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#hes run to the woods he'll be okay
peachesofteal · 3 days
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Simon Riley / female reader Secret baby trope / 18+ Inspo musing
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It’s your eyes.
He notices them first.
They glance over from across the room, incredibly brief. You touch on everyone seated along the worn wood, cataloguing, categorizing, before turning your attention back to your friend, who seems to be in the middle of a story.
Like Johnny is.
“LT, ye even listenin’ to me?” Simon nods, but he’s still watching you. Tracing your spine, staring at the exposed skin on your neck. He imagines you smell like lavender, or citrus. Something spritely and soft. He conjures up the image of his thumb pressing into your bottom lip, and he wonders how plush it is.
You look like a perfect little treat.
And he’s in need of one.
“She’s bonnie.” Johnny sips his beer, eyebrow raised. “Like what ye see?” He shrugs. He hasn’t taken a woman to bed in years. It always ends up feeling wrong somehow, stale. Unease twists in his gut when clothes start to come off, anxiety trembles in the swell of his blood, and his scars begin to feel fresh. Torn open.
Sex makes him feel torn apart. Ripped to shreds.
But he’s not opposed to having another go at it. Not if you're the one taking his cock like a good girl.
There's something about you. You’re bright, like a little jewel, sparkling in the sun. A piece of something precious. Too golden to be tarnished, too sunny to be sullied by darkness.
He nearly swallows his tongue when you appear at the end of the bar, opposite of Johnny. You’re waiting to order another beer, he assumes, but you look over at him for too long, a second or two, and it tells him all he needs to know.
It’s in your eyes.
“Hi.” Your lips curve upwards at each side, a secretive smile, imparted only on him. His heart flutters like a school boy, young and naive all over again. His skin is hot, prickled under his clothes, hair on the back of his neck standing straight up.
Fuck, you're so pretty. You're perfect.
He's staring at your lips, memorizing the pert Cupid's bow, the soft color that shines when your tongue darts out to lick them.
Johnny clears his throat. Simon's brain catches up to his body. "Hey-"
An oversized brute jostles you, his shoulder nearly pushing you into Johnny. You blink, doe eyed, and then step back from the bar, allowing him to take up the space where you just occupied.
Simon grits his teeth, vision tunneling red.
Kitten doesn't have any claws.
That's okay, he thinks. You wouldn't need them, if you had him.
He wonders if violence scares you. If he beats this ogre to a bloody pulp, would you run from him? He takes in the confused crinkle in your brow, wide, shy eyes, and decides on a different tactic.
"C'mere love." He husks, extending his hand, pushing Johnny's stool over with the heel of his foot, carving out a space for you to sidle in between them.
You press against his thigh as you take your spot, leaning forward to talk to the bartender, and when you look over your shoulder at him, small smile tugging at your lips, he presses his palm to the small of your back.
"And... two shots of whiskey, please."
You're... everything.
Naked, laid out on your bed with your legs spread, eyes still wide and sweet, and he can barely get his mouth to work as he looks at you.
"Simon," you whimper in the dark, hands reaching, searching, and he kisses each finger like they're a decadent treat, one he'll never have enough of, "please."
Moonlight illuminates your face, shines across the curves of your body, and he has to blink multiple times to steady himself, to keep himself grounded.
Your fingers don't feel like razors. Your mouth isn't torture. Every soft word you give him is like a balm. You're everything.
And he's going to show you, he's going to make sure you know- you're everything.
He's going to fuck you face to face.
But first, he needs-
Your hand wraps around his wrist. "I'm on the pill." you whisper, desperate. "I want to feel you... I'm clean, if you-" The trust you're implying is a foreign concept, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he worries. You're going to let him fuck you raw? You're going to let him feel the clutch of your pussy, without any protection?
You're out of your mind.
But so is he.
"I haven't been with anyone in years." His accent is a rasp, heavy with desire. "And 've got a clean bill of heath."
It's a mutual agreement. And it doesn't take any convincing.
"You want me to fuck this pretty little pussy raw, sweet girl? Is that it?" His mouth covers yours, and then trails down to your neck, nips across the tops of your breasts. "Want me to fill you up?"
"Yeah," his fingers slide through your folds, teasing from top to bottom, swirling around your clit, "fuck, yeah, I want-"
"I've got a lot of cum for you, honey. You sure you can take it?" You clench around the finger he's slipped inside, and moan.
"Oh my god," Your spine arches, and he holds your hips, aligning himself before pushing into your body, melding the two of together almost perfectly.
Almost, because you're so bloody tight, it's like you're strangling him. He's not going to last.
"Relax," He murmurs, kissing your jaw, rubbing a slow circle around your clit. "There you go, that's my girl." It slips out, but you don't seem to care. Neither does he. Tonight, you're his. You and your body and your heart and your soul, belong to him. He'll mark you like you’re his. A fantasy, a wish, a far cry from reality.
In another life, maybe he'd have you forever. For real.
But in this life, he'll take what he can get, and you let him. You let him take and take and take all night long, on your back, face bared to him like he's the brightest star and not the darkness haunting dreams. You kiss him like it's real, and when he comes inside you once, and then twice, you let him stay there, locked tight, staring down into your eyes. He rubs your cheek with his thumb, and you smile. He presses his forehead against yours, and your cup the back of his head, gingerly kissing him, carefully, like you know. Like you can see him.
You say his name. You moan it. You scream it. It's never sounded so good, and he wonders if this is what it's like- to have and to hold.
In the morning, before the sun rises, he stands at the foot of your bed, watching you sleep. He wishes you'd wake, wants you to open your eyes and ask him to stay, hopes you'll roll over and realize he's not there and call his name-
It's all a fantasy. Something that could never be more than what it was in that moment, in the moonlight, a secret held between two strangers, the first breath in the dawn.
He brushes his lips across your forehead one last time, and then disappears down the hall.
Out the door.
Out of your life.
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sxcret-garden · 8 months
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Morning Sex with Ateez
ღ Ateez all members x fem!bodied reader ღ genre: (mostly soft) smut ღ warnings: none
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Hongjoong:
you realize he's in the mood as soon as you wake up
won't let you get out of bed and instead grabs you by your wrist
half lidded eyes glued to your lips before he leans in and kisses you softly
but don't be fooled - he has no filter whatsoever right after waking up and he's gonna make you feel that he doesn't just want you, he needs you
crawls on top of you while scattering lazy kisses wherever he can reach, with his hands roaming your body
a firm grip that keeps you in place, and eventually he'll pin your wrists above your head with one hand, starting to tease you through your panties with the other
won't bother to take off your pajamas fully and instead just pulls them down as far as needed to fuck you
surprisingly rough but makes sure it's not uncomfortable for you
nails digging into your flesh and his face buried in the crook of your neck to nibble on the skin there as he holds you close until you come undone in his arms
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Seonghwa:
soooo flustered at himself when he wakes up letting out a tiny whine at the way you're pleasuring him
you thought since you were awake before your boyfriend for once, you wanted to give him a little surprise and started palming him through his pajama pants
but now that he's looking up at you with a deep blush on his face even you're wondering what's happening to your boyfriend all of a sudden...
you take your hand away as you ask him whether he's okay, but he's quick to get a hold of your wrist in order to lead you back to his hardened length
"Don't stop..." whispers those words while he gazes at you as if he was completely drunk on you
and when you pull down his pants to touch him directly only the sweetest of moans will fall from his lips
you crawl on top of him after removing your own clothes eventually, and you bet he'll cum the second you've taken him in fully
but you don't stop there, finding this new side of your boyfriend way too interesting
and so you ride him until he's hard again, fucking him slowly to see what other noises you can draw out of him
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Yunho:
sometimes when you wake up before he does and you notice his morning wood you decide to help him out a bit
waking him up with innocent kisses first to see if he's in the mood too, you're eventually met with sleepy eyes gazing up at you, his expression filling with warmth the second you come into sight
simply sighs at the way you run your hands down his chest and abdomen, scattering some more kisses in his neck at which he chuckles, voice still raspy from having only just woken up
you fingertips dance further south eventually, and when you ask whether you should lend him a hand or not, all he can do is nod
lips slightly parted, he watches you crawl on top of him - you know he loves it when you ride him and he can have his hands on your hips for an opportunity to control your pace
however, because it's so early in the morning he'll simply watch, running his hands up your torso under your shirt, and while you're still fully clothed you start rolling your hips on top of him
will throw his head back and moan at the way you're dry humping him, and you both know he won't last long at this rate
makes you lean down because the need to kiss you is overwhelming, and eventually he'll come undone underneath you
will certainly promise you round two once he's woken up properly, because he wants to make you feel good too in return
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Yeosang:
waking you up with morning sex hasn't even crossed his mind, until one day he wakes up spooning you, his morning wood pressing against your ass
usually he'd get up quietly to take care of it himself so he wouldn't wake you up, but one particular morning you too awaken before he can get out of bed
you sleepily tell him to just get off on you instead as you catch him by his wrist, and when he settles in behind you to do as told, you feel yourself getting turned on as well
with the way he's holding onto your hips to keep you in place as you hear him trying and failing to suppress quiet moans, you find yourself mewling at his actions too, and eventually you’re in need for pleasure too
he halts for but a second when you tell him to just fuck you, but once you pull down your pants and lead his hand around your waist, he understands what you want
fucks you from behind while having his arms tightly wrapped around you, while you're rubbing your own clit for extra stimulation
you're gonna become moaning messes in no time and when you've both finished you may or may not feel the need for an extra round or two...
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San:
soso soft and sleepy
will whine in your ear from behind as he snakes his arms around your frame so you don't escape him
mumbles things like how he doesn't want you to get up yet and how you're so warm 
even when he simply wants to cuddle with you before starting the day he's clingy, but he'll be much more needy when he's horny
will be the absolute happiest and all over you when you do decide to stay in bed with him for a bit longer
lips brushing feathery light kisses onto yours while his touches grow more passionate
just needs to feel you close to him, and so eventually clothes will be peeled off and he'll have his hands all over you in no time
becomes impatient as he's starting to pleasure you, making sure you're wet and stretched out enough to take him
and the noises he makes when he finally gets to be inside you!!
from sweet little whines to desperate groans, he could make you go crazy from how vocal he gets alone
will collapse on top of you after you're done, and if you start playing with his hair or massaging his scalp he might even fall back asleep
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Mingi:
it's when one night you mention to him that you'd be curious what it feels like to be woken up by someone eating you out that he sets his mind to trying it out once the chance arises
and so now you're stirring awake with heat coursing through your body, and it takes you a while to realize that your boyfriend has settled in between your legs
having thrown them over his shoulders, he looks up at you immediately when he hears you calling out his name
"You don't like it...?" he assumes at first, but when you shake your head and urge him on to keep going, he becomes the most eager you've ever seen him
the way his tongue is drawing circles on your clit makes your head spin, and with your body being only just in the process of waking up, you can feel that it'll be an easy task for him to make you cum
you reach for his hair as you sleepily whine about how amazing you feel, and with every praise falling from your lips, Mingi becomes more determined to make you feel the best he can
hums at your taste and eventually uses his fingers on you too
feels so proud when he can feel you clenching around them in no time
needless to say this becomes a regular thing for you two from now on, sometimes even switching up the roles when you're awake before him
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Wooyoung:
the type to love pressing his hard on against your ass, waking you up with teasing touches and kisses in your neck
"Good morning sweetheart" - showers you in praises from the moment you open your eyes, and will let his hands roam
if you don't tell him to stop it won't take long for his hand to be down your pants
soft, fleeting touches against your clit are meant to tease you, and you can bet he won't go further than that until he hears you beg for more in that sleepy voice of yours
whether you whine for it or become bossy when telling him to do it properly already - he'll love it all the same
grinds against your ass while he fingers you, and won't let it be taken away from him to tease you about how little it took him to get you all wet....
little kisses and nibbles all over your neck and shoulders, and he'll eventually become frustrated that your shirt is covering so much of your skin
he's wide awake before you are, now pulling off your clothes in a haste so he can worship your body with kisses and his palms all over you
makes sure you cum at least once before getting his own share, and will for sure convince you to stay in bed with him for as long as possible
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Jongho:
it's not something that happens often with him, but sometimes you two just can't help yourselves
usually when one of you had a sexual dream and you wake up horny, you're just immediately reaching for the other
merely half opening your eyes to make out what position the other is still sleeping in, and otherwise using your fingertips to find the other's lips so you could wake each other with a kiss
mumbling sweet nothings with your lips still touching, and you both immediately know what's going on
hands are roaming each other's body with your eyes still closed, merely needing to feel each other in your still not fully awake state
he'll wrap his arms around you eventually and bring you as close as possible
lips attached to your neck, he'll tend to your chest first, while you start palming him through his pants
however, his fingers will find their way towards your core eventually
only taking in the other's moans and groans, you're getting each other off like that
you're finally looking at each other when you've both finished, but soon mutually agree that it's both too bright with the sun coming in through the curtains and too early to get up
so instead of getting up you merely snuggle up to each other and stay in bed for a while longer
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phoward89 · 2 months
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Based on this ask
Dark!Coriolanus, Delulu!Coriolanus, StepDaddy!Coriolanus, DaddyCoriolanus
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You've known Coriolanus Snow ever since you were kids. Your fathers were serving in the war together, in 12, and you both lived in the same building. Hell, he was the one you ran to when an officer came to your door with the heartbreaking news that your father was killed deep in the woods of District 12 by rebels alongside General Crassus Snow.
