "You SCARED me, Taehyung!"
Taehyung softly chuckled, taking you into his arms. "Awwww my baby... I'm sorry." He cooed, not taking your scolding seriously.
You pull your face away from his gentle hands, as he leaned closer to cup your cheeks... but pouts when he's denied.
"What if a sasaeng broke in and grabbed me or something? Its scary enough to be in such a big house all by myself, you know I'm always looking over my shoulder... because I'm scared of ghosts, and stuff going 'bump' in the night."
"But not us going 'bump' in the night, right?" He mischeviously smirks, taking your hand into his, examining your face with half-closed, lulled eyes.
"Taehyungieeee-" you whine, playfully scolding him to pay attention, as a blush surfaces over your whole face. "You know I scare easily."
"I do too, precious." He quietly assures, before groaning. "OKAYYYY, I won't suprise you off guard anymore... no matter how cute or amusing your reaction may be-" he murmured in submission, letting out a long sigh. "Can't I just... hold you now?"
You blush, as he guides your hand to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss against the back of your hand. "I missed you all day... you're usually with me at the studio, or waiting with those yummy muffins after dance practice."
You giggle. "You mean the ones I lie to PD-nim about? Saying they're faux muffins, that are really veggie-based, to enhance protein and carb burning?" You ask, lifting your eyebrows in an amused way.
"Yeah, those ones..." Taehyung sighs with a pout. "All the guys love them... even Mister Bang now."
"He does, doesn't he?" You grimace, remembering the tray you made their boss recently, per-request. "I feel bad about lying, now that he thinks they're okay to eat all the time..."
"NOOO we can't lose our muffins!!" Taehyung playfully whines, clinging onto your arm. "He'll make us diet if he knowssss!"
"It sounds like you miss my muffins more than me." You smirk.
Taehyung scoffs, shaking his head, before planting several, slow kisses, up your arm.
"No, there's nothing I wouldn't give to have you by my side. Every day... muffins or no muffins." He giggles, towering over you and gazing into your eyes. "I missed you today."
"I missed you too, Tiger. I had been needing to do some artwork for my webtoon panels." You smile, booping his nose. "I'm trying to build an audience for my own work!"
Taehyung gently groans, pulling you in close by your waist. "You know... I can reccomend it to army on weverse or twitter. You've always been the best story teller I know... so its not like I'd be making up any praises about how amazing it is..."
You run your fingers through his soft hair, as he nuzzles into your neck. You can feel his breath slowing, huffing against your skin to breathe you in. He sends a shiver down your spine, slowly squeezing his hands over your hips, almost like... he's kneeding dough.
"Tae... y-you know I want to make something for myself..." you blush, as his hands sensually explore their way up your back. "I want to have self-made sucsess, doing what I love. It means a lot to me, to say that I did it, without anyone's help."
"Mmmm... my pretty little buisness CEO... I love it when you're ambitious and driven."
You scoff, wriggling in his hold. "Oh please, Tae... I'm not little, c'mon." You blush, this time out of embarrasement.
He can feel your body grow stiffened in his arms.
"Why can't I just praise you?" He whispers, almost saddened that you won't accept the admiration.
He leans back and stares into your eyes, with a small childish pout of dissapointment on his lips. His eyes are big and glossy as they penetrate your soul... like that of a puppy.
Its so wonderfully strange how he can look so intimidating and sexy sometimes... then all of a sudden so soft and baby-ish.
And right when he had you where he wanted you, softening your attention to be on him and distracted... of COURSE he would try to snag a move on you again. There went his large, manly hands... gently gripping and easing into a subtle squeeze on your waist skin... before sliding so slowly and delicately down to your bubbly buttcheeks.
Ah those thick buns and 'thicc' thighs. You love them then you hate them... they jiggle when you move, they always have. And... they have those small dimples in them. You always felt hesitant to let your boyfriend touch the soft spots, worried he may be turned off by the texture of your squishy skin, or how your body isn't tight like his own body. And yet... his gaze and hands always wandered there most... he was so needy for those areas, always trying to weasel his way into exploring them.
You were pretty confident about your big breasts, however. Those didn't make you feel like 'too much' for him. Well... besides the faded stretchmarks from them growing so quickly during middle school. Puberty... it just kinda hit you like a truck. You went from looking like a scrawny child to looking like a shapely woman with a baby doll face.
Parents would get mad at you trick or treating, assuming you were a college student dressing up and requesting candy. And those pervy older men were always such a pesty, creepy problem. All this to say, you became very aware of your body, very fast. Your other classmates were still skinny and shapeless, with more boxy frames than curvy frames, and none of the boys in your class ever seemed to be attracted to you, over the girls like them.
As Taehyung has said once before though... a young boy wants to knaw on bones, while a grown man hungers for the meat.
"Did you just compare me to meat?" You asked him after the fact.
"No! No... that's not what I..." He giggled, shaking his head. "Its just an old saying, that I only really understood when I grew up. Basically, women with shape are the sexiest to men... but teenage boys are attracted to a more child-like, thinner look." he quietly said.
His words echoed through your head, before you attention re-gathered in the moment happening now.
"You're little to me..." he innocently cooed.
Yes, I suppose height-wise you were shorter than your tall boyfriend. But you always wondered if you looked too... big... standing next to him. He was so lean... with practically no fat on his firm, toned body. But you were soft all over. And seeing Taehyung at award shows... surrounded by all of those dainty, tiny girlgroup idols... they looked like they could fit in his hands. But you... you felt so big sometimes, with your foreign genetics.
Taehyung never seemed to care, and he never said anything but praises, but you still wondered in the back of your mind. Did he think you were too much for him?
Taehyung liked a challenge. The more you shyed away, the more he pressed into you, cradling you in his grasp. (He knew the difference between you being shy versus being non-consenting, and NEVER went against your limits or desires. He read people quite well, especially you...)
"Taehyung..." you gulped, feeling your lips trembling to get the words out. "D-do you think I'm... f-fat?" You stammer. The look on his face is almost appalled, angered. Who would make you have such a false impression?
"What?" He repeated. "Fat? Absolutely NOT." He corrected, tilting up his chin confidently.
"B-but... according to Korean standards..." you muttered, beginning to ramble now that pandora's box had been opened. "I'm-"
"Don't say it." He coldly ordered. "Korean beauty standards are unrealistic and drive even the skinniest and prettiest of Korean women to get surgeries that promise an 'ideal image'. But, everyone is perfect exactly as they are. I know you know that, and you know I know that too. So, screw what advertising comanies call the 'ideal image' in my country or yours. Ideal image, my ass."
"Taehyung!" You gasp, suprised that he swore. Your boyfriend wasn't one to swear... it was a rare quality about him.
The way he worded it made you chuckle at a realization.
"Well, your butt is indeed the ideal image..." you murmured, making Taehyung smirk to see you amused and feeling a little better.
"I'm glad you think so, Jagiya~" he cooed, guiding you to the couch without his arms leaving your waist. You trusted him wholly, to guide you backwards, or anywhere.
Taehyung suddenly slipped his arm under one of your knees, making you yelp as he pulled your thigh up against the side of his body. He confidently smiles all the while, his intimate gaze never leaving your eyes. You feel his hand squeeze the thigh, and you could tell he was doing it less for support to lift you onto the couch, and moreso to feel your volumptuous form in his grasp. Ohhh he loved your thighs... your soft, lovely thighs...
He slowly leaned into you, guiding you to recline back onto the expensive, large, comfy couch.
You giggled, as he leaned all of his body onto you, squishing you playfully under him.
"Taehyung!" You laughed. "You're squishing me!"