Coriolanus’ father.
Coriolanus, despite being a young orphan boy, hugged you and tried to give you comfort. He told you that he'd be your best friend forever.
God, you both were 8 when that happened.
Fast forward 13 years and now, at age 21, you’re finding yourself running to his door once again over another life change.
This time though, you’re going to him to make an announcement. An announcement that would change your friendship. One that he'd most likely view as scandalous.
But you had to tell him before he found out from gossip.
When the elevator doors dinged open, you stepped out onto the 12th floor. Taking a deep breath, you closed the distance between you and the penthouse door.
You prayed that he wouldn't push you away after your announcement.
He was the only real friend you had left after Sejanus' death. It'll kill you if Coryo cuts ties with you because of the situation you're in.
Even though you were afraid of his reaction to your news, you balled your hand up into a fist and quickly knocked on the door. God, you were so nervous to see him. Maybe you should just tell him your news in the doorway and then run off in shame?
Yea, that's what you should do. No way in hell is Coriolanus Snow, an assistant game maker to Dr. Gaul and a University student only a year away from graduating with degrees in both military strategies and political science, going to stick by your side once you tell him your scandalous news. What you've got to tell him is a big no no in proper Capitol society.
God, he'll probably just call you a whore and turn you away once he hears it.
The door opened, revealing Coriolanus standing in the doorway. A wide smile cracked his face open as his icy blue eyes took in your presence. “Darling, I wasn't expecting a visit from you today.” Reaching for your hand, he said, “Come in, we'll have tea with Grandma'am.”
You snatched your hand away from him before his long fingers could grasp it. Your eyes fell to study his floor shines (damn, you never realize how big his shoes- well his feet, were til now. Like damn…), as you told him, “I can't stay for tea. I only came by to tell you something; then leave.”
“Surely you can come inside and sit with me. Grandma’am adores you and whatever you have to tell me, you can do it while we have tea.”
“Coryo, I can't.” You heavily sighed.
Coriolanus furrowed his brows, your words making him concerned. You've never declined the invite to come in and have tea before. Usually you'd just walk on in, shoulders brushing by his, whenever you came over. The fact that you refused to move an inch, never made any motion to come inside, concerned him.
Instantly, he was placing a comforting hand on your shoulder and tilting your chin up with his knuckles. Your worried eyes meet his baby blues. Baby blues that searched the windows of your soul for answers on why you were acting so unlike yourself.
Even tho he'd never admit it, Coriolanus was worried. The way you were acting was so unlike you; it scared him.“Y/N, what's wrong? What aren't you telling me?”
“I'm pregnant.” You told your best friend, breath shaky, afraid that he'd view you with the same stigma and shame that Capitol citizens viewed unwed mothers with.
You're pregnant?
Pregnant!
Coriolanus couldn't believe his ears. How did this happen? Okay, he knows how it happened. But he just didn't know that you were fucking somebody.
How could have Coriolanus missed the fact that you were seeing somebody; fucking somebody? Weren't people so disgustingly happy and flighty when they were young and in love? When they were having their innocence stripped away?
And then another thought struck him. One that made his blood boil. You had no reason to tell him that you were knocked up (since in the Capitol accidental unwed pregnancies always led to quick weddings) unless whoever got you in trouble abandoned you; forsaken and tricked you.
Had betrayed you.
And now you need your Coryo to fix everything; make everything all better.
“Who do I need to threaten?” The platinum blonde asked you, dead ass, and it took you by surprise.
You were expecting Coryo to be upset with you, disgusted even, but you weren't expecting him to ask who the baby daddy was and to offer to threaten them. Yea…That took you off guard.
“Coryo, you don't need to do that.”
“Of course I need to do that.” Coriolanus simply said. He rubbed your shoulders in a comforting manner while telling you, “Whoever got you into your delicate condition buttered you up with lies only to use you and turn their back on you. They betrayed you; broke your heart and I'm going to make them pay.”
“Coriolanus, no.” You shook your head. “You're not going to go hunting down my ex to maim him because he's not ready to be tied down.”
“Yes, I'm going to do exactly that because that scoundrel knocked you up and ran away from his responsibilities. He's living his life, without any second thoughts of you, while you're at risk of social damnation.”
“And here I thought you'd send me away and call me a whore, but instead you want to confront Livinius.” You scoffed incredulously.
“Livinius? As in Livia Cardew’s older brother, Livinius Cardew?” Coriolanus asked, his baritone full of disgust, as his icy blue eyes narrowed and turned cold.
Oh shit…did you just accidentally tell Coryo that Vinny’s the one that knocked you up? Yea…you did…
“I'm going to kill him.” Coryo swore as steam literally came out of his ears. He was so mad it wasn't even funny.
Hoping to calm him down, you placed your hands on his chest. “Coryo, please don't. Just leave it alone.”
Locking his eyes with yours, Coryo asked, “Do you love him?”
Did you love Livinius? No, you didn't. You only went out with him because your mother pushed you to. Your mother who had disowned you once you told her that you're pregnant. You did care about Vinny tho, even if you didn't love him.
“No.” You shook your head. “I don't love him, but I was with him long enough to care.”
Coriolanus was relieved that you didn't love Livinius, but he thought you were foolish for still caring about him. He didn't want you to feel worse than you did, so he gave you the well meaning advice of, “Well, stop caring about him because he surely doesn't care about you.”
You were feeling a bit overwhelmed emotionally (blame it on the hormones) so you told your best friend, “Thank you for not turning me away, but I think I better go now.”
“I know how much of a bitch Helenium can be. Where are you staying?”
“Coryo…” You heavily sighed, not wanting to get into things with him about your mother kicking you out and disowning you.
“Jesus, she kicked you out, didn't she?” Coriolanus concluded with bitterness in his voice.
“Yea.” You confirmed with a nod. “I've been staying at a hotel near the rail station for now. It's just until I can get a job and find an apartment.”
“You're pregnant, Y/N. You don't need to stress about working long hours in retail and finding some shithole flat to stay warm in.” The platinum blonde said, only to push his apartment door open as wide as it'd go. Ushering you in with a large hand on your shoulder, he said, “Come on, you’re staying with me.”
“Coryo, you don't need to put me up. Really, I'm fine staying at the hotel until I figure things out.” You told him, as he closed the door behind you.
Turning you around to look at him, he told you, “I know that I don't need to do anything, but I want you to stay with me because you're my best friend. It's always been my job to protect you; keep you safe, Y/N.”
How could you argue with that? He was only looking out for you. Was only doing what he's always done for you, which was to try and protect you.
You let out a heavy sigh, only to tell him, “Okay, but it'll only be temporary. I promise, I'll figure something out.”
“You don't need to figure something out because I said you're staying with me. And don't worry about the expenses, I'm more than capable of handling it.”
“Okay.” You gave in, knowing fighting your best friend (who was as stubborn as a mule) on livng with him was a losing battle. “But, please, don't tell Grandma’am yet. I can't bare to see her disappointment at me about once she finds out.” You told Coriolanus while letting him usher you out of the entrance hall.
“Okay, we won't tell Grandma’am until you're ready.” Coriolanus agreed to your request before the living room came into view.
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“I still can't believe you have a car.” You told Coriolanus as he opened the passanger’s side door of his black luxury sedan for you. The car looked imported, but you weren't sure since you didn't know much about cars. Well, other than how to sit in them that is.
“I told you, darling, I’ve got money now.” Coriolanus told you, a smug smirk painted on his lush lips, before shutting the door and rounding the car to the driver's side. He opened the door and took his seat behind the wheel. “So, do you have a lot of things at the motel?”
“No.” You shook your head as your best friend cranked the car engine to life. “Just a cardboard box of stuff and a couple trash bags of clothes.” You told him as he pulled out of the parking lot behind the Corso apartments.
“You have your clothes in garbage bags!?” Coriolanus exclaimed, giving you a scandalous look. “Little dove, you should've came to me as soon as Helenium kicked you out. I would've moved your things from the 8th floor to the 12th.”
“I didn't come to you right away because my mother gave me enough money to rent a hotel room for a few weeks. I had things under control; I just came over today to tell you about my pregnancy so you wouldn't find out from gossip.”
“Y/N, you don't have things under control. You're living in a one star hotel by the Panem Rail station, you're living out of trash bags, and you're unemployed.”
“Corio-” You began, only for your bestfriend to cut you off with, “Don't, Y/N, don't you dare try to convince me that you're okay because I know you're not.” He switched lanes (without using his blinkers, which is a big no no), while telling you, “You need my help and I'm in the position to give it to you. The Plinths, after losing Sejanus, have made me their heir and are very generous to me and my family.” His icy blue eyes looked between you and the road, only to say, “I'm not that poor boy giving you most of his share of cabbage and broth after letting you sleep over. I'm able to help you; support you the way you need now.”
“I know, but I don't want to be dependent on you.” What you left out was that you didn't want him taking care of a baby that wasn't his problem. He had the world at his fingertips, he didn't need his best friend's scandal holding him back.
“You're not dependent on me, darling. We're bestfriends and I want to help you.” Coriolanus told you while turning a corner and nearly clipping a car.
Oh hell, how did he even pass his driver's test? He drives like a maniac.
Oh, wait a minute, Strabo Plinth probably just paid off the DMV to give Coryo his license.
Not wanting to talk to your bestfriend anymore, you leaned forward and turned on the car’s radio. You fiddled with the tuner until you landed on a station you liked.
The music filled the atmosphere for maybe a minute or so before Coriolanus turned it off. Looking between you and the road, he said, “Look, Y/N, I know how it is to be manipulated and used by someone you love. To give them everything only for it not to be enough; for them to turn on you and betray you.” He took one of his hands off the wheel, only to grab yours and say, “Darling, you're my bestfriend and the only person who's truly ever been by my side genuinely; not because you want to use me for something. You mean a lot to me and I just want to help you because I know how stupid and foolish you feel right now after getting your heart broken by Livinius.”
You just nodded and squeaked out, “Okay.” You really didn't feel like talking about this stuff right now.
And when did Coriolanus become somebody that talked about feelings? For as long as you've known him he always ran away from feelings.
What you didn't know is that Coryo's been harboring a decade-long crush on you. A crush he never acted on because he was afraid of ruining your friendship. Afraid that you'd push him away for being too obsessive (he knows how he can be with his things). So, he just pushed his feelings for you onto the prettiest face he saw (Lucy Gray once he became her mentor). And when he came back to the Capitol, he threw himself into his studies and interning with Dr. Gaul that he only saw you occasionally.
Now he wishes he would've just acted on his feelings for you, then your child would be his. But, he was going to fix everything and make it all better. Starting by getting rid of Livinius Cardew.
“Just let me handle everything for you, my little dove.” Coryo said while pulling into the parking lot of your hotel.
A run down hotel right next to the rail station. The flashing sign reading ‘Vacancy’ looked about to burn out. The tall blue sign next to the hotel reading Motel 6 seemed to mock you as Coryo asked, “What room in this pre-Panem horror's yours?”
“205.” You simply said as he pulled into an empty parking spot.
He cut the cars engine and pocketed his keys, only to hold his hand out. “Key.” Was the simple word he said.
You grabbed your bag from the floor and fished your room keys out. When you dropped them into his palm, he cringed.
They were brass keys, not a key card like the nicer hotels had. Coriolanus didn't say a word, but the disgusted look on his face was enough to know that he didn't approve of your choice of room. Opening his door, he said, “I won't be long, wait here.”.
You just nodded, watching as he got out of the car and went to get your things.
How did you end up here, you don't know. You went to see Coryo earlier to tell him about that baby, you never meant for him to take you in. To drag you to your hotel to get your things. It feels like everything escalated so quickly and you don't know how to feel about it.
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After collecting your things, Coryo brought you back to his penthouse and helped you get settled in the guest room.
At first staying with the platinum blonde man was hard, since you felt guilty about him taking care of you, but eventually after a few weeks you got over it.
Truthfully, it was nice spending time with your best friend (that you haven't seen in a while) and his Grandma'am, who you adored. You wish that Tigris, Coryo's cousin, was around more. But since Coryo helped her get a shop and become a stylist for the games, she moved out and into a luxurious condo that was located above her boutique.
But, unknown to you, in the last few weeks you've been living in the Snow penthouse, Coriolanus has been viewing you as more than his best friend. He, for some reason, has started viewing you as his girl. And that baby you're carrying, well…he's starting to view it as his child.
Especially when you came home from an appointment with the first printed scan of the baby. You waited until Grandma'am was tucked in bed before asking Coriolanus if he wanted to see the scan. You were scared he'd say no, but you asked because you wanted to share it with somebody.
You wanted somebody to be your partner during this time, this pregnancy, even if that someone was your best friend.
Was Coriolanus Snow.
Turns out that you had nothing to be scared of since Coryo flashed you a genuine smile and told you that he'd be honored to see the printouts of your first ultrasound scan.
You had a couple of copies, so you gave him one. And when you gave it to him, standing nervously in his room, next to him as he sat at his desk, he smiled and ran his thumb over the tiny bean shaped baby (well fetus) in the scan. “How far along are you, little dove?” Coriolanus asked, never taking his eyes off of the piece of paper in his large hand.
Going over to the edge of his bed and sitting down, you explained, “I’m a few days away from being 9 weeks. Dr. Wellock says I'm due during the summer, in mid-June.”
The platinum blonde ran a hand thru his hair while grumbling, “Of course, baby's due when I'll be at my busiest preparing for the games.”
“I'm sure I’ll be on my feet by then, Coryo. Don't worry about it, the baby's not coming for another 7 months.”
But Coryo had to worry about it. He didn't want to be so busy with helping Dr.Gaul prepare for the games come mid-June that he misses out on the birth of his first born. And in his mind you were carrying his first born. Just staring at that baby, no bigger then a bean, on the print out he was holding made something paternal (and delusional) snap in his head like a rubber band. Now, after seeing that scan printout, he was convinced that your baby was his.
Coriolanus has never fucked you (ever), but he's convinced himself that the baby's his. That you're his perfect, innocent, little dove. His darling rose of a best friend. His baby girl. So that the baby you carry has to be his too.
The little tiny baby had a strong heartbeat and stats according to the print out, so he knew it was his.
His, his, his.
“You and the baby are staying here with me, Y/N. And that's final.”
“Okay.”, You agreed, only because you knew that you'd need help with a newborn. Who were you to turn away your best friend's help. Coriolanus cares deeply for you; wanted to make sure that you and the baby had the things you deserved. You couldn't fault him for that.
If only it was that simple, that innocent.
But it wasn't.
No.
Somewhere in the platinum blonde's head wires got crossed and he blew a fuse. He thinks the baby's his, and since he thinks that he'll never let you or the baby leave his penthouse.
Ever.
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Nearly 3 months into living with Coryo, he came home one evening hunched over; coughing. The handkerchief he was coughing into was stained with blood. He staggered to his room, ignoring the startled cries and pleas from you and Grandma'am.
Turning to the worried old woman, dressed in her jewels and bright tunic, you assured her, “I’ll go check on Coryo.”
“Oh, should I call that maid, the Plinth woman, to put on a pot of tea for our Coriolanus?” Grandma'am asked as you rose from your seat.
When will Grandma’am realize that Ma Plinth (who lives on the 11th floor) isn't the maid? Ma Plinth just happens to be the mother of your late friend, Sejanus, and is just a warm, kind person who cleans the penthouse a few times a week and spends time with Grandma'am (and watches her when Coryo has to go somewhere for a long period of time or when you have appointments). Is Grandma’am’s memory, her senses fading that quickly? You know she can be a bit…much, sometimes- but still, is her memory getting worse?
“No.” You shook your head. Lightly patting her hand, you said, “I'll put some on if he wants it.”
Grandma'am just nodded, watching you as you left the main room and went down the hall towards Coriolanus’ room.
You knocked once on his bedroom door before opening it and peeking your head inside. “Coryo, are you okay?” You asked, seeing that he was sprawled out on his side, nearly falling over the edge of the bed, while bloodily hacking into his handkerchief.
Looking up at you, icy blue eyes full of pain, he croaked, “I’ll be fine, Y/N.”
You didn't know if you believed him or not. He didn't look like he'd be fine. Sighing, you entered the room and went over to him. “What’s wrong, Coriolanus?” You asked, getting into the bed with him and pushing a stray sweaty curl that got loose from its slick back style, away from his face.
“Nothing, just suppose it's something I drank.
“Something you drank?”
“I had tea with Livinius, after my work with Dr. Gaul today, to speak with him about you and the baby. The tea must've been bad because he dropped dead at the tea room and I'm sick.”
“Coriolanus, what did you do?” You asked, knowing deep down that bad tea doesn't kill people and make them jack up blood. That your best friend had a hand in whatever happened.
“I didn't do anything, darling.” Denied the platinum blonde, clutching his handkerchief as he welt blood tickling the back of his throat.
“Don't lie to me, Coryo. Please, as my best friend you owe me the truth.”
Coryo let out a string of loud, bloody coughs; staining his handkerchief and soaking it crimson. Lifting his head up off his pillow and looking at you from over his shoulder he told you, “I killed him for us and the baby.”
“What? Why?” You gasped, eyes wide, searching for answers.
“Livinius offered to give me money for you to get rid of our mistake, before you got too far along. I wasn't going to let him get away with that, so I poisoned him.” Coriolanus told you, body wracked with uncontrollable coughs. Coughs that made him spit up thick spools of blood.
“Coryo, are you insane? Just because he wanted me to get an abortion doesn't mean you had to poison him.”
“He was dangerous to us, little dove. He heard you moved in with me and invited me out for tea to discuss your condition and I wasn't going to let him threaten our baby and get away with it.”
You blinked as you took in his words. Our baby. Our baby as in his and your baby. Not your baby, but ours. He considered your baby his despite the fact that you've never fucked him, ever, in your entire life.
What the hell's wrong with him? Has he lost it? Was he delusional?
What the hell?
“Just hold me, baby. Please, just hold me.” Coryo asked between bloody coughs that had him gagging in pain.
You were beyond shocked. Your best friend had murdered your ex with poison and had inadvertently poisoned himself to the point that he's currently knocking on heaven’s door right now. And all because he had some delusion that your baby, your baby that was fathered by the man that he just murdered, was his.
How do you deal with this? Is there any way to deal with this?
Sighing, you decided to give into Coryo's request. He killed your ex, Vinny, to keep the baby safe. A baby he’s convinced is his. But, he did it with good intentions.
They say hell is paved with good intentions.
So…
You held him as his body shook and he coughed up a concerning amount of blood. He was always there for you, the least you could do was be here for Coriolanus. His baby blues had so much pain swimming in them. You couldn't imagine how bad he felt right now as his body was fighting itself.
“You're not going to die, are you, Coryo?” You asked, afraid that you'd lose him because of a rash decision he made.
“No.” Coryo weakly shook his head. Slowly turning around, so that he could comfortably rest his head on your chest, he told you, “I'm partially immune to this poison; I'll just be sick for a few days. He cleared his throat, fighting off a cough, and placed his hand on your belly. “You're slowly starting to get a tiny bump.” His baritone was full of pride as he told you, “I think we should stop hiding from the stigma of being unwed parents and just tell Grandma'am that she's going to be a Great-Grandma’am.”
“She's going to insist that we get married, Coryo.” You pointed out, hoping that he'd drop the notion of telling Grandma’am. You're certain that he's not ready to settle down yet.
If he was, wouldn't he have somebody by now?
Little did you know that he did have somebody.
He has you.
And that's why, in between coughing up blood, he told you, “I can convince Grandma’am that we'll have to wait until the baby’s born to have the wedding, so that you’ll be able to fit into your dress and drink celebratory champagne at the reception.”
And those words cemented that fact that your best friend was delusional. He didn't just want to raise your baby as his own, but wanted to marry you too.
Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, he told you, “Since we're telling Grandma'am about the baby as soon as I'm feeling well enough to get out of bed, we can end our charade of chastity. You can finally share my bed, my darling.”
Coryo smirked, thinking that his words were charming, before hacking and soaking his already stained handkerchief with more crimson liquid.
With the metallic smell of blood and the sweet smell of roses mingling in the room, you found yourself giving into Coriolanus' delusions. You agreed to tell Grandma'am about the baby and to move your things into his bedroom.
Because what choice did you have? Coriolanus killed to keep you and the baby safe. It was clear to you that he'd do anything for you and your child.
At least he'd be a devoted husband and father, even if he’s a bit delusional.
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Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak, @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @staylowessafe
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notsosweetchan · 1 month
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Warning: Smut (Minors Do Not Interact )
Paring - Maknae line x Reader -
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-Morning wood-
Jisung
. It’s pretty much every morning
. Rarely gets embarrassed
. Would pull you close and rutting up against you while you’re alseep
. If he wakes you up it’s not from him rubbing against you
. it’s from how loud he is
. It’s definitely leading to morning sex
Feeling your body pressed against his throbbing cock, Jisung can barely contain himself. He holds onto your hips tightly as he rubs his erection against the thin fabric of your sleep shorts. He doesn’t want to wake you up but he knows he can’t keep quiet for much longer.
His breathing becomes heavier, his hips grinding against yours in a pleading motion. He lets out a low moan unintentionally as the friction becomes too much to handle.
You stir in your sleep, half-awake and mumbling something incoherent. “Jisung...” you mumble, still half asleep. “Y/N baby, wake up. I-I need you,” he pants, his breathing erratic.
Slowly, your eyes flutter open and you blink sleepily, trying to adjust to the dim light in the room. You turn over to face him, only to be greeted by the sight of his flushed face and the tent in his boxers.
“Morning, sunshine,” he says with a shy smile, trying to play it off as if it’s something that doesn’t happen every single morning.
You can’t help but chuckle sleepily and reach down to grab his boxers, giving his hard length a squeeze through the fabric.
“Morning yourself, Jisung,” you say with a grin. “Looks like someone is up early today.” He groans at your pun but you can see the amusement dancing in his eyes.
You roll over onto your back, pulling him closer so that his erection is pressed between your thighs. “Well, what are you waiting for? Let's make me breakfast in bed,” you say with a wink.
Felix
. Gets embarrassed every time
. Would rather get himself off then wake you up .
. He'll try his best to be quiet
. His heavy breathing and moans will always give him away
. Will apologize profusely after feeling bad for waking you up but you reassure him it’s ok
Felix laid there, wide awake, his erection straining against his boxers. He didn't want to wake you up, knowing how much you've been struggling with sleep lately.
He bites his lower lip, trying his best to muffle the moans that threaten to escape his lips as he palms his hard length through his boxers.
His hips jerked involuntarily, his grip on the sheets tightening as pleasure courses through him. "Fuck," he hisses under his breath, before covering his mouth at the sound that had just escaped him.
"Felix?" you mumble, rolling over to face him. "You alright?"His eyes widened, caught red-handed—or red-handed in this case. "I'm s-sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up," he stutters, cheeks on fire.
You sit up and tilt his chin up with your fingers, a soft smile on your lips. "It's okay, Felix. It happens, you know that," you reassure him, running soothing circles on his back. "Besides, it's kinda cute how much you try to be quiet."
You grin playfully before planting a light kiss on his flushed cheek."Cute?" he repeats incredulously, but the embarrassment seems to have lessened a bit. "You're too kind,
Y/N," he mumbles, his face still flushed."Well, I don't mind waking up like this." You raise an eyebrow suggestively before your hand trails down to his boxers, palming his hard length through the fabric.
A moan escapes his lips before he can help it, but you silence him with a deep kiss."Shh," you whisper against his lips. "I got you, baby, let me take care of it.
Seungmin
. Rarely gets morning wood
. More likely to wake up from a wet dream
. Not afraid to wake you up to help him
. Wakes you up by grinding against you and calling your name
Seungmin's eyes shot open, his sheets in a tangled mess beneath him as he panted. Sweat glossed over his skin, the remnants of a very vivid dream still etched into his mind.
He felt...aroused. Very aroused. His boxers were soaked with his own precum and he whined in frustration. He needed...needed you.
He felt a warm body next to him and realized it was you who had shifted towards him in your sleep, pressing yourself against his half-hard member.
Grunting, he rolled over, pressing himself closer to you, seeking out any kind of relief he could get. However, that only made things worse as your ass pressed against his shaft, making it twitch violently.
"Y/N-ah..."he moans, his hips bucking upwards uncontrollably. "Babe, wake up...please?" he mumbled, trying to wake you up “I know you feel it too, so wake up already,” he whines, his voice laced with desperation.