"I want all of my body to be against your perfect body." He sweetly grinned. "There's not an inch of me that doesn't belong to you."
"Well, you're suprisingly heavy..." you playfully pout, succumbing to the comortable pressure his body was pressing into you. It was arousing, actually...
"And you're suprisingly light." He gently remarked, flipping you both so you were on top of him. You knew he didn't mean that in a bad way.
"Or you're just strong..." you sighed.
"Maybe I'm strong... but your body is perfect to me. The way you FEEL..." he began, greedily squeezing his palms over the softest parts of your thighs. "The way you LOOK..." he hungrily growled, almost an octive deeper... sending a shiver through your core as he drank in the image before him. His eyes widened as they scanned over your bouncing large breasts in his view, as he watched you sit up, straddling him as he lied there. The smile on his face was pleasured, pleased. He was a happy man to have you on top of him, no matter how light or heavy you were... he WANTED you to press your lovely form into him. "The way you walk... so bouncy and sexy... I feel jealous about how the hyungs check you out when your back is turned." His voice turned devilishly lower... deeper... as if wrathful for revenge. "Its a crime that any man gets to see your godess-like form standing before them, besided me."
"Th-they do that?" You blush, not realizing the rest of the boys saw you in that way.
"Mhmm... all of them do. Its soooo not fairrr..." he grumbled under his breath, almost purring as he took in the sight of your squishy tummy against his chest, and your juicy thighs around him. "Kitten~" he desperately sighed. "I get so HARD, just IMAGINING how you look IN clothes that cover you completely... let alone the f-fantasies of you naked~" he humms, with a hitch in his breathy whispers.
"Hh-huhh..." he sighs, his breath hitching again, as his eyes lazily roll into the back of his head, before re-drifting back down onto you. Just the remembrance gets him THAT hot and bothered??
"For realsies?" You coyly, bashfully ask.
"Of course, kitten. Would I lie to you?" He asks, raising his eyebrows with a confident smirk.
"Maybe... if it would make me feel better..." you dissapointedly assume.
He sits up, supporting himself on one of his arms, making his chest press against your breasts through your shirt. You were face to face now... just staring into one another's eyes.
"NEVER." He assured. "I would never lie to you. There's no reason for me to lie to make you feel better, Jagi. You're literally a goddess."
You feel your cheeks flume red. "G-goddess?"
"Yes! Renaissance masters didn't sculpt ideal greek godess statues with soft curves for nothing..." he grumbled, blushing at the sight of your innocent face.
"Ohh Taehyungie..." you dreamily sighed, leaning fully against his chest as he slowly lowered you both down, to lie against one another horizontally.
"The way our bodies are so different... the way yours is so soft comared to how hard and stiff mine is... its perfect." He gently cooed. "I'm surpised that you're so comfy in my arms."
"Oh Tae, you're my safe place. I love how you feel... I love how you hold me." You intimately whispered.
He stared deeply into your eyes, as a gentle smile rested on his admiring, sculpted, handsome face.
"Didn't you find me during our Love Yourself era?" He asked, cocking a brow.
"Mhmm." You responded, rapidly nodding your head up and down in such a soft, innocent way.
Taehyung giggled, endeared at your cuteness. "Okay then. I want you to love yourself... because I love you. All of you."
He gently lifted your loose shirt up enough to grab onto your waist, running his hands slowly down the sides of you, to squeeze your soft tummy in his hands, his eyes practically glistening with desire.
"Ever inch of you... every hair, every patch of skin, every tint and shade, every texture. You belong to me, and you're the sexiest being in existance. And all of me belongs to you, only you, forever. Alright?" He romantically assured, gazing hopelessly into your eyes.
The soft smile that pulled into his lips, let you know the fullest sincerity of his tone. "Okay." You smile, leaning into his lips to kiss him.
Slowly, passionately you kissed, deepening the intimate act with every second. Soon enough, your hands were running all over one another, tilting your heads to reach your tongues into the deepest parts of your mouth. Body to body... you both were perfect, together and apart, exactly as you are... he loved you.
🌸 the end 🌸 (for more, visit my hashtag: #fictionalmenmistress in the tags 🥰 requests and headcannons are also open!)
#fictionalmenmistress#taehyung scenarios#taehyung imagine#taehyung kim#kim taehyung#kim taetae#taehyung#tae smut#taehyung headcanon#taehyung imagines#taehyung smut#taetae#bts#bts fluff#bts angst#bts x reader#bts imagines#bts fanfic#bts reactions#bts v headcanon#bts scenarios#btsv#bts v aesthetic#bangtan#bangtan sonyeondan#v smut#v imagines#soft taehyung#sub!taehyung#dom!taehyung
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𝐒𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬
pairing: liu yangyang x reader
now playing: foreign by trey songz
genre: very spicy and comedy.
requested by: @bigbrainenergytingz ❤️ (sorry boo this one is a little longer than I imagined, but I hope you enjoyed! )
summary: badboy!yangyang crushing on the new female foreign exchange student!reader. Slowly she starts to turn him on and he demands to see her in the library to give her a piece of his mind and body.
“Class here’s our new exchange student from the Dominican Republic! She’s staying here for the 6-month program and she’s a junior. Everyone please be nice and give a big welcome to y/fn. y/ln”
You slowly walk in adjusting your boarding school uniform you received in the dorm today. The skirt was uncomfortably tight and it revealed your legs so it made your walk slightly awkward, but the class didn’t seem to care since they were already staring at you admiring how lovely you looked especially the guy in the leather jacket sitting in the very back, yangyang.
“A pleasure to meet your class, I’ll promise to work hard and do my best.” Your English accent shocked everyone and made all the girls hype you up. All the guys fell in love with you even more, but of course, you had your eye on one man only the rebel, playboy, mastermind, and leader of the Wayv Biker Club Liu Yangyang.
“Bro she’s looking dead at you. I think she wants you, man.” Lucas nudges and ruffles yanyang’s hair as you walk right in front of him and sit at the desk right in front of him. Yangyang leans back and whispers back at Lucas saying “You think so huh? I’ve never done it with a foreign exchange student before. Let’s see what she’s all about.” He gives Lucas a quick fist bump and proceeds to give his attention back to you.
The whole class time, he kept his eyes on you, biting his lip thinking how he’s going to make his first move. As his fellow friend, Mark would always say “You got to seize the opportunity.” And just that he was fired up waiting for the perfect opportunity.
As soon as the bell rang, he ran up to principal Tate begging if he could shadow you around the school just so he could find a way to get closer to you.
Principal Tate rolled her eyes as she ignored to young man pouting at his suggestion. “Listen Yangyang, the last few times I let you shadow a new female student it becomes the talk of the town that you bang them, and then I have to talk to their parents about it over and over again.”
He blocks the door preventing her from getting inside the office. He whines again “Please, she’s different! I will seriously not get her in trouble this time. Can I at least show her the bottom floor of the school and I’ll let you live?”
The principal rolls her eyes one last time and writes a demerit slip as a warning in case yangyang doesn’t follow through with his task. “Fine, only show her the cafeteria, gym, and library, but that’s it. If you take any longer than an hour, then you are in big trouble. Got it?” Yangyang gives her a soft grin thanking her. “No need to worry principal Tate you have my word, see you tomorrow for my after-school detention.”
She shakes her head as he runs after you to your locker screaming your name like an excited school girl. “Ugh, how does his mother deal with him all day every day.”
…
He leans against your locker as he notices you grabbing your packed homemade lunch. “Hey I don't know if you forgot about me, but let me introduce myself. My name is Yangyang and I’m your shadow for the 2nd half of the day.”
You looked at him clutching your lunch box nervously, but at the same time smiling interested in spending your time with him. "Well might as well, you've been staring at me all day in class. Show me around."
Yangyang clears his throat responding back by saying "Uh, was I? My bad love, it's a bad habit. You can follow me Miss Y/Ln. Yangyang walks downstairs with you offering to hold your backpack showing you the cafeteria. The cafeteria of course had served the best expensive meals for students that prefer not to cook in their dorms and also have their tables separated by cliques. Yangyang just so happened to sit in the school rebels aka trouble makers section.
His friends Lucas, CJ, Samuel, and Hendery were smacking their lips eating their pork rice bowl as they see you walking across the cafeteria together with his arm wrapped around his shoulder looking lovey-dovey.
Hendery winked at yangyang and the rest of the boys cheered the two of you on loving how the two of you walk what seems like in slow motion in front of everyone. "Okay, then my boy getting him some. Make sure you meet tonight at the garage to fix our motorcycle like you promised."
Yangyang looks to the side slightly blushing at the boy's comments but gives them a nod before sitting right next to you.
"Sorry, sometimes my friends can be such idiots. Let's eat shall we." The boys moan and make sexual jokes in the background making fun of yangyang even more until he throws an onigiri at them leaving you laughing.
"No it's alright, I never laughed this much in a long time. You guys make the perfect group." Your laugh makes him melt into a bigger puddle making him spill his miso soup all over his pants.
"Oh no! I'm very sorry. Let me clean that off for you" You panic grabbing napkins out of the napkin holder and run to sit very close to yangyang wiping his pants aggressively.
He gulps looking very close to your eyes all the way down to your lap but instantly snaps out of it trying to keep his cool. "Oh no it's getting worst, what should I do?"
The more you wipe the harder time he is having controlling his urges. What made him snap was when you slide his leather jacket off to wipe the stain off his thin white dress shirt. "Okay, that's enough. I can't do this, you're coming with me."
He gets up quickly grabbing you with him speeding towards the library.
...
Yangyang closes the door behind him before checking if anyone dares to come inside. He takes you all the way back to the library back to the romance book section where all the so-called "hook-ups" usually happen and push you against the bookshelf.
He takes a deep breath and looks at you intensely saying "Now I got you where I want you. Why do you keep teasing me? I see right through you."
You finally sigh giving up the innocent act and unleash your true flirty, freaky and confident side. "So you've finally caught me huh. Well, it's not a secret all the girls want you here. So I figured I'd give it try besides your not the innocent one either."
You play with the buttons on his shirt making it harder for him to focus. "Your gonna get me in trouble again if you keep it up, missy."
You giggle and proceed by whispering in his ear in your accent that he loved hearing since you came to the school. "Well, you're the trouble maker for a reason. It won't be bad for one more day."
"I swear to" You cut him off by pulling his shirt down and kissing him softly. "Are you sure you don't want me? I can see it all over your face. Don't deny it just give in already."
Yangyang groans and lifts you up kissing you back against the bookshelf. His kisses become more wet leaving you out of breath and begging for more. He unbuttons your shirt leaving more wet kisses down your neck making you squeal.
"Shhh quiet down. People are trying to study." He teases when clearly no one is here. You slap him lightly and bring his face against your chest letting him play with your boobs.
To make the atmosphere hotter, he starts moving closer to you, lifts your skirt up, and starts grinding against you. "Mmmph, try to keep quiet now. I'll open the door back up and let the whole school hear you scream my name." He chuckles as his movements go slightly faster.
You wrap your arms around him tighter to keep his body as close to you as possible, but that ends quickly when the lunch bell rings.
"Shit- I forgot about Trigonometry!" You panic again as you adjust your skirt and button your shirt back up. You run to grab your backpack and give him one last kiss before running out of the library.
"I'm sorry babe, but can't slip up on my first day. We can continue this later. See ya." You wave skipping out of the library.
Yangyang pouts yelling "Wait, but I didn't get to cum yet. Ugh, man I can't wait to see her again." He smirks adjusting his leather jacket but realizes he smells the leftover soup all over his uniform.
"Crap, I still gotta clean this up."
taglist: @bigbrainenergytingz @purplepsycho03 @dreamyycore @melonmochimoon @soleilsuhh @dundun-baby @kpopsnowball
Send me an ask if you want to be added or removed from the tag list. ☕
#submission#kpop scenarios#kpop smut#kpop imagines#kpop drabbles#kpop blurbs#kpop reactions#wayv reactions#wayv smut#wayv imagines#wayv x reader#wayv x y/n#wayv x you#wayv drabbles#wayv fanfic#kpop fanfic#yangyang smut#yangyang drabbles#yangyang reactions#yangyang imagines#yangyang scenarios#yangyang x reader#yangyang x you#yangyang x y/n#nct smut#nct imagines#nct reactions#nct scenarios#nct blurbs#nct drabbles
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I'm not good at coming up with writing ideas, but do you have any wholesome prompt ideas?
Ok i only have one at the moment so i kinda didnt wanna spoil it but ehhh i probably would have forgotten its the ending e post anyway so here it is
That got long. This is liz back after finishing. Btw all my wholesome posts should be tagged “wholesome wholesale” i think. Ok hope you like this.
When the staff are finally informed of Ingos new form they are super shocked. Though it all makes sense now. Some of them quickly burry their face in there hands from embarrassment. Oh lord i called him a sweet cutie pie. Oh geeze i put a collar on him and said he was the most hansom lil baby. I BOOPED HIS SNOOT PLEASE LORD NO I WANT DEATH I BOOPED MY BOSSES SNOOT.
Others feel kinda bad about ya know treating him like a pokemon. They all apologise as a group. Ingo quickly tries to reassure them that hes not mad or anything but man cant talk “snee snea snee snea” one poor girl comes up crying to him because shes so sorry im so sorry i booped your snoot boss i swear i didnt know. Well thats met with laughter from everyone. Even Emmet and Ingo.
They all really like their bosses and greatly respect them so of course they feel a little bad about how they treated them. But they didnt know but they do know they gotta make it up to him. So they throw him a little welcome back party. Something small with just the staff, not just because its a secret but because they know Ingo and he wouldn’t want some big crazy party. They have cake of course but they also ask if Ingo wants to battle them? Hes always watching Emmet but since its jusy the staff he could finally join in. His team are very much so up for it and honestly so is he. He missed battling with his team so much. So he ends up battling them all and besting them all too. It may have been a while but his pokemon are much closer to him and he will never forget battling no matter when or where he is. Then of course Emmet steps up like a final boss. Emmet got verrrry excited watching his brother battle and he verrry much so wants a turn. Ingo too is excited to battle his brother again. So they do battle. Its intense. Emmet isnt going to hold back either. Hes at his best when excited to battle his brother. But he isnt ready for the communication Ingo has with team nor is he ready for Hisui hardened Ingo. Yea its a crazy battle to watch but in the end Ingo wins. All in all its a very fun time for everyone. Ingo finally feels back home after this. Sure hes been back a week or so but this makes it feel so resl. Battling again. Its been so long. Oh geeze is he getting emotional. Do we spy a tear in those sneasel eyes. Yes probably. Hes just so happy. Maybe he purrs a little. They all love their subway bosses and in that moment, seeing Ingo cry from joy, they all agree that no harm will ever come to their bosses again.
Thus the Ingo Protection Squad is formed. Yes they have tshirts.