You stir in your sleep before finally opening your eyes, feeling the weight of Seungmin's hardness against your ass. "Seungmin, it's 4am, can't this wait?" you mumble sleepily.
"No, I need you now," he whines, grinding his hips against yours for emphasis. "Fine, fine," you give in, turning over to face him. "You better make this quick."
"I make no promises," he replies with a wolfish grin, before claiming your lips in a messy kiss as he reaches down to rid you both of your pajamas
Jeongin
. 50/50 for morning wood
. Would wake you up by caressing your thighs . Makes sure you're awake before he does anything
. Will start by giving you deep kisses while grinding against you
. You'd know he's desperate if he wakes you up with morning sex
Jeongin lies on his back, staring at the ceiling as he fights the urge to touch himself. He could feel his hard-on tenting his boxers, straining for release. Beside him, you lay peacefully, oblivious to his predicament.
"Y/N," he whispers, lightly shaking your shoulder. You stir in your sleep but don't wake up completely.
"Y/N," he says louther this time, gently running his fingers along your thighs. This time, your eyes flutter open and you turn to face him with a sleepy frown."Morning, beautiful," he greets you with a gentle smile.
"Mmm...Jeongin, what time is it?" you mumble, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "Shh, it's early but I...uh...need some company," he says, his cheeks flushed. You couldn't help but smile at how adorable he was when embarrassed.
"Well, if you're offering," you say, rolling over to face him as he grins. He waste no time in capturing your lips in a deep, messy kiss, his tongue invading your mouth with a hunger that matches his own.
As he’s kisses you senseless, your hands roam his body before settling on his hardening cock, squeezing it through the fabric. "Mmm, you're already hard for me?" You teases, feeling his erection twitch in your grip.
"Always for you," Jeongin groan out as he helpfully gets rid of your pants and underwear, grinding his erection against your heated flesh.
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hoodiedmenace · 3 months
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Reasons Why Charles Smith and Arthur Morgan are Gay (an almost essay)
Reason 1: from a game play standpoint, you only get a few optional missions. Those missions are helping Mary when she asks (who is Arthur's like, old girlfriend/ex/situationship/it's complicated) and CHARLES when he asks Arthur to help with the local Native American tribe
Reason 2: Charles is super introverted, and doesn't talk to other gang members much at all. However, when Charles goes bison hunting, despite it being a sacred thing that he holds really close, he invites Arthur along
Reason 3: John, Arthur's sort of brother, gets SHOT and MAULED BY WOLVES and Arthur makes fun of him and doesn't treat it seriously. But when Charles burns his hand, Arthur is super doting on him
Reason 4: Arthur doesn't hug people very often, and when he does its always because another person initiates it. He doesn't go in for the hug himself. EXCEPT. With CHARLES. And they hug not once but twice. Once when Arthur finds out that Charles isn't dead, and again when Charles leaves the gang
Reason 4.5: when they hug the last time, you can see them hold hands for about two seconds once the hug has finished, as if they don't want to let go yet. (Which they probably don't because Charles knows that this is probably the last time that he'll see Arthur)
Reason 5: when Mary (again, Arthur's weird ex girlfriend/it's complicated) asks Arthur to run away from the gang and live with her, he says he can't because the gang is his family and he has to stay loyal to Dutch (who is Arthur's father figure/leader of the gang) but when Charles says he's staying to help the Native Americans, Arthur is immediately like "Okay I'll stay too" ............ yeah okay buddy those are totally straight tendencies
Reason 6: Charles is one of the few people that actually shows compassion, care, and offers Arthur a sort of solution when he tells Charles that he's dying. He also says "Oh Arthur" and it's the most devastating thing ever
Reason 7: Charles doesn't make fun of Arthur like. Ever. everyone else calls him stupid and not worth much else than basically a work horse. There are two times when Charles does say it but the first time is when Arthur makes a joke and he goes "you simple minded fool" but like. In a silly way. And the other time Arthur is being Problematic and Charles goes "I know you're not as tough and dense as all that"
Reason 8: Charles goes back for Arthur, finds his body, and buries him. And his grave isn't just the regular tombstone that anyone else's is. It's hand carved wood, on a mountain overlooking the morning sun because "That's what he would have wanted". And there's also flowers purposefully grown there as well
Reason 9: Arthur isn't often given a choice in who he gets to take on missions but when he does, it's always Charles.
Reason 10: Arthur is weirdly submissive towards Charles? Not in a sexual way, but he won't take orders from anyone else besides Dutch and Hosea, and then also Charles.
Reason 11: At the beginning Arthur doesn't just ride anyone's horse, he rides CHARLES'S horse. And also when he dies, Taima takes him to his final resting place
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hey so it's exactly 10 days after what i added to @cherrychapsticksteve's post, and it hasn't left my brain SO! Murphy, this is for you. i hope enjoy this full version!!!
pairing: steddie | word count: 7,536 | rated: T
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-🎸-
Eddie's chest heaves as he sprints farther into the woods.
It’s not the first (and certainly won’t be the last) time he runs from Hawkins’ finest. This time, Hopper and Callahan had busted him after he ran a stop sign (it wasn’t his fault, okay? He had to change the tape and didn’t see the sign or the patrol car stopped at the damn cross street).
The ‘failure to obey traffic signs’ was the least of his problems though, not after his damn lunchbox dropped out of the van when they asked demanded he “Take a step out here, Munson.”, and the last crumbs of the stock he’d gotten from Rick the week before last spilling out at Hopper’s feet.
They get him in cuffs, of course, but the second they turn their backs on him, he fucking books it.
Hands cuffed behind him, wallet chain jangling around his hip in time with the zipper of his jacket hitting the lowest button of his vest, both officers are wheezing way too soon after he starts playing getaway. He twists and spins out of the way of their grasps, but Callahan gets a second wind and nearly catches him, so he bolts; Tears off past his van and into the woods.
He's got some sense of where he's going, they busted him on Cornwallis and it should be a clear cut through the forest past Loch Nora and to the park, but it's even darker as he gets under the treeline. The fading twilight blocked out by the canopy above him.
Still, he took off into the woods on the west side of the street so as long as he keeps going straight, he'll be fine. 
Joke's on him though, nothing about him has been straight since before he came to live with Wayne (since he was born if what his science teacher Mr. Clarke once told him is to be believed), so it's no fuckin' wonder that he's gotten off course.
He dismisses it at first, the gradual incline he's following at more of a jog than a sprint now, but when he hears sirens go off way too close and he finds himself crashing into a meticulously trimmed backyard, it makes sense.
What doesn't make sense is why of all the gallivanting through the woods he'd just done, over and under fallen logs, rocks, through bushes and thickets, that his feet betray him on the half inch concrete lip of patio he hadn't yet slowed himself enough to avoid altogether.
The toe of his sneaker clips the very corner, his feet try to right themselves, but he's already hurtling toward this person's inground pool. 
In the split second he's falling, Eddie's brain does three things almost simultaneously: 1) realizes that whoever's house this is, there's only one light on. an upstairs window that must be a bedroom. Good. Maybe then he can pick himself up after this what-would-have-been super embarrassing fall and get the fuck back out of their yard without them noticing.
2) It has enough sense to turn his body to the left to take the fall onto the concrete on his shoulder instead of his face, though it means he'll definitely be rolling into the pool now. Damn. 
And 3) a simple thought of 'Aw, fuck.'
What his brain didn't account for was the edge of the pool. And that it should have considered its boney housing's downward momentum in the fall.
His temple collides with the edge where plastic meets stone, and Eddie Munson, freshly concussed and all but dead to the world, falls into the water.
-🍦-
The night Steve Harrington officially meets Eddie Munson is like every other.
At home, alone, waiting for it to be a reasonable time to go to bed. 
He’s leaning his desk chair back on two legs, his feet propped up on his mattress, flipping through the new June '85 edition of Vogue that came in the mail that day addressed to Linda Harrington.
Halfway through reading about Eric Stoltz in that new movie Mask (and seriously debating somehow guilting his parents into sending him one of these watches for a late graduation gift because shit that's a nice watch), he hears a splash from outside his window.
The sound makes him jump from how unexpected it is, and he would've for sure tumbled ass backwards off his chair if the wall hadn't been behind him.
He jumps up and yanks open his blinds to look out at the pool below.
There are fresh ripples weaving across the normally still top, and a shadow of something bubbling up from the bottom.
His guts twist up immediately; of course, it could be just some stupid deer, but it could also be any number of insane hell creatures, one of which had once used his pool as it's front door before.
"Shitshitshitshit," Steve snatches up his bat from under the bed and launches himself out his room and down the stairs in record time.
By the time he gets to the edge of the pool, the ripples have dispersed significantly, and the..whatever it is.. at the bottom is releasing bubbles slower than ever.
It takes about a second more for him to parse out the very obviously human shape crumpled under the water and--is that blood?
Steve dives into the water directly across from the bright red smear on the plastic lining.
His eyes burn with the chemicals, all he makes out of the person is a pale face and dark hair.
He hooks an arm under theirs and across their chest, and pushes up from the bottom.
Steve finds a foothold in the shallows and powers over to the stairs as fast as he can, pulling the limp man up onto the concrete.
He gets to work on them immediately, checking for a pulse, checking for breath..nothing.
"Fuck Fuck Fuck!" Steve starts compressions on his chest, counting in his head before sucking in a deep breath, pinching the guy’s nose shut, and sealing his mouth onto the blue lips below him.
Nothing.
"C'mon Munson," Steve starts counting compressions again. "Don't do this to me, man." It surprises him that this is when his brain pairs the pale features and dark denim to Hawkins' Super-Senior, but it's him alright. The vest is a giveaway, though he definitely looks like a completely different person without his bangs hanging over his forehead, or that dumbass grin he has when he's going on some tirade at lunch.
Steve closes his lips over Eddie's once again and this time, it works.
Eddie pitches forward, spewing chunky water all over the ground in front of him.
Steve supports his back as he does, "Shit, man, let it out, let it out." He looks down then, finally realizing Eddie's arms have been completely incapacitated by a pair of cuffs this whole time. 
His breaths are ragged, gagging while he takes in shaky breaths.
He continues to pat Eddie's back, smacking his palm over some demon-looking thing on the back panel of his vest.
"Breathe, Eddie, you got it." The older boy's dazed gaze turns to him then, "You back with me?"
"Harrington?" it comes out a wheeze.
“Hey Munson, you okay?”
Eddie looks around at Steve’s yard, to the pool, “Yeah I—Yeah..” he looks back at Steve, “What happened?”
“You fell into my pool, dude.” he chuckles, “I pulled you out and you weren’t breathing.”
“…huh.”
That pulls another snort out of him. “Yeah, ‘Huh.’.”
Eddie looks off into the woods, then back to his face. “And what happened before that?”
Steve pulls lightly on the cuffs. “I was hoping you could tell me that.”
“I don’t–I don’t know what..” he glances around, panicked, “I don’t know why I’m in cuffs, I–”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay man. You’re okay.” Steve rubs gently over the same spot he’d been patting, “Let’s get you inside, alright? Get some food maybe?”
Eddie takes a couple more breaths then nods, “Yeah…yeah okay, Harrington.”
He leads Eddie inside after he’s calmed down a bit more, sitting him down on one of the chairs at the breakfast nook and dashing quickly to the laundry room off the kitchen for a towel.
"Eddie, hey, y'gotta stay awake." he says, wrapping him up and giving him a light shake, "I'm gonna make you something to eat soon, but I wanna get you outta your cuffs first. Can you tell me how to get them off?"
"Yea-yeah," Eddie smacks his lips dryly, thinking hard, "Do you have a bobby pin?"
Steve studies him while he quickly searches his brain for where the last time he might've seen one. He's still dazed, still out of it (which is fair, honestly, he almost died after all), and is starting to shiver despite the towel.
He goes to the sink and pours a glass of water. "I think my mom has some. Let me help you drink some of this, and we’ll get you upstairs, okay?" he says, turning back to Eddie and keeping his voice soft, as if he'd scare him off if he spoke any louder.
Eddie's face scrunches in confusion, so he continues, "I’ll get you out of those cuffs and into the shower so you can warm up."
He watches Eddie’s expression morph as he registers what was said to him. His eyes go hooded, his cheeks tinge pink, and a smirk tugs at his lips. "Y'wanna get me naked, big boy?"
Steve rolls his eyes, his own cheeks prickling with heat. Eddie's hot okay? Objectively. He doesn't have to be into guys to know that. And flirting is flirting.  Sue him. "Shut up man," he laughs.
He holds the glass to Eddie’s lips and lets him drink as much as he wants, then sets the glass down on the table. He pulls gently on Eddie’s bicep, hooking an arm around the other man's waist, under an arm, and when he finally feels like he's got a good enough hold on him, they head to the steps.
They make their way up the stairs slowly, Eddie mumbling to himself the whole way. Steve hears a grumbled "Naked..", something that sounds like "..Gotta be dreamin',", and his own name, drawn out as if in disbelief "Steeeve Harrington...".
Finally, they make it to the master bedroom and Steve deposits Eddie on the edge of the bed. He immediately falls over onto his right side.
"Ow! Shit.. that fuckin' sucks."
"Your shoulder?" Steve asks, grabbing up a pin from his mother's vanity and turning back to the still damp man on the bed.
"Yeah, I–I must've fallen onto it before I went in." Eddie reasons, "Also, my head hurts."
"I bet," Steve nods, climbing up behind Eddie, "Now, you gotta tell me what to do here, man." he turns the cuffs slightly where he can see the little keyhole. "I've never picked the lock on a pair of cuffs."
"Ya don't say..'' he drawls sarcastically, "Just put the pin in my hand and I'll do it.”
Steve watches Eddie's fingers fiddle with the bobby pin; twisting it every which way while he feels out which side is which, which end of it he wants, prying it open with only a couple fingers, twisting into his hair, the pads of them ghosting along his lips, how they might feel opening him u--
Steve jumps up off the bed, causing Eddie to complain about the movement fucking up his concentration or something.
He ignores him, heading into the ensuite to start the shower.
Holy shit.
What in the actual fuck was that? He shakes his head, hard, willing his brain not to think those thoughts again. He is not gay or anything, everyone has thoughts like that sometimes. Tommy said so.
After starting the water and grabbing a new towel from under the counter, Steve takes a breath and steps back out into the bedroom.
He lets the breath out in relief when he sees Eddie's hands separate from the other, one palm pressed to the left side of his face and his other hanging loosely in front of him off the edge of the bed.
His soggy white Reeboks have also joined him on the bed, feet dangerously close to the pillow.
"Up n’ at 'em, Munson, gotta get you cleaned up." Steve calls, relishing briefly in making Eddie jump in surprise. "Can you get up on your own?"
Eddie groans, but slowly lets his feet drop back down to the floor.
Steve is back on Eddie's side of the bed before he's upright, offering a hand.
His open palm is puzzled at for a few long seconds, then Eddie places his hand in Steve's.
"Okay, up we go," he pulls Eddie to his feet, singing his arm around the other man's waist again and pulling Eddie's arm over his shoulders.
"Dizzy." Eddie complains.
"I know, I know," he soothes in return, "It's this way."
They shuffle into the bathroom and Steve lowers Eddie onto the closed lid of the toilet.
"We gotta get you out of your wet clothes, okay Eds?" The nickname slips through his teeth, but Eddie doesn't seem to mind it, nodding slowly.
Steve kneels in front of him, "Shoes first. Can you get your jacket and vest off for me?"
“Pushy, pushy,” Eddie teases, starting to pull his jacket off, “You really wanna get me naked, don’t you.” 
“Oh yeah. I am just itching for ‘pale, scrawny asshole’.” Steve deadpans in return, unlacing Eddie’s sopping sneakers and placing them in front of the counter.
“Oh now you wanna see my asshole? Buy a guy dinner first, Stevie.”
Steve tries to ignore the soupy feeling in his stomach at the nickname. It’s not even a new one, Tommy’s called him that before too and it never made his guts all squirmy like this.
It’s gotta just be because he and Eddie aren’t friends like he and Tommy had been.
That’s all.
But that’s not all, is it? His brain betrays him again, taking only half a second to imagine going on a date with Eddie, taking him to dinner, a movie, whatever. Taking him home, giving him a kiss goodnight.
The scenario is imagined, but the swirling feeling in his stomach is all too real.
He’s felt this before, the nerves and excitement of taking out a girl he really likes, getting to talk to her, get to know her, the possibility of getting to kiss her (and maybe more) at the end of the night.
But now it’s Eddie Fucking Munson that his gut’s all soupy for. Does he like Eddie? Does he want to Date him?
Steve feels his face heat up, his knees feel wobbly despite being on stable ground, his stomach erupts in butterflies—aw fuck. He likes Eddie. 
“Be careful with this, Harrington, It’s worth more than you’ll ever know.” Miraculously, Eddie managed to get his jacket off with the vest still wrapped around it. He passes the bundle gingerly over to Steve, like it's breakable.
He looks down at the crumpled clothing in his hands; he can see a couple patches that are hand-sewn into the denim, a broken zipper on one of the sleeves of Eddie’s jacket that has been pinned shut, a single button worn shinier than the rest. He believes him.
“I’ll take care of it, promise.” Steve says, placing the bundle up next to the sink gently. “Now, do you need help with the rest?”
Eddie immediately looks like he’s going to say no, but he seems to think better of it. “Uhm, can you help with these?”, he pats his legs, “I’d do it myself, but they’re gonna be a bitch to get off since they’re all wet and I’m still dizzy and don’t really want to bend over to pull off the bottoms but–y’know what just forget it, I’ll—”
Steve interrupts his rambling, “Eddie, it’s fine! I offered, didn't I? Help me out?” he gestures to Eddie’s zipper with his chin and starts to pull at the legs of Eddie’s skinny jeans. “I don’t get it man, why squeeze into these–”
The jingle of Eddie’s belt buckle pulls his focus, his eyes darting up to catch a flash of the buckle being undone. He averts his eyes, but a split second later, his brain registers what he’d seen and his gaze snaps back to it.
“Handcuff buckle? Really?”
“Don’t diss the buckle, Stevie,” Eddie chides, working the buckle loose. It continues to jingle as he works at it.
“How good of a buckle can it be if you can’t even get it undone?” Steve says, getting the second leg of Eddie’s jeans pulled down under his heel.
“It keeps me virtuous.” Eddie grits out, then huffs out a “Finally..” as the mini handcuffs fall open.
It was a bad moment to be done with what he was doing. Because Steve looks up just as Eddie unbuttons his fly and pulls the zipper down.
Steve shoots up off the floor, “Need some help standing up?” He asks, trying to cover for his minor freak-out. Eddie didn’t seem to notice.
“Yeah, thanks,” Eddie takes his hand and pulls himself up, “Don’t let me fall okay? I’m still feelin’ kinda…loopy.”
“Sure, man.”
So Steve stands there, gaze averted politely, as Eddie shimmies his jeans off and pulls his shirt off over his head.
He leaves him to it after that, pointing out the shampoo and soap, where he’d hung the new towel for him, and escapes to go find Eddie some new clothes.
He fishes a pair of black sweats out from one of his drawers, a pair that had been too small for him since sophomore year, and a plain black undershirt. He grabs up his personal favorite hoodie too, a Hawkins High Swim one, and a pair of thick fuzzy Christmas socks Mrs. Henderson had given him this past year.
After agonizing over whether or not to grab a pair of boxers too (he does, a new pair from the back of his top drawer), Steve wanders back into the master bathroom and deposits the pile on Eddie’s vacated seat.
The frosted glass door and added steam cloud Eddie’s form, but Steve can see the vague outline of him, standing just at the edge of where the water must be falling.
“I’m gonna start a quick load of laundry with your things, okay? I left you some stuff on the toilet.”
“‘Kay.” Eddie says softly.
It’s after he’s gathered up Eddie’s chlorine scented clothes that he notices, thinking belatedly to grab the discarded towel off the bed on his way back downstairs, but when he turns to grab it, he’s stopped short by a darkening stain puddled up on one end.
Right where Eddie’s head had been.
It all clicks. The smear of blood on the edge of the pool, Eddie’s complaints of his head hurting, of feeling dizzy and lightheaded.. And now Steve’s left him standing on his own in a hot-ass shower?!
He’s not sure how he heard it, but there’s a soft “Steve?” called out from the bathroom before a loud thump echoes out into the bedroom. 
-🎸-
At first, the shower felt fan-fucking-tastic, but not long after stepping under the hot, wonderfully pressured stream, he’d started feeling (even) more light headed.
He takes a deep breath, and leans on one hand at the back of the shower out of the spray while his head clears enough.
Operating in much the same way through the rest of the shower, he scrubs himself down, washing the chlorine from his skin and hair, wincing slightly when he stretches his shoulder the wrong way and when he scrubs over his right temple. There’s a knot there. Great.
He continues through the motions, taking as deep of breaths as he can, but rinsing the shampoo out of his hair is what does it. His arm stretched up, the more concentrated steam, the tilting back of his head…he bobbles forward out of the stream, hand on the wall again.
Where the hell is Steve? He’s gotta get out of here, gotta turn off the shower..somehow? Eddie’s vision blurs. Fuck.
“I’m gonna start a quick load of laundry with your things, okay? I left you some stuff on the toilet.” Steve says, back in the room as if summoned by Eddie’s desperate thoughts.
‘C’mon coward, ask him for help! He’s right outside the door!’
“‘Kay.”
‘No! Damnit!’ He’ll be fine, he just needs to breathe again, needs to sit down..
“Steve?”
Then he’s out (again).
-
When he comes to (again), he’s back on the bed, under the covers, and still kinda damp. And dressed.
“What the fuck?”
The bedroom door opens then, and he tries to sit up. Shit, why is he so sore?
He blinks away the fuzziness in his eyes only to see Steve goddamn Harrington hovering over him.
Steve pushes him back down onto the pillows. “Oh no nono you don’t. You stay right there.” he chastises.
“What the fuck, what happe—” The memories of the last couple hours roll over him all at once, along with heavy mortification that presses him further into the pillows. He covers his face with his hands, “Jesus H. Christ..did I pass out in the shower?”
“I’m sorry Eddie,” 
“Sorry for what? That I’m a klutz?” he mumbles out from under his palms. “Don’t think that’s your fault, Harrington.”
“You’re not a klutz, dumbass, but you do probably have a concussion…” Steve snarks back, and Eddie feels the mattress sink beside him, “Though I don’t know, maybe you always pass out in the shower?” 
Eddie can’t help but laugh. He scrubs his face a couple more times, then drops his hands “Only in the showers of my own personal saviors.”
He swears Steve’s face tinges pink at that, “Well aren’t I a lucky guy.”
“Well, seeing as how I’m dressed, and last time I remember, I wasn’t..” Steve’s face is blazing red now. “I think you must be, if you got a look at the goods.”
He waggles his eyebrows teasingly when Steve glances up at him, “Shut up man, I didn’t look at your junk any more than I had to.”
Eddie sputters at that, “How much looking is in your definition of ‘had to’?”
Steve rolls his eyes, “You passed out in my shower man, I had to get you out didn’t I? And I’m not about to leave you cold and wet so..I wrapped you up in a towel and got you up here.” he gestures to the bed, “Got you dressed and under the covers so you could sleep somewhat comfy while I made you something to eat.”
Eddie continues to eye him suspiciously, “So you got into my pants and then got them on me? That seems backwards…and sounds kinda fishy, Steven.”
“Oh my god..” Steve throws his head back in exasperation and scrubs his own face with his hands. “I got your pants on while you were still wrapped up in the towel, asshole, now do you want something to eat or not?”
“Wow…the kiss of life, a personal scrubdown (“I didn’t scrub you down!”), and now I get breakfast in bed? If I’m dreamin’, don’t wake me up.”
“Your dreams include getting concussed and passing out?”
Eddie shrugs, “To be fair, there’s usually less clothes and more making out, but I’m holding out hope.” He waggles his eyebrows again and Steve’s face flushes red, scoffing lightly 
“Don’t hold your breath.”
He feigns being shot in the chest, hamming it up and falling limp further into the pillows, “You wound me Steven, am I to be laid up for the rest of my days? Does his royal highness not believe in true love’s kiss?”
“I’ve already kissed you once, dumbass, Is that not enough for you?”
“It musn’t be, for my head and heart still ache!” he continues to bemoan, flailing a hand to his forehead. He’s honestly not quite sure why he’s still keeping up with the bit, painfully straight jocks like Steve don’t normally take well to his dramatics, and he’s not keen on getting punched right now.
But Steve doesn’t punch him. He laughs. 
He laughs and says “How ‘bout you eat something first, and if your head and heart still ache after that, I’ll give you a smooch.” Steve says, standing from the edge of the bed.
Eddie gawks at him, but allows himself to be helped up after his stomach growls loudly not a second later.
Steve walks down the stairs in front of him half-sideways in case he decides to pass out again, then helps him up onto a stool at the Harrington’s long kitchen island.
“I made eggs and toast, but I can get you something else if you like?”
Eddie’s stomach rolls at the thought of eggs, “Just toast, thanks.”