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𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙘𝙤𝙢 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙠𝙮𝙪𝙪 𝙗𝙤𝙮𝙨
— characters: sakusa kiyoomi, ushijima wakatoshi, akaashi keiji, kenma kozume, kuroo tetsurou
— warnings: none
— tags: fluff
a/n: mm new blog, more brainrot :lipbite:
— S.KIYOOMI
stuck together trope
you and sakusa absolutely don’t get along and gave each other bad first impressions especially since your first meeting was at your engagement party
you both desperately try to break off the arranged marriage and piss off your respective parents, but in the process, feelings ensue
“this is it, we’re no longer engaged,” you say to the man beside you. his mask still covers half of his face and you’ve come to familiarise yourself with the almost perpetual frown he has.
“oh, come on! we’ve done so much and come so far and you’re still all grumpy!” you laugh, your hand reaches out almost instinctively, fingertips brushing against the wrinkle between his brows.
“s-sorry…” you stutter, retracting your hand quickly once you’ve realised what you’ve done. “that was an accident but i swear i’ve washed my hands.” you hold up both your hands in a surrendering gesture.
what shocks you however is that sakusa laughs.
his laugh is nothing but short huffs of air but you can see his eyes bend into cheery crescents as he nods, “i know,” he answers.
you feel your heart rate pick up as heat rises to your cheeks because goddamn does he have a nice laugh.
there’s a beat of silence as you find yourself locked in a staring contest with sakusa. his eyes don’t leave yours even as he pulls down his mask and takes a step closer to you.
you notice that his cheeks are flushed pink and there's a slight tremble to his bottom lip as he speaks.
"i know it's weird that we just broke off our engagement ten seconds ago but… would you go on a date with me?"
— U.WAKATOSHI
fake relationship trope
your creepy ex has been following you around, begging you to take them back WHILE in public
desperate to get away you grab the tall and quiet guy in front of you and beg him to pretend to be your boyfriend for five minutes and he obliges almost too easily and thanks to his intimidating stature he scares your ex away
but it turns out the entire school saw and now the two of you are being dubbed ‘couple goals’ and ushijima’s rabid fans are mad.
a deal is quickly struck between you two. he keeps your creepy ex away from you, and you keep his over-enthusiastic fans away from him.
“quick, hide!”
you’re shoving ushijima into the nearest hiding space you could find, which just so happens to be a janitorial closet, but he trips over a mop and brings the both of you crashing down.
your palms are stinging from the impact of your fall but you’re suddenly acutely aware of how you were half-laying on top of ushijima as he let out a pained groan.
“are you alright?” you manage to squeak out, trying your best to ignore the loud pounding of your heartbeat as it resonates in your ears.
“i’m fine, are you?” he asks. his deep voice sends tingles down your spine and you can only blush harder as he brushes your hair out of your face and gently tucks in behind your ear. his eyes rove over your face, assessing you for any injuries.
you swallow thickly as you nod in response to ushijima’s question, hyper-aware of how warm his hand is on your waist as he keeps you steady on top of him.
if it weren’t for the smell of cleaning products you would’ve considered this moment to be the most heart-fluttering moment of your life.
— A.KEIJI
friends to lovers trope
you’ve been neighbours with keiji for as long as you can remember and you’ve never felt any semblance of romantic love for him
it isn’t until he asks you for help in changing his wardrobe in order to impress his crush then you realise he’s very attractive
you can’t help the blushing and butterflies in your stomach every time you look at him and it hurts that it’s not you he’s dressing up for
“keiji? what are you doing here? what about your date?”
you’re in a state of mild panic as your neighbour-turned-crush stands at your front door with a bouquet of flowers in his hand and the outfit you had picked out for him earlier in the day.
you notice how his forehead has a sheen of perspiration to it and he’s slightly out of breath. his ears are as red as the roses in his hand but all you can think of is his poor date waiting for him at the promised venue.
“did you forget something? tell me what it is, i’ll get it for you just go to your date already!” you exclaim, pushing him towards the road.
“it’s you.”
you’re frozen in your tracks, still in your embarrassingly cartoonish pyjamas as you stare at keiji as if he had just grown an extra head.
"you're the one that's missing," he explains, his tongue darts out to wet his lips and you feel like you've ascended to cloud nine.
"i'm in love with you, y/n."
— K.KENMA / K.TETSUROU
love triangle trope
three best friends and a vow to never fall in love with each other
what happens when you receive a confession from kuroo the day you decide to confess to kenma?
"choose."
your gaze flickers between kenma on your right and kuroo on your left. the both of them are glaring at each other, chests rising and falling rapidly from the shouting match they were previously engaged in before you had stepped in.
kenma turns away first to meet your eyes. his gaze softens immediately as it lands on you and he gives you a small smile.
you barely had the time to smile back before warm fingers were wrapped around your left wrist, gently tugging you to face kuroo instead.
your breath hitches in your throat when you lift your head to meet kuroo's gaze. his hazel eyes practically bore into your soul as he stared at you wordlessly, lips pressed into a thin line. but you knew him well enough to read the anguish in his eyes.
"let go," you hear kenma speak from your right. his voice low and threatening.
his thin fingers feel cold around your wrist and you feel your heart sink further into the pits of your stomach.
how could you choose between the two?
"please... stop," you begin with your head hung low.
"i choose both of you."
hey! i hope u enjoyed this piece ^^ i’m a new haikyuu blog and i write x readers like this one! my requests are closed atm but if you follow me you’ll be the first to know when they’re open!
#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#sakusa kiyoomi#ushijima wakatoshi#akaashi keiji#kozume kenma#kuroo tetsurou#sakusa x reader#ushijima x reader#akaashi x reader#kenma x reader#kuroo x reader#haikyuu!!#haikyuu hcs#//omi-cafe-writes
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Soo, this was supposed to be posted yesterday but we all know how that went (thanks tumblr!)~
Anyways I don't know how many of you will still be lurking in the tag but now that this season is officially over, I really want to thank you all beautiful people that made this ride better and for interacting with me, I love you 💜 and I also wanna say a few words on the season (edit. I actually made it too long sorry-)
First of all no 💕, this season definitely wasn't a 10, barely a 7(lol) all things considered but I would be a lying liar to say that I won't miss everything about ISI and her purple world 💜. It was a very bumpy road full of many lows (god knows how much I hated the first part) and some high moments that I will always treasure 💜. Everytime I was on the verge of quitting the live watching, the next day I was still there, like an addict. And tbh I'm wondering if this season was really meant to be experienced like a mass hallucination that would leave us all the next morning somewhat high and confused at the same time (I mean this in the most positive way).
Yes, I was rooting for a solo season about Ismail from the moment I laid eyes on them in season 5 so you can imagine how thrilled I was knowing I would finally get that in season 7....sadly I still wish it would've been different like many of us, because Eren do deserve better and I'm sorry he had to actually fight for the bare minimum...either way, we gonna give it to them for bringing us the best Isi we could hope for 💜.
That being said, the moment the 'Best Friends 💚' clip happened...I felt something in the air but it was literally too soon to dare spoke about it, so I stayed quiet and I waited for something to happen, but smh it was Lou and the trio so yeah it's better to forget that plot line for my health, at that point I was mentally exhausted. To the point that when a clip with Sascha happened, the said night I'd dream about Sascha and Isi in all the possible situations that ofc would never happen in the season, I was that frustrated and actually in shock because I swear to god something so extreme as to dream about them almost daily, never happened to me with ANY pair I ever shipped or whatever. It was INSANITY at it best. I wanted to keep this to myself but who cares anymore right :)?