Steve nods, and passes over a plate with plain buttered toast stacked at least a half a loaf tall and a new glass of water. He takes a slice gratefully and munches on it slowly.
Suddenly, something clicks. “Wait, rewind, concussed? You think I might have a concussion?”
“You hit your head didn’t you?” he asks, rounding the counter with a plate of his own and perching on the stool next to him.
“Well yeah, but concussion?”
Steve shrugs, “I mean, I’m not 100 percent sure, but you definitely hit it pretty hard,” he gently pushes the hairs of Eddie’s right temple up and back, touching the fingers of his other hand to the knot he’d felt in the shower earlier.
“Sorry,” he says when Eddie winces, “There was a cut there too, but it wasn’t that deep so I cleaned it up and used a couple butterfly strips on it. Definitely looked worse than it was, but you said you didn’t remember what happened, that your head hurts, you’re dizzy, and I’m guessing the thought of eggs made you nauseous didn’t they?”
Eddie blinks at him once, twice, “I think I have a concussion.”
Steve barks out a laugh, tossing his head back with it. He looks back down at Eddie, still grinning, and time seems to freeze for a long moment.
Steve Harrington’s always been attractive, okay? And Eddie is only a man. The soft swoop of Steve’s hair, messy and flatter than he’s ever seen it in any normal circumstance, but it still looks good, the moles he can see scattered across his neck and arms and legs that Eddie’s always seen a big ol’ ‘KISS HERE’ over each, the relatively new softer smile he’d seen after Hargrove showed up and King Steve was tossed from his throne..
Eddie’s been so gone on Steve for so long already, and now he’s literally saved his life.
He never thought he’d ever want to be the damsel in distress, but now is, and he’s here, and Steve Harrington is his knight in shining armor.
It’s not just the possible concussion making his head swirl.
“Thanks, Steve.” he says, coming back to the present again–was he always this close? Do not look at his lips, Munson, stay focused. “Never thought this’d be how I’d ever be in your house though.”
Steve’s eyes flash to somewhere below his nose (‘Wait.. did he just–’), then he takes his hand away, dropping it back to his lap from where it was all but wrapped around the back of his skull. He didn’t even register that Steve was still holding him (‘Fuck!’).
“How d’ya think you’d ever be here then?” he asks, taking a large bite of runny egg.
“Oh y’know me, peddler of wares for any manner of frivolities my liege may hold.” He attempts to give Steve a bow, but gets dizzy almost as soon as his head tips forward.
Steve’s hands reach out to steady him, but drop when Eddie sits back up. “Yeah I didn’t get any of that.”
“Party favors, Steve-o, pills, ganja..all that fun stuff.” Eddie continues on at Steve’s understanding expression, “That’s what got me cuffed earlier.”
“Ah, so you do remember.”
“For the most part. They wouldn’t’ve even pulled me over if my tape hadn’t ended. I was trying to swap it out and ran a stop sign.”
Steve snorts, “What, did you try to bribe them with drugs?”
“I wish; that'd’ve been a much better story,” Eddie laughs, taking another bite of toast, “My stash fell out at Hopper’s feet when I got outta the van.”
Steve winces, “Bad break, dude. So what, you just decided to run? Why not before they cuffed you?”
“I dunno, man, I just bolted into the trees. Those old men couldn’t’ve caught me if they tried.”
“So you got pulled over, got cuffed for having drugs in your car, evaded capture by running through the woods in the dark, fell into my pool shoulder first,”
“Well I rolled into it, actually. I tripped on your patio, couldn’t catch myself on my hands, obviously, so I fell onto my shoulder first and kinda skidded slash rolled into the pool. Must’ve hit my head then too.”
Steve winces again, “That’s why the “Sorry” earlier.. I saw that blood on the lining and I didn’t even check where you could be bleeding.” He shakes his head in disappointment, “I shouldn’t’ve put you into the shower like that, it’s not good for you. And I know my way around a head injury.” Steve mutters.
“Sportsball will do that to you.” Eddie nods, grabbing a second slice of toast.
“It wasn’t basket–” he sighs, “Nevermind, is there someone you need to call or anything?”
Eddie’s stomach sinks. “Trying to be rid of me already, Harrington?”
Steve waves him off, “Nah. Your clothes are still in the dryer.” he says, standing up and passing around the island to the far counter where a phone book lays open. He picks it up and brings it back to Eddie, “I looked up Munson in case someone would be wondering where you are, but the only Munson here didn’t answer. A Wayne Munson?”
“My uncle,” Eddie explains, “He wouldn’t, not at this time of day. He’s already at the plant for the night.”
“Ah.”
“You can just give me a ride home, we stashed a key on the porch.” he tries to stand, pushing through the dizziness.
“Oh no you don’t. You’re staying right here, Munson. That’s an order.”
Eddie sinks back into his seat.
“Concussions are tricky, you know; You have to check on the person periodically while they sleep to make sure they’re not getting worse. If there’s not going to be anyone at home with you, you’d better stay here.”
“Whatever you say, Doc.” Eddie gives him a two fingered salute, and relishes in the feeling of making Steve smile again. 
-🍦-
It was easier than he thought it'd be to convince Eddie to get back to bed, this time in the guest room across from Steve’s own bedroom.
He’d thought the surprisingly charming weirdo (he was apparently already smitten with) would fight him on it, but he’d followed him back upstairs without complaint after a third slice of toast, though he had gotten a bit woozy about 2/3rds of the way back up.
“What, no smooch? I have to settle for common drugs?” Eddie grumbles as Steve shakes a couple Tylenol into his palm. Steve just rolls his eyes, ignoring him (and the giant swoop of his stomach), “I’ll be up for a little while longer, I have to get your shit outta the dryer and get ready for work tomorrow, so I’ll wake you up before I go to bed and wake you up again in the middle of the night.”
Eddie takes the offered glass of water from him, gulping down the pain meds, “I’m gonna be super grouchy at you, you know.”
Steve smirks at him, “I know, but it’s gotta be done.” He takes back the glass and sets it on the nightstand. 
Eddie’d nodded through a long cracking yawn, smiled, then murmured a light “G’night Stevie.” that made Steve’s heart squeeze.
“‘Night Eds, I’ll see ya in a bit.”
Steve, however, did not get to sleep as easily, lying awake in his room after waking Eddie the first time. 
He set his watch to wake him in three hours to check on Eddie again, and he’d already wasted a good half of it staring at his ceiling and thinking in circles about everything that had happened, everything he’d felt and thought about the town freak sleeping across the hall.
He’d started with gathering all of it up and trying to cram it away to some corner of his head and leave it there, lock it away from even himself, but to no avail. The…he supposed you could call them feelings...for Eddie had grown much too big already for any one of the lock boxes in the back of his brain.
Then he’d tried to rationalize them again like he had at first. Tommy had told him, very confidently, that everyone has gay thoughts sometimes, it’s normal to realize when a guy is just objectively attractive. To realize you’d totally hit that if you had the chance. 
Harrison Ford was the first person Steve’d brought up during that conversation, and Tommy agreed. So that was it, Eddie Munson was just the same as Harrison Ford. He’d definitely sleep with Eddie if there was ever a chance.
And was there? There’d always been rumors about Munson, at least since Steve’d started at Hawkins High, maybe even before, but were they true? How would he even ask that? “Hey Eddie, heard you might be..y’know..into guys and I think I might be too. Do you maybe wanna do something about that? Together?”
Yeah. Not likely.
And Eddie hasn’t looked at him any different than he ever had before, at least not in the handful of times he’s caught the older teen looking at him across the cafeteria or from down the hall.
Should he just..start flirting and hope for the best? What if he doesn’t like it and decks him for it?
Steve scrubs his face again, this is so much easier with girls.
…And that’s another thing, what about girls? He still likes girls. A lot, actually. So is he even allowed to like Eddie? He reasons it’s at least possible to because he does like Eddie. Wants to date him too, but that’s definitely not allowed.
He’s no closer to figuring out what he’s supposed to do when his watch beeps to life again.
Sighing, he throws his covers off, stands up, and sneaks across the hall to Eddie’s room.
“Eddie..hey! Eddie!” Steve whispers, gently shaking him awake. Eddie’s bangs are sticking straight out from his forehead, the rest of his hair fanned out in a mess below his head, his morning breath already starting to form…how can this be so damn attractive?
“Mmm…Hm?” Eddie’s eyes squint against the low light filtering in from the hallway, “Steve?”
“Hey, how are you feeling? Is your head feeling better?”
Eddie sinks back onto his pillow and lets his eyes fall shut again. “Uhm, it hurts, but less than it did earlier.”
“Good, that’s good.” A split moment of bravery comes over him then. “How about your heart?”
“Still aches,” He slurs sleepily in response.
Steve’s bravery and Eddie’s wakefulness fade with each second, so before they’re both gone, Steve leans forward and presses a kiss to Eddie’s forehead. “See you in the morning, Eds.”
-🎸-
When Eddie wakes up the final time the next morning, it’s on his own and from an amazing dream involving an epic battle, injuries, and a healing kiss pressed to his forehead by a soft-haired paladin.
He sits up, already significantly less dizzy than he’d been last night, and chugs down the glass of water Steve must’ve left last time he was up here. 
He gets dressed slowly, grabbing his freshly de-chlorinated Iron Maiden tee and trusty black jeans from the neatly folded pile on the nightstand. 
He’s wondering where his jacket and vest are when the sweet smell of breakfast hits him, “Oh, fuck yeah,” he says aloud to himself like a loser.
Eddie pulls on his socks, mismatched but bundled together anyhow, and steps out into the hall.
Steve’s voice filters up the stairs with a mouthwatering buttermilk smell, “Good morning Mr. Munson, I’m sorry if I woke you.”
What time is it anyway? Eddie winces internally on Steve’s behalf if it’s anytime past 8. 
“My name is Steve Harrington, sir, and I—” Steve sighs, “Yes sir, that Harrington.”
Eddie actually winces this time, halfway down the stairs now.
“No, no no, of course not, no trouble at all Mr. Munson, I’m calling because of Eddie.”
Oof, nope, that’s not gonna help ya, Stevie.
“I didn’t—no, not complaining about—no, he got hurt an–”
Eddie can hear Wayne’s voice through the phone now, even from where he’s stopped at the bottom of the stairs.
“I think he might have a concussion and—no, no! I wanted to let you know so you can—”
He decides to save Steve from the Wrath of Wayne and walks around the corner into the kitchen. He holds his hand out for the receiver, and Steve gratefully passes it over, turning back to his waffle maker (a whole-ass waffle maker! Lucky sonofabitch…).
“--And if you don’ tell me righ’ this minute how he got hurt–”
“Calm down, old man, I’m fine. Though I think Steve would’ve denied me waffles if you went on any longer.”
“Theodore Munson, you tell me what’s goin’ on right this second.”
“Whoa! Full name privileges are revoked for you,” He jokes, unable to resist riling up his uncle more. He pulls the cord around the corner and back into the hall, “Wayne, seriously, I’m fine. I just fell into Harrington’s pool a little. No big deal.”
“No big deal huh? Why’n the hell were you concussed in Loch Nora?”
“It’s a long story, but short version is I fell into Harrington’s pool and smacked my head. Steve made sure I was okay, and,” he cringes, “and Hopper might show up on our doorstep in the next couple hours.”
Wayne heaves a long sigh, “Goddammit, boy.”
“It’s all good, I’ll be home soon. I’m gonna pilfer some breakfast and get Steve to drive me home.”
“Wait, wha’happened t’yer van?”
“Okay, bye Wayne! See you soon!”
“Theodore Wayn—”
He breathes a sigh of relief when the phone is back on its cradle.
“Your uncle is scary, man.”
Eddie turns back to Steve’s voice, sitting on the same stool he did last night. Steve passes him a plate with two large golden brown waffles.
“Nah, he’s a big softy. He just worries ‘bout me.” he picks up his fork, digging into the fluffy waffles. They are unfairly good. “Thanks for breakfast, Steve, this is great!”
“You’re welcome man, y’want strawberries?”
They eat quickly, it was later than Eddie thought and Steve has the opening shift at his new-ish job at Starcourt’s ice cream parlor.
“Oh, um.. Ice cream’s good, right?”
Steve grimaces, “I feel like it’ll be very not good after this summer. Plus I have a dumb uniform I have to wear.” he gestures to the backpack he’d grabbed on their way out and tossed in the backseat.
They’re in Steve’s BMW now; his shoes and vest are still kinda damp and he’s gonna have to re-condition his leather jacket after the damn chlorine got to it, but that’s a problem for Future Eddie. “No college for you then? I honestly figured you’d be outta here as soon as you walked across that stage.” 
“I uh, didn’t get in.” Steve says, “Dad decided I should get a job at Scoops to teach me a lesson or something. As if I didn’t feel bad about not living up to his expectations enough already.”
Eddie doesn’t quite know what to say to that, but his silence seems to make Steve nervous. “It’s whatever though, I shouldn’t be dumping this all on you, sorry.”
“Hey man, it’s cool, sounds like King Harrington of Hawkins expected a lot of the Prince.” They’re turning into the Forest Hills trailer park now; Eddie has a fleeting thought about how he’s finally made it to where he’d been heading last night, and something about how a twist of fate (of feet?) diverted him to a whole new course he hadn’t expected, but was glad had happened.
Steve snorts, “Yeah, don’t think he appreciated the Prince parading around pretending to be King prematurely, huh?”
Eddie grins at him as the wheels crunch on the gravel pad outside his home. “A savior and a Prince is better than a King any day.”
He gets a grin in return, then it falls slightly as he glances up at the trailer. “Well, here you are, Munson. It was, uh, weird? But nice to meet you…Officially, anyway” he tacks onto the end, “Just don’t accidentally fall into my pool again.”
“Hmm, I dunno Stevie, it was nice to be pampered.”
Steve’s eyes crinkle up again when he laughs, “How would you rate your visit to Casa Harrington, sir? On a scale of four to five stars?”
“Hmmm.. probably a 4.7 out of five.”
“4.7?! Ouch Eds, that hurts.” Steve clutches a hand to his chest, “After all the waffles and wakeup calls,”
“Hey, I didn’t ask for those wakeup calls.”
“4.7…” he mutters again, shaking his head, “What would’ve given me a full five then?”
“Well you gotta lay off the wakeup calls for starters,” Eddie says, starting to count on his fingers, “More options for toppings at your waffle breakfast bar,”
“You had strawberries and chocolate syrup! What more do you need?!”
Eddie continues on as if he hadn’t heard him. “There was no lifeguard on duty, my towels weren’t warmed up for me, I believe I was promised a True Love’s kiss at some point and never got it, the concierge antagonized my uncle—”
He’s interrupted from his rant by a quick press of something to the corner of his mouth.
He whips his head around and Steve’s face is mere inches from his. There’s a blush high on his cheeks, his eyes are wide (and they’re hazel, how’d he not know that?!), “Did you just—”
“Eddie! Get your ass up here, now.” Wayne calls from the porch, causing them both to jump.
“Better get goin’ Eds.” Steve whispers, swallowing hard.
“Yeah, I–” he glances down at Steve’s lips, he has a few seconds, right? Enough time to—
“Eddie!” Nope.
His eyes stay trained on Steve’s nervous expression while his hand scrambles for the handle. He finally finds it, all but spills out of the car, and closes the door behind him once he’s out fully.
Without any more preamble, Steve backs out of their driveway, and leaves the park.
-🍦-
Steve doesn’t see Eddie for a couple weeks, wasn’t even sure Eddie would want to see him again after that stupid move he pulled, but when he finally does, it’s just before closing on a random Wednesday at Scoops.
“You missed, Harrington!” Eddie calls from the entrance to Scoops. He sounds like he’s out of breath.
“Eddie?”
“You missed!” he walks forward at a normal speed, despite seeming like he’d rushed to get here. He’s also shaking his finger at him, chiding.
“Where’ve you been, man?”
“Had to take care of the whole ‘evading arrest’ thing, but that’s not important. You missed Stevie.”
“Stevie?” he hears Robin mutter in disbelief.
“Missed what? I mean, yeah, I missed you too man, but what—?”
He’s cut off when Eddie finally reaches the counter, grabs his face in both hands, and kisses him square on the mouth.
Robin yelps in surprise, but that is the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. 
Eddie’s lips are chapped, but they slot along Steve’s so easy it makes his head spin.
After forever and no time at all, Eddie pulls back, dropping back to his side of the counter. “There. A real lips to lips kiss. None of that sly cheek shit, Harrington.”
Steve’s still a bit dazed, “Much better than the first one.” He leans closer to Eddie again, lips searching, but he’s held still.
“Whattya mean, ‘the first one’?”
It clears his head a bit, “Uh, the one where I saved your life? Obviously.”
“That doesn’t count!” Eddie’s hands leave his face, and he misses them already.
“It was lips to lips! Isn’t that what you just said?”
“It was CPR, Steven!”
“I can count it as our first kiss if I want to, Edward.” Steve crosses his arms across his chest.
“My name’s not Edwa—”
The long squeal of marker-on-whiteboard cuts him off, and he immediately flushes red.
Oh yeah, Robin…aw fuck.
He turns slowly to the window behind the counter; a single tally mark has been drawn into the left side of Robin’s YOU RULE / YOU SUCK board.
She caps the marker, sets it down, smirks, and says “Congratulations, Dingus.”
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this is also on AO3!
tagging a few of the people in the tags of the original who seemed interested in more! hope that's okay!!!
@inthewychelm @tboyeddie @brbsoulnomming @henderdads @ajs624 @sleepy-steve @eddiesdoeeyes @steddie-island @themeanderingty @hammity-hammer @spicysix @steddieasitgoes @willowworkswithwords @farahsamboolents @shares-a-vest @klausinamarink @fortheloveofgodletmein @sharpbutsoft @perseus-notjackson @zombiethingy @tchackdaw @eddiethehunted @smoothiecas @donttellunclesam @allyricas @living-force @xandriumbat @himbosandhardwear @everything-is-the-answer @sidebarre @m-owo-n @warmsole @occasionaloverboy @whoopssteddiefeels @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @extra-transitional @cecil5683 @makeadealwithdean @huymadovan
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kedreeva · 1 year
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So, the first thing we're having done is replacing the fuse box because we want to replace the AC and when the AC guy looked at the fuse box he went D: I'm just.... going to call an electrician to come look at this and make sure it's safe, and then the electrician came and looked at it and went "well... I've seen worse" but in that tone that says he definitely HAS seen worse, and then he looked at the ceiling and goes "is that... knob and tube wiring."
ANYWAY.
The electrician came back today and installed all the stuff and they were outside taking a break before wrapping up and these boys come running to tell me "one of your birds got out!!"
Now me, I'm like, one of three things has happened. #1-A bird has actually turned incorporeal and escaped my pens (I can only imagine maybe they broke the netting but our netting should be able to take it), #2 these boys got fooled by the way Pen 3's flight pen is set up and only THOUGHT a bird got out, or #3 there is a bird out and it is Not Mine. Or possibly it's a turkey. We have wild turkeys and there's a hen that's lost her flock and has been wandering around lately.
So I go out and I don't see a bird out so I'm thinking it must be #2 because they're walking out by Pen 3. I account for the birds in pen 1, and I start walking toward them and the apprentice goes I SEE HIM and points into the woods. Well, I can see Indie and the girls in pen 3, so I'm thinking okay, either it's #1 and polaris busted the new netting, or it's #3, but my luck it's probably #1. And then I see a young boy who is NOT my bird emerge from the brush.
And it's like Ah. Yes that's not my bird don't worry about it.
We head in, they wrap up, I close the barn pen birds into the barn and in their pen, I set out food and water for him. Just in case. I also closed pen 1 birds into just Pen 2 for now, and opened pen 1's door and put out some scratch where he'd be able to see it. I don't think he'll go in right away, but he hung around for a good while before walking, and it's just my birds and Pete's that are very nearby. Since he's still a baby, just a little 2yo boy, he's going to want to stay where there are other peafowl, and pete doesn't have boys to call him back.
We'll see if he sticks around, and if he'll come in to the pen. Pete said he wouldn't even come closer than his back field, not even to his peafowl, but he hopped up on the barn roof and watched me talk to my birds for a while, so I hope he'll decide it's safe here.
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lazyjellyfish300 · 3 days
Text
Camping with Miguel🏕️
AU Co-worker!Miguel O'Hara x AFAB!Reader
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Synopsis: an innocent camping trip with your friend from work, Miguel, what could happen?😏😏
WC: 1.1k
A/N: feeling self indulgent with summer coming soon. Tbh I think Miguel would HATE camping, he'll do glamping in a cabin but not a tent bc he's so huge and his back hurts, but let me dream for a sec okay🤭. Outline format bc lazy and tbh don't feel super good about this one and did it on a whim but it was fun to get out! Inspired by lyrics from the song "Candles" by Daughter. ���🏕️
TW: MINORS DNI,SMUT, (P IN V, FINGERING, CUM EATING) FRIENDS TO LOVERS, alcohol, fluff (MAYBE DON'T ACTUALLY GO IN THE WOODS ALONE ON A DATE WITH A MAN IRL BUT IT'S MIGUEL SO YOU'LL BE SAFE OFC 🫶🏽)
@leonsbimbogf @thatone-writer
------
-Imagine going camping with your older co-worker and friend Miguel, somewhere remote in a national park, deep in the forest with not a soul around in sight
-it was your idea since both of your dates bailed for the weekend, befriending one another initially when you both grumbled over Janet at the office's potluck, and the pitiful end of year pizza party, obvious tension between both of you for months, finally worked up the courage to ask him to do something, figuring you might as well since neither of you had plans. 
-Miguel makes you get in the passenger seat after seeing how silly you look behind the wheel of the enormous flatbed pickup truck you rented, both of you from the city have no clue what you're doing
-when you arrive, evergreen trees shrouding the small campsite, biting chill of mountain wind brushing your face as you step out, breathing in the crisp temperatures of the remote woods and releasing it with a deep sigh 
-you bicker over the tent, finally allowing Miguel to set it up himself, when he insists that you're doing it wrong while you pout in a camping chair, attitude slowly leaving your body as you begrudgingly eat one of the sandwiches from the cooler, some chips, and a cold soda, realizing you were just cranky due to hunger and the long drive.
-Miguel smiles, telling you playfully to save some for him, to which you flip him off. 
-he feels sweat trickle down his forehead watching you try to wield an axe and chop some firewood, approaching you with hands raised, telling you to slowly put it down. 
-you're suddenly feeling really turned on when you watch him roll up his flannel on his thick hairy forearms, grunting as he brings the axe down, chopping the wood like it's nothing, using his collar to wipe his forehead as he pants, those wavy brown locks of his falling in his face. 
-later, as the sun goes down, and the temperatures drop, he can't help but admire how adorable you look in your oversized sweatpants and hoodie, wanting to just pull you into his arms to stop you from shivering. 
-you share amazing conversation and silly banter you're throwing back and forth as you sit around the fire, your camping chairs pushed close together, your socked feet in his lap under a thick warm blanket with one of his arms resting on top of your legs, roasting you some marshmallows over the fire, telling him when to rotate the skewer so it turns a lovely golden brown on all sides (except he wasn't paying attention the first time, lighting it on fire on accident and you giggling as you watched him cutely panicking, trying to blow it out, but not before it became a crispy charred mess) 
-thinking about eating s'mores and your face getting warm as you nurse your Stella Rosa wine in your tumbler while he sips beer from a bottle.
"Did you feel a raindrop just now?" 
"No?"
-but soon the sprinkles come down harder and harder, until it's a full on rain shower, your fire burnt out and scrambling to save the food, your chairs, and anything else you don't want to get soaked as you run towards the tent, zipping it up behind you, sighing with relief and laughing together as you hear the rain get more intense. 
-"How long are we stuck in here?" You ask. Miguel shrugs, pulling you protectively closer to him.
 "I don't know..." He whispers.
-your teeth are chattering, you're standing there half hunched over in the small tent while Miguel quickly unzips the sleeping bags and lays the blankets over the large air mattress, telling you to get in next to him underneath your fortress of warmth as you cling to each other in the chilly tent. 
-thinking about how both of your shaking gets less and less frantic as you hold each other in the quiet tent, listening to the rain ceaselessly pelting the outside in lulling rhythm. 
-thinking about his chin resting on your forehead, the smell coming off his body smoky from the campfire with the faint musk of a man who's been working in the sun.
-he jokes that your body heat between both of you would transfer more quickly if you were both naked.
-his lips part as you look up at him, asking if he wants to test that theory. 
-your teeth are chattering again as you both struggle to strip down, frigid air obliterating both your bodies in a sea of goosebumps, practically pouncing on each other again under your nest of blankets when you're both bare, electricity and pure want permeating all throughout your body when you feel his skin against yours for the first time
-imagine his full lips with the slightest dust of the bitter cold on them then the feeling of his warm tongue sliding into your mouth with a little groan, deepening kisses gradually with an increased appetite than before, the crisp taste of beer on his tongue mixing with the fruity bittersweet wine on yours.