So anyway, when things finally started to work in that way I was and still am incapable of processing that...you know, Sascha and Isi are actually a thing now??? The fuckin wallpaper??? I was on the verge of loosing my hair when it happened yesterday, it still looks like the biggest fever dream I ever had and I'm actually grateful that Druck decided to give us that wallpaper the first day of 2022. It felt well deserved you know.
Actually since I am already here I just want to quickly mention that the very main reason why I felt an immediate connection to Sascha and Isi as pair, despite every negative comment that's being said in the tag, is because they are the first characters I saw that in terms of looks seemed legit the almost perfect fancast (Eren especially good god) for a pair that I'd die for in a trilogy of books that I read. The behavior and everything is different ofc but the looks...oh god, that was what made me feral in the first place and imagine my utter delight to see them actually be endgame here too like...it was a magical experience. As you can see not everyone has the same reasons to like a couple so get over it :)
Finally, Sascha is literally one of the best thing that for sure came out of this season, I'd love to have a ray of sunshine like him by my side and I would die to actually FEEL one of those hugs...god. We are really not going to see him with Isi's eyes anymore uh, actually depending on who's the next main we don't even know if we will see him AT ALL *hysterical laugh*. But seeing how much this character was well received...dare I hope? Do I have to pay big money myself to make sure Paul and Eren will still be doing their thing??? :)
Phew, that was a lot.....I believe that this is the most engaged I was for a skam remake in a LONG time. Hell, I never posted so much in a tag like I did in these 10 weeks since forever- It was truly intoxicating but at the end of the day I'm glad I watched this season in real time...I guess that was actually what Poison Isi was all about~
I really don't want to let them go, they are my children, that's why I'm still holding up hope for the next season to see more of them being gross and in love 💜
Damn Druck, you failed us A LOT this time around so for the love of God,
DO BETTER.
You owe us this much :)
*here a medal for making it this far🥇*
#druck#guys I'm so sorry for getting all over the place-#I just needed it to let it out of my sistem but damn it was A LOT#I'm really sorry but I do love you all and I will miss the hell out of this season#my post
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kiss me thru the phone — bakugo katsuki
— katsuki always calls you on the phone, making sure that it's his voice you hear when you wake and the one you'll listen to as you fall asleep.
pairing: bakugo katsuki x reader
tags: established relationship, swearing? cuz this is bakugo hehe. not proofread!!
genre: fluff, kinda angst
word count: 1.4k
a/n: 1/7 of the 200 follower event, i can just see him doing this lmao. sorry if the header doesn't look good, i tried my best (˘･_･˘) not at me saying i'll upload this yesterday night but it's already 2am here. it is what it is.
bakugo katsuki is a busy man.
even when he was in his UA days, you always see him training by himself and excusing himself early to go study and then eventually, sleep. his friends often tease him for being a grandpa and not having time to go and have fun, but when he met you that's when he really started to let himself free and experience fun things with his friends albeit he's masking it as having “no choice but to join” under the guise of watching over his friends as to not make themselves look like idiots, but you know better. you know that when he says he doesn't care, you understand the meaning that he actually does. and deeply too.
he's just a big tsundere who cares a lot for the people he loves.
now that he's a pro hero working his way up to the top, hectic times and cancelled dates cannot be helped. he has to always excuse himself and apologize over and over for not going to the date you both planned as promised and you always have to say that it's alright, that you understand over and over. and if anyone knew bakugo, it's that he would never settle for less. a simple ‘okay’ isn't enough for him.
so when you woke up one morning to the ringing of your phone and the rare photo of your lover smiling instead of your cacophonous alarm, you knew it had to be one of those days where bakugo was feeling particularly soft for you.
rolling over on his side of the bed, you answered the call with a smile on your face despite him not seeing it. the warm streaks of sunlight coming through the windows illuminated your face, making you shut your eyes for a moment.
“hi, baby.” you croaked, voice scratchy and raspy upon waking.
you heard his chuckle on the other end before he greeted you as well.
“good morning, sleepyhead. it's 10am already, you should be getting your ass out of bed,” he scolded you. you rolled your eyes as you lied on your back, staring up at the ceiling while you twirled a piece of your hair like a lovestruck schoolgirl talking to your crush.
“i know, i know. but the bed's still warm and i wanna stay in bed for a bit.” you whined, even pouting for effect that you knew he wouldn't resist.
you heard him click his tongue in annoyance at your statement. knowing him, he's probably shaking his head in disapproval at your lazy behavior.
“get the fuck out of bed or else your breakfast will get cold. you don't want to eat cold food, do you?"
“wait, you made me breakfast?” you felt your stomach do flips at the thought of bakugo waking up early and even having the time and effort to cook for you.
you heard him scoff at that, “course i did. i know your dumbass will complain about how i didn't cook you anything before i left if i didn't. so eat up, okay? i know i'm not always at home to eat with you and this is the only thing i can do to make you feel that you're not alone. and i'm sorry about that. i promise one of these days, i'll take you out for dinner, alright?”
he can only hear sniffles and soft sobs on the other end as you nodded.
“oi, are you crying?!”
“yes! why the hell are you so sweet? and it's too early for me to be crying like this!” you wailed, tears streaming down your face like a waterfall, trying your best to wipe them away with your night shirt.
“i'd like that very much. you're the best, katsuki. take care and good luck at work!”
“i know i am, babe. take care as well, don't wait up for me tonight, i'll call you.” you both bid your goodbyes with words of love before he hung up to do his hero work and for you to get ready for the day. you ate your breakfast with a smile on your face and heart feeling much fuller than your stomach with the thought of katsuki.
some days, when he's away on a mission, he'd love to call you randomly and he wouldn't even care if you're doing something or if you're busy. what he knows is that he needs to hear your voice more than anything.
on a particularly busy and dreadful day, bakugo had called you during work and you picked it up without second thoughts, worry already clouding your mind.
“tsuki baby!” you greeted in a joyful tone. your smile evaporated when he didn't return the sentiment.
“katsuki? are you okay? what's up, baby?” you tried to make your voice as soothing as possible, knowing that any other unwelcoming approach might set him off.
he sighed on the other end, and you can only guess what happened.
“i'm fine...just...i missed your voice,” his own had a low timbre to it, sort of a deep vulnerable tone he only let you hear when he wanted you to see his true self without the facades and the mask.
“i'm here now, katsuki. do you wanna talk?” being a pro hero can be stressful as much as he loves it. he's also human, and he can only handle as much when faced with a lot of obstacles in life.
“yeah, that'd be nice. tell me about your day, how are you?” he might be diverting the topic towards you instead but you indulged him in his request and started to tell him about your day – from the time you wake up to the time you arrived to work.
“oh! and um, i also bumped into my old friend a while ago. they asked me about you and i told them that we should meet up someday, you know, like a double date?”
“sure, yeah. i'd love to meet them. they seem like a cool person.”
“they are! anyway, what about you? anything happened in there on the mission?” you waited patiently for his response which he appreciated a whole lot than what you realize.
“it was okay. the mission was going smoothly with everyone helping and then...i just, we rescued this man and his...wife got–” he faltered, you heard him choke a sob through the phone and you can only wish you can hold him right at that moment if you weren't only miles away from each other.
“it's okay if you don't wanna continue, tsuki. i understand this is heavy for you. i'm sorry you have to suffer through that alone. i wish i can be there for you,” in your head, you're imagining that you're comforting him and kissing his worries away as he's nuzzling into your neck. and you'd tell him that everything will be alright and that you'll always be there for him.
“i'm sorry...thank you, for staying with me and being in my life. i wouldn't know what i'd do without you, honestly. maybe be the same asshole that i was before we met,” he joked, chuckling at the fond memory that felt like ages ago today.
“no worries, babe. you know i'm always here if you want to talk. i'll listen and you can never talk my ear off because i love listening to you sexy voice.” you teased, knowing it would make him as red as a tomato. the both of you laughed and it felt like you're together, probably at home as you lounged in the living room without worrying about anything.
“whatever. i like hearing your voice too, i guess. anyway, i gotta go in a few minutes. i'm calling again later before you sleep, make sure you don't doze off on me!” you can practically imagine the smoke coming out of his ears as he yelled at his phone.
“yes, yes, i will. i already told you i'm sorry! go kick some villain ass in there, baby. i'll be waiting for you back home.”
“good. goodbye, i miss you. stay safe and always lock your door and the windows! don't stay up too late or i'll swim there to make you sleep myself–”
before he went on a tangent about his usual scoldings you told him that you still had work to do and he can save them for later, but you felt warm inside knowing this is how he tells you he loves you without really saying them. time and distance may keep you away from each other, but your love can travel through great distances and defy all odds.
Taglist: @chibishae34
#sorry for posting late! 🤧#ugH what i wouldn't do to hear his voice through the phone <3#tarou writes 🌹#tarou at 200 🎉#bnha#bnha fic#💫. bakugo katsuki#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugo fluff#bnha imagines#bnha fanfiction#bnha x reader#bakugo katsuki
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❛ BLACK JACKET WITH WHITE LETTERS ❜
❚❙ REQUEST BY ANON: Would I be able to request prompt 16 “You're mine. I don't share”. With Hank voight where they go to one of those police events and she works in his unit and they are a couple with her being younger and they dont have to be in police uniform so she wears a really nice dress and as he introduces her and talks to other people he knows, some of the men check her out and try flirt with her and he notices. Could there be a bit of smut if not that's cool to ❤❤
❚❙ HANK VOIGHT MASTERLIST.
❚❙ WORDS: about 3k.
❚❙ Warnings: swearing, unprotected sex.
❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted.
❚❙ GIF credits: to my amazing @sonsofeorl.
❚❙ General tag list: @melblacc @rebelwrites @skyofficialxx @sesamepancakes @scarletsoldierrr @mondefantastique @that-chick212 @enbyamaro @inlovewith3 @ocetevasgirl @destynelseclipsa @miahelen @jadakiss13 @mcgreads @graniairish @teller258316 @i-love-scott-mccall @tclaerh. Hank Voight tag list: @sophie-writes. If you wanna be added to my tag list, send my a message! ⚡
Fortunately, it's been a quiet day, otherwise, you couldn't deal with a Districts event like the Commanders call them. A meeting that reunites every officer, inspector, detective, and whoever who wears ‘the blue uniform’; including special agents from the FBI. These last ones are the kind of man who pushes you out of your good mood with all that quackery about serving the whole country, the unlimited resources, the missions. Every time you hear a fed talking about how passionate and exciting their jobs are, you just want to punch their faces. Mostly, they're behind a desk while cops like you are protecting the streets of Chicago in the firing line. But, as Burgess and Upton said, it's time to have some fun. And anything else.
Since you don't have to wear that horrible uniform you use at official events, you have chosen a breathtaking black silk dress that fits your anatomy to perfection, falling from your chest, with a spaghetti strap neckline, to your ankles. And a pair of skyscraper highlights on the same color, with the small difference that the heels are tremendously golden. Your back is almost bare, being crossed by four fine strips, knowing it's going to give Hank some trouble. Oh, you're going to have so much fun tonight. You are very sure.
The soft make-up delights your cute, but lethal, outfit on point ready to leave Kim's house accompanied by your friends. You've arranged to meet at the party with the rest of the Unit since your future husband and Antonio needed to be from the start of the event, which means the three of you are going to earn more than some gazes by assisting alone, with no male figures by your sides. As if you need some kind of protection. Men (...).
Stepping out from your car and giving the keys to the parking attendant, who seems he's having a heart attack after watching you walk with so much cockiness and sensuality, you come into the party. The look you exchange with Kim and Hailey as soon as you check the reaction of the assistants, makes you draw a triumphant smile while raising your chin in some kind of greeting. You aren't going to stop now, leading your steps straight to your partners. Ruzek chokes on champagne with his eyes over Burgess, while Hank looks at you over the edge of his glass of bourbon taking a sip.
“You should work like that every day”. Antonio opines welcoming the three of you in his arms.
“I second that, brother”. Jay quickly adds making a toast with his cup of red wine.
“Bet you'd be the one who wouldn't work”. Hailey replies palming his chest, making you giggle.
In the meantime they continue arguing about the dress code, a strong arm gets placed around your lower back to push you somewhat closer, letting his hand fall over your hipbone. You know exactly what it means. Hank isn't the kind of jealous man, who needs to mark his territory like a dog. But you know that sometimes he feels insecure because of the age gap. He trusts you blindly, that's a fact, but he's human; he has fears and you understand it. Putting your left hand on the back of his neck, you caress his scalp almost unnoticeably, tilting your head to leave a gentle kiss on his cheek earning a satisfied grin from him.
“You look really beautiful tonight”. He whispers, watching you sideways as if it's a secret between you two.
“Thank you, Sergeant. I always try to do my best”.
Hank chuckles against his glass about to have a last sip till emptying it. Taking it from his hand, you pull yourself away to go to the bar and ask for two more drinks. You're thirsty and too sober to be a Friday night. Checking some emails on your phone while the bartender serves your order, you can't help but listen to some backtalk about your career. A couple of suited men combed as politicians and wrapped on a strong scent that throws your stomach. You try to ignore them until they're close enough from your position to offer you a hand in a formal greeting.
“Johnson and Derrick. FBI”.
The blonde one looks like a senior official, while the other looks like a newbie. Turning towards both, you come into the forced polite mood to stretch his hand firmly.
“(Y/L/N), Intelligence Unit, gentlemen. A pleasure”.
“The pleasure is ours, detective”.
“Special agent”. You correct him inevitably, even if it sounds arrogant.
“Special agent, of course”. Johnson replies with a nod of his chin. “I've read your file lately. I have no words to describe it. Graduated with excellent grades in Yale, two years in the Army, another undercover in a Cartel… And you also know how to fly a helicopter”.
“If you weren't from the FBI, I could think you've been stalking me like one of your serial killers, sir”. The sarcasm in your tone of voice earns your Unit's attention, very focused on the conversation between the feds and you.
“Who catches a monster without becoming one, right?”
The man introduces a hand under his jacket to offer you his business card. But you don't take it, just looking at it for a second before raising your eyes towards his.
“In your academy shows you to have the big balls to disrespect a Sergeant or a Chief, by trying to steal their officers in front of their faces? Because mine shows us to serve and protect the citizens”.
His gesture changes suddenly in a sight, hearing some chuckles behind you coming from Hailey and Kim. Raising both eyebrows as you don't get any reply back, you just nod before grabbing the two drinks you have asked for when they interrupted you. Coming back to your friends, you can't help but wrinkle your nose in a gesture of disgust earning more giggles from your partners. But it doesn't seem funny for Hank, who you know he's killing them in thousands of ways inside his head.
As the night passes, you notice Agent Johnson's eyes on you with no shame, starting to make you feel uncomfortable. Although you would be delighted to embarrass him in front of everyone, he has had enough from you. But this doesn't end there. Excusing yourself, you step to the terrace almost emptied to have some fresh air, knowing he's going to follow you. Maybe, to insist a little more. He was so interested in recruiting you to miss the chance.
And as you thought, he's that predictable. You don't turn because of his steps coming closer, but because he pretends to clear his throat to claim your attention. Crossing your arms over your chest, you tilt your head to a side feigning curiosity with a forced smile showing up on your lips.
“I would like to apologize for my behavior. In my profession isn't habitual to find agents of your characteristics”.
“For sure, sir. It doesn't matter”.
“You could have an extraordinary career in the FBI”.
“I already have it where I am. I don't need schedules, cheap suits, and an earpiece to succeed”.
“I understand your relationship interferes in your decision, but you do—”.
“I'm sorry, you said what? Did you…? Oh, god, I can't fucking believe it”. You can't help but laugh shaking your head. “I don't have any relationship as soon as I wear my badge, sir. And you are starting to cross a line you don't want to cross. Believe me”.
“Ma'am, don't misunderstand my words, nor my intentions. I just think ma—”.
“Nobody asked you to think, Johnson”.
Raising your eyes over his shoulders, you can see your boyfriend sipping his glass of whisky, joining the talk as he tries to keep calm. You know Hank to perfection. If he wasn't your boss, he would have punched him already.
“If you continue pissing off my agent, we're gonna have a problem”.
The man just nods, alternating his gaze between the two of you. Seems that he has admitted his defeat.
“Beautiful and lethal. You're a son of a bitch with so much luck, Voight. Take care of this diamond. Or she will end up wearing a blue jacket with yellow letters”.
“Uh-huh”. He replies as you continue remaining silent.
Passing your boss away back to the party, leaving you alone, you can't hide the proud smile that turns your gesture into a funnier one. Taking short steps towards him, you steal the glass from his hand to drink from it under his attentive brown eyes.
“Blue isn't my color. Not at all. I'm more into black”. You whisper referring to the jackets you are used to wearing in the Chicago department.
“Hm…”
“Imagine having your badge hanging from your neck all day like a collar. Do I look like a dog? I prefer to have it on my belt. And I'm already used to the disgusting watered coffee we make in the twenty-one”. As you continue giving him more reasons, your forefinger traces a path up from his chest to his nape. “And I have so much fun driving my Dodge all around Chicago”.
“Anything else you wanna add?”
“Hm… no. Actually, not. That's all, sir”. You reply puckering your lips, pulling yourself away some inches with a playful aura wrapping you both.
“Now lemme tell you something here”. Hank says then, leaning over your ear. “You're mine, I don't share”.
His voice and his characteristic raspy voice gives you some chills down your spine bone. Biting your bottom lip unconsciously while he stands up, you know the party is over for you and it's time to go home. Holding your hand and taking back his glass of whisky, you walk inside to say your goodbyes before leaving the fancy place straight to the underground parking. You are not going to lie saying you don't love his dominant mood when the occasion demands it.
As soon as you reach your car, you can notice sideways Hank making sure you're totally alone. He doesn't usually take risks of being seen in public too lovey-dovey, but it's not about it this time and you can't wait for him to go ahead with his intentions. Of course, he doesn't make you wait for too long to push your back to the copilot door, attacking your neck in the meantime his hands grab your hips stealing you a low gasp. Hank makes himself between your legs, urging you to surround his waist with one of them to close the distance that separates you, feeling the need he has to mark his territory, as rarely he shows.
“Take me home”. You almost beg closing your eyes as his teeth are nailed on your most sensitive spot, earning a soft grunt that vibrates your body.
“I'm gonna take you here, sweetheart. Any problem?”
“Hell, no, sergeant”.
“Get in the car. Now”.
You don't complain, taking it as an order when he takes two steps back releasing your body and opening the back door for you. And the next minute passes too fast, rolling up your dress as Hank undoes his belt and unzips his pants. In just a sigh he's deep-buried between your legs. It's the first time you take this kind of risk, almost in public, and the horniness it produces is driving you crazy. With your lips almost touching the others, you moan uninhibited every time his hands on your lower back urge you to keep swinging your hips, sitting on his lap.
The way his eyes memorize every gesture drawn on your face has you breathless. It's a sensation you can't describe. Hank has some kind of power over you that you haven't experienced before, even if you think you're indomitable he always manages to make whatever he wants with you. And you know it. You let him do it. Just like right now, marking his territory with desirous bites and wet kisses all around your exposed throat. The most visible part of your body. He doesn't need to prove anything. He isn't the kind of man who needs to call out any other man who dares to lay his eyes on you. Everybody in this damn city knows you're more than his pupil and they're too scared to say hi, although there's always an exception to the rule. In this case, the FBI agents acting like carrion birds.
The mist clouds the windows, as the heat concentrated on your bodies makes you sweat slightly. Hank takes the control turning you under his body against the seat in a position that puts you to see the stars. Every move of his pelvis is accurate, hitting your g-spot, satisfied with how good his name sounds getting drowned between pleased moans once and again. With every push to your body, his dick is dug deeper through your tight wetness making him grunt into your ear, feeling more delighted than never before. And everything is because of the way you had to reply to that FBI agent in front of everyone, showing him how clear you have your preferences; not only because of your relationship, as Johnson pointed out. But because everybody in Chicago is aware that there's no better boss in law enforcement. There's no better Unit than the Intelligence one from the police department of your hometown.
As your legs get wrapped around his waist to pull him closer, one of his arms surrounds your middle back while his free hand flies straight to your throat. Keeping your eyes closed, the suffocating sensation within your lower belly continues growing with every thrust that steals the air from your lungs and races your heart over its possibilities. You're close. So close that your mind is a total blank, just focused on the way only he can make you feel. So good, so desired, so full of life. He knows it, he takes it in advantage. And he enjoys it more than anything.
“Oh, fuck…” Hank got you almost in tears because of the pleasure, traveling your hands to the back of his neck, nailing your nails there. “God… I'm gonna… Fuck, Hank, don't stop, please… Don't stop”.
“I won't, my love… Not till you give me what I want”.
His voice always plays dirty with your mind. The way he has to drag every syllable on his tongue with that husky voice that puts you to tremble, as he continues burying his hard dick inside you with no mercy, speeding up as soon as he feels your legs clung to his body slightly shaking. Because of the fewer insecurities he has about your relationship, he feels proud whenever he makes you reach that sweet sensation of the orgasm taking control of your anatomy. He doesn't care if he has to use his hands, his tongue… whatever. It's not only about sex between the two of you, of course not. But making you cum screaming out his name is an every-day-goal.
And you don't make him wait for too long, arching your back when a lash of heat hits your spine and the grenade inside your lower belly explodes. Your gasps fill up your car, while he continues fucking you harder than seconds before not showing any compassion to your exhausted body, looking for your lips to devours them desperately. His tongue starts a fight for dominance, winning over yours like every single time, in the meantime his fingers grips tightly your throat. Instinctively, you swing your hips in sync, provoking every move to go deeper among your shaky legs.
Hank can't hold it anymore, digging his cock to the limits of your guts, almost hitting your soul with a last strong lung. His warm seed fills you up completely, keeping pushing his body against yours, pressing both to the seat with his hands now placed on the headrest. It feels like a whole set of fireworks. Your moans complement his delighted growls to perfection.
“Don't move, please”. You beg with a thin voice thread, at the same time he rests his forehead on yours.
The two of you can barely breathe, trying to recover after an intense session of your favorite cardio workout. From nowhere, you can't help but giggle in unison. You can't believe you just fucked inside your car and with the risk of being caught in the act. A sergeant and one of his special agents. Even if it's your free night and you're in an established relationship, he's still your boss.
“I would miss working with you”.
“Huh?”
“If I get the FBI's offer”. You mumble, leaving clumsy kisses all around his face. “You're the best cop Chicago has”.
“You don't have to butter me up for a second round”.
Shaking your head briefly and laughing, you caress his scalp so gently as he sinks his face into your sweaty neck.
“Now you said so… maybe I have the fantasy of being bent over your desk”.
“Maybe?”
“Yeah, just… maybe”.
“Then maybe I could bring you to my office, before going home. There's some paperwork to attend to”.
#lemme know what you think in a comment! ⚡#chicago pd#chicago pd imagine#chicago pd x reader#one chicago#hank voight imagine#hank voight x reader#hank voight
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Fight so dirty 
A/n: don’t know how I feel about this one… feedback is always appreciated🤍
Ashton had been your boyfriend for 2,5 years so you would say that it's been going quite good, of course you have had your ups and downs but nothing out of the ordinary. Lately however he had been very possessive over you! And not to keen on you partying which you enjoyed. Standing in front of the full length mirror you tug at the tight fabric of the red dress you were wearing, you hair falling in loose curls around your shoulders, you looked good and you couldn't wait for your friends to pick you up. Sierra had invited you along to party at Niall Horan's house, you had happily agreed and expected Ashton to tag along with no problem but that had led to a huge fight where Ashton not so kindly had let you know that you had no business planing how he should spend his time off. So you talked yourself into going to the party alone, yeah you were a bit shy but that was nothing which alcohol couldn't change, and a part of you wanted to go so that you could show Ashton that you didn't rely on him.
You held on to the railing as you assented the stairs and your heels clicked with each step boosting your confidence. You know you looked good today, you were feeling yourself and couldn't wait to have a great time with your friends. You yelled out for ash to let him know that you were leaving, as he turned the corner his eyes scanned your body "are you not gonna wear any clothes out Y/N?" You look at him in disbelief, sure your dress was tight, and kinda short, but nothing out of the ordinary for a cocktail dress, you just huffed and grabbed your purse not giving him the power to ruin your night. Sierra honked at you, and gazed you up as you entered the car, a big fake smile across your face, the smile soon turned into a genuine one. At the party bodies where grinding against each other as you walked in, everybody were in a good mood, boosting your own. Sierra, Crystal, Michael, Luke and you all went to get a drink, allowing the bass to make your heartbeat match the beat, the liquid burning in the back of your throat as your threw back a shot with the others. You felt an arm sling across your should and as you looked up a big grin grew upon your face, your best friend Calum was smiling back at you, clearly already buzzed, or maybe he was baked. Either way he pulled you in for a tight hug, as if he knew you need him, he dragged you to the backyard which where filled with people, but more quiet than the house. You guys found a quite place and sat down "heyyy what's wrong babe?" He looked at you with concern written across his face. You chewed on your lips, not believing the words which were about to spill from your lips "I don't know if Ashton makes me happy anymore" you blurted out, clasping a hand over your mouth, the words making you heart twist and your stomach drop "oh don't say that Y/N you guys are meant for each other! " he says, clearly taken back by your confession, before you answer him he asked you "what is the cause of this? " you play with your fingers in your lap "he has just been so weird lately, always picking a fight with me, being possessive and never really loving on me. Even when I left today he was rude" Calum looked at you, taking in the information you just offered him, as he started to speak you cut him off "it's ok cal, let's just party and forget about it, yeah?" Calum was still concerned but he let it pass, pulling you in for a tight embrace before he pulled you towards the large crowd of people. You had danced for hours and you felt tired, ready to go home. You grabbed your phone to see 4 missed calls and 16 texts from Ashton, going from apologetic to angry, and you felt your stomach drop again. You didn't want to party anymore but you honestly couldn't bother to go home just to fight with Ash. You looked around for your friends, but they were all shitfaced and to no help. So you dared to call an Uber, and were now sat on the backseat on your way back to your house.
You unlocked the door to the dark house, expecting to find Ashton sleeping, instead he was awake looking like a mad man " Ashton what are you doing up" you breath out as you stumbled closer to him still intoxicated by the large amount of liquid you had consumed. He looked at you with harsh eyes as he spat at you "how nice of you to come home, did you get enough of fucking Calum?" Your mouth fell open, as you turned your heel not up for another fight with Ash, especially not in your state "don't you fucking dare to walk away fro me" Ashton warned as you climbed the stairs going straight to your bathroom getting ready for some much needed sleep. He stormed in looking at you as you removed your makeup, a look of disbelief crossing his face "are you not even going to deny sleeping around with my best mate!" He asked you, more of an exclamation than a question, you turned around looking at him as tears burned in your eyes your voice came out weaker than intended " whats the point? Of course i didn't sleep with him, but you know that, and I don't care to fight with you right now Ashton, I'm just over this." He crooked his head as anger now flashed in his beautiful face "The photos says something else Y/N! And if you don't care why the fuck are you here than, huh?!" You didn't know what to say, because that had been the same question you had asked yourself earlier. You just looked at him with dull eyes, leaning in and giving him a soft peak on the cheek before turning to walk away. You threw yourself on the guest bed needing a break.
The sun danced through the window waking you from your sleep, you groaned as your headache set in and you remember last nights events. You knew the morning would be tough, you would have to have yet another fight with Ash and yet another fight within yourself, do you want to stay?
The floor creaks beneath your feet's as you tiptoe to your shared bedroom, Ashton laying splashed across the bed, curls spread around his head, and his strong torso on display as the sheet pools at his hips, your heart ache as you take in the view. It's like you are seeing him for the first time in a while, the man you love more than life itself, him you want to marry, and you still want it all with him. With a small smile you cross the room, sitting beside Ash, you take his hand in yours and plays a bit with his rough hands “ I love you ash, I wish you believed me" you whispered, you felt him tense up besides you and you slowly turned your head to look at him, he smiled dimples popping at you, and you swear everything felt perfect for just a second. A loud laugh erupted as he pulled you to him and coved you with his whole body, he looked down at you with more love than ever before and you felt ashamed that you had ever even considered leaving him. "Hi baby, what's going on in that pretty head of yours?" He asked you, his voice soft as butter as if it would break the moment, you brought your hands to his hair tugging slightly at it "I missed you, and I'm sorry if I made you feel like I didn't love you, but you also haven't been the best partner lately" you let the words out that you had been holding back, he dropped his head to your neck pressing a soft kiss to the skin there, his voice broke the silence "I've missed you too love, and you have nothing to be sorry about, I've been a dick to you baby. You know, I've been struggling a lot lately, I've seen so many fan accounts shipping you and Cal, and than when I saw the photos last night it just made sense, I mean you can do so much better than me" you furrowed your brows and pushed Ashton slightly away, a few tears falling from your eyes, had you really been so self observed that you haven't noticed how much ash was suffering? "What photos?" You asked instead, and he reached across the bed retrieving his phone. Ashton went to Twitter and showed the photo from the party, of you pressed against Calum chest and than some photos of you two in a deep conversation and you had to give it to him it did look like you and calum were flirting. "I'm sorry ash, I can see why these photos would concern you, I promise it was nothin" he cut you off " I know baby, Calum told me last night, I assumed that you told him about our situation" he looked at you with a small smile as you nodded. Everything felt alright as he laid back on his back, pulling you to his chest his lips never failing to connect with the side of your head. The rest of the day consist of Ashton loving on you and showing you how much he really loves you
#5sos#fanfiction#5sosfic#ashton irwin#calum hood#fiction#5sos calm#5sos fandom#5sos fanfic#luke hemmings#writing#5sos blurbs#blurbs#5sos preferences#preference#imagines 5sos#oneshot#5sos x y/n#5soso ashton#ashton x reader
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