-Miguel's cheeky smile and the playful, sweet kiss he plants against your lips at you biting your cheek in embarrassment to stifle your whiny pleas as he coaxes his fingers inside your weeping cunt,
 "You don't have to be quiet, baby. There's nobody around to hear us, but you and me..." 
-the chill that runs through your body when you're nice and wet, ready to be fucked when he pulls you up so you're straddling his lap so he can watch your pretty face as you slide up and down his cock.
-you gently pull at the curls at the nape of his neck, fingers curling into fists as you drown inside scarlet seas. 
- you're looking at each other with a fresh set of eyes, wide like a crime scene, your passion the culprit. Lines that weren't meant to be crossed but you did it anyway as he slowly, gently, passionately, tenderly makes love to you for the first time. 
-he hypnotically paints your clit with his fat tip, warm and wet massaging between your lips, 
"Mirame...." (Look at me)
-a sharp intake of air between his teeth as your warm cunt hugs him so tightly all at once, his rough hands gripping the tender flesh of your hips, guiding you back up his length before letting you slide down it again, smirking when you whine
-steady soft tempo in the dark, as he soothes you with the sound of his voice, gently, and carefully moving his hips underneath you, rippling underneath you like a wave, until a ring of creamy arousal pools at the base of his cock, your love mixed with his as he brings it to your lips, telling you to taste it as you begin riding him again.
"We taste so fucking good together..."
-a steamy bubble of heat between your bodies shielding you from the cold of the outside as he rolls on top of you for another round, rainy prelude to a passionate night, bodies molded together like they were intended for the other despite never meeting before as the storm rumbled across milky skies underneath a dim crescent moon.
----
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v3nomly · 9 months
Text
「 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞. 」
꒰characters...꒱ Astarion x Reader
꒰summary...꒱ It's been a long journey, and you find yourself with proper lodgings for the first time in weeks. As well as an opportunity for a tender moment with Astarion.
꒰warnings...꒱You give astarion a handjob.
꒰a/n..꒱Like the slut I am I couldn't stop thinking about Astarion, so here's a short and sweet soft moment. Enjoy this short ficlet while I procrastinate my longfic!
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The smell of lavender and lemon hung in the steamy air of the room. A haze of mist collected on the small but ornate window veiling the otherwise bright moonlight. Leaving you to bask in the flickering candlelight, its warm orange flame casting a faint glow onto the normally pallid vampire's face. Astarion hummed as you brushed the plush rag across his skin. Crimson splotches stain his pale skin, like jewels on a nobleman. A king bathed in red, ruthless and victorious.
Slowly you work, removing each blemish, until the visage of the man underneath you is unmarred. The evidence of the day's events washed away, leaving you two in a welcomed reprieve. A comfortable limbo between the dusk of today and the dawn of tomorrow. Astarion's eyes slid shut, leaning into your touch. It was moments like these that you cherished, moments where he allowed himself the comforts of affection. You drop the rag outside of the tub, before returning your hands, fingertips ghosting over his face, across his lips, and down his neck. Only halting once your fingers had found their home, threaded into his thick, curly locks.
"Everything okay?" you ask, voice barely above a whisper, not quite ready to disturb the peace that had fallen over you, but unwilling to let him simmer in whatever thought ran rampant in his head. Astarion opened his eyes only partially. Allowing you the faintest glimpse of his entrancing ruby irises. His plush pink lips part his mind working between a sarcastic quip and the truth. Before his words fall into the latter.
"Ruminating," he responds, his brows furrowing, as if the honesty distresses him. He inclines his head, causing your fingers to slip from the tresses, His eyes opened, a softer look to them than what you'd normally see in camp.
It seems the closer you got to Cazador the more Astarion pulled away. A far-off look in his eyes in the moments of calm. Or a near-nervous energy veiled by the excitement that surrounded him during a fight. Then there were these moments spent with you. Where he allowed himself to be more truthful than he had been in a long time. Still, he made an effort, against all odds, against the very fiber of his being. He never hid away from you.
You lean forward, lips brushing over Astarion's jaw. Causing his arms to tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. The bubbly water sloshes with the movement, threatening to spill over the wood of the tub. "You deserve peace," you say lips connecting with his skin, as if solidifying your words. Moving to the other side, you repeat the action, "You deserve happiness." You move to his lips, hands capturing his face in such a gentle embrace that he questions if you are real. "Astarion?" you call softly, afraid that he's drifted back into his thoughts.
He lifts his hand, water falling from his fingers, and for a moment he hesitates. Astarion had never questioned something as simple as running his fingers through a partner's hair, but with you, the action felt different, more important. "I'm here," he responds, fingers carding through your hair. His nose nuzzles against your own, a comfort you've grown used to. A simple yet, intimate mannerism he's picked up since confessing that he had grown to care for you.
Even now, when his mind slips into thoughts of the past or whatever turbulent future lies before him. Astarion moves to reassure you because while he'll never admit it out loud, his eyes scream the answer. 'I don't deserve comfort. I don't deserve love. I don't deserve you.' Your heart aches, practically shattering each time the look makes it past his perfectly crafted mask.
"Let me take care of you," a silent plea, his lips part, as if surprised that someone would ever wish to do such a thing, and he nods once as if speaking would rouse him from this dream.
Gently you push Astarion back. His body shifted to bask in the bath once more, shoulders pressed against the rim of the wood, arms placed to brace himself on each side of the tub.
Your fingers dance down his chest, playful and teasing. Under the water, they maintain their path across his stomach, over the defined lines of his navel.
His dead heart skipped a beat, his eyes filled with anticipation.
Your hand wraps around his aching cock, so gently as if he might just break, and with you maybe he would. His head fell back as the motion of your hand slowly stroked him. Astarion's chest hurt, with a peculiar kind of happiness. Each tender moment with you —the ones where you touched him as a lover deserving and worthy of affection— wanes the pains of his past only slightly, but still enough for him to grow into someone new.
"What about you?" he asks, voice filled with hesitancy, a vulnerability that he seldom allows even you to see. As if the idea of not proving his worth remains a truly foreign concept.
"Your pleasure is my pleasure," you watch as Astarion's mind works through his thoughts.
"In that case who am I to complain," his words are meant in jest, but you've known him long enough—intimately enough— to know exactly what he means. It is distinct in the way that his muscles relax and his fingers untense from the tub's frame. Astarion trusts you and even if he dare not affirm it aloud —in fear of ruining everything— maybe he's allowed himself to love you.
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© 2023 v3nomly do not plagiarize, translate, or repost my writing to any other site.
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werecreature-addicted · 3 months
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Saying hi since your ask-box is open =D I adore your werewolf stuff. I would love nothing more to have big furry cuddles from a creature so strong his hugs might snap me in half. But he is soft and kind. And takes up all the space on the couch. Also, fun idea: I just moved into a tint apartment. How would a werewolf do in here?? Not much space in here. Hope he doesn't trip on things xD
listen in this economy he better fit. Unless he has werewolf generational wealth he better get comfy in an apartment. Honestly, as long as the building is close to a wooded area he'll be okay, he doesn't need a backyard as much as he might like one, he still might prefer a ground-level apartment so he can run straight out into the treeline at a moment's notice.
I hear what you're saying about the couch but please consider, who cares how much space he takes up you're going to be sitting on his lap anyway. the bigger problem is when he's in the kitchen. He takes up the entire small kitchen and makes it impossible to sneak by and grab a snack if he's in there cooking.
Trying to find a bed that fits in your tiny cramped bedroom and is also big enough for both of you is impossible. Again, you're better off just learning to fall asleep on top of him, you're not fitting a fucking king-sized bed in there just give up now.
Technically, the apartment doesn't allow pets, and of course, he isn't a pet but you have to be so careful to clean up any loose fur before your landlord comes by so you can keep your security deposit.... yeah fucking right you're living with a werewolf just go ahead and kiss that thing goodbye.
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beanxiv · 10 months
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NAGI X READER WHEN HE CALLS THEM A PAIN AND THEY GET SAD SO HE COMFORT THEM -🌷 anon
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waiting ; nagi seishiro ✩࿐
warnings: hurt/comfort (im so bad at writing hurt/comfort so pretend this is good), petnames, nagi being mean (at the beginning), communication issues :/, established relationship
notes: nagi is definitely the type to bottle in all of his frustration and then take it out on you unintentionally, but its ok i can change him.
wc: 1.9k
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"sei, can we watch a movie together?" you sit on one end of the couch while nagi lays on his stomach next to you (feet by your thighs and head facing the opposite arm rest) taking up the rest of the couch. his nose is buried in his phone screen, explosions and other video game sounds blasting from the speaker.
"uhhm, 'kay. lemme finish this round." your boyfriend mumbles, not bothering to look over his shoulder at you.
you sigh, but decide to stay patient. "okay, baby." you fiddle with the tv remote as you wait. when a couple minutes pass you tilt your head to glimpse at nagi's face. "done yet, shiro?"
"no. wait."
you frown, "okay.. but you've been playing for an hour before i asked you to watch a movie and you said you'd finish this round fifteen minutes ago."
"oh, my bad. i accidentally started a new round. i have t'finish the round now, can't pause an online game. just gimme a few more minutes." he still barely acknowledges you, nothing more than a slight shrug of his shoulders.
when another ten minutes pass your patience starts to wear thin. "seishiro, do you want to watch a movie together or—"
"i said wait a few minutes. the round is still goin— ah, fuck! you made me die.." nagi clicks his tongue in annoyance. pushing up off his elbows to sit up and angrily tossing his phone on the carpet. "goddamn, y/n. you're such a pain sometimes."
you blink, an ache building deep in your chest. "what?" you swallow the lump in your throat away. "i asked you if you wanted to watch a movie. you said yes and told me to wait. i waited fifteen minutes and asked again. you told me to wait. i waited again. i stayed patient for thirty minutes. now you're calling me a pain? after barely even looking at me today? you haven't talked to me since you came home from practice three hours ago!" you scoff in spite of yourself, "..really, seishiro. if you wanted space, you could have told me."
you see the weight of nagi's words start to process in his eyes, "shit— i didn't mean that, y/n. wait—"
"i'm tired of waiting, nagi." with that you slide off the couch and walk into your shared bedroom, slamming the door shut before nagi can see tears of frustration threaten to spill over your eyes.
when the door shuts loudly nagi flinches but doesn't move from the couch. he sits there, swearing under his breath and running a hand down his face. "i'm such a fucking idiot.." he wishes he could kick himself for his stupid mouth. the image of your face completely falling into bitter sorrow when he called you a pain replays in his head. regret freezes his veins, and his own heart starts to ache each time your expression fills his brain.
he swears at himself again before jumping off the couch and rushing to your shared bedroom. he hesitates but manages to knock twice on the door.
"y/n, baby. i'm so sorry. please," he chews on his lip. please what? he doesn't even know what he's asking for. please open the door, please forgive me, or please talk to me? he doesn't know. he'll take any option at the moment.
he hears you shuffle to the door and sniff. are you crying? his heart breaks a little bit more at the thought of you hurt because of his idiocy.
"nagi, i meant what i said." you still haven't opened the door. but talking through the wood is better than nothing. "i'm tired of this. it's not the first time this has happened. you've ignored me a lot before. i understand if you want time for yourself, i do too sometimes. but don't tell me you're going to do something with me and not mean it."
"i know, y/n. i'm sorry, i just.." nagi isn't known for his way with words. he's not used to voicing his every thought. but he's willing to make the effort to fix his mistake and make it up to you. "practice sucked today. i was in a shitty mood after and i took it out on you when i shouldn't have."
he hears you sigh. the lock on the door clicks and you pull the door open. nagi searches your face for any indication of your reaction. his heart drops at the sight of your red, puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.
he wants to pull you tight against himself— kiss the hurt away— but he holds himself in place. he doesn't want to push his limits until you completely forgive him.
"why didn't you just tell me? we've been dating for so long now, do you still not feel comfortable enough to tell me things?"
"no! i do. i just— today was so stressful, i just wanted to lock myself up in the house and play games to get my mind off of it. i didn't realize i'd been ignoring you all day, i'm sorry."
you let out a laugh that doesn't quite reach your eyes, "see? nagi, you could have told me all of this hours ago. none of this would have happened." you have a bitter look in your eyes that tells nagi you're still upset. "it would've been that easy. just a simple 'hey, y/n i had a rough day today, and i'm not really in the mood to do anything today.' and i would have respected that and moved on."
he steps forward and takes your hands in his, "angel, i'm sorry. really sorry for calling you a pain. i swear i didn't mean it. it was— i was projecting my frustration onto you when i should have just communicated it and found an output a different way. you're the farthest thing from a pain. you're— you're honestly the reason why i'm living my life," nagi breathes out a laugh. "if it weren't for you my routine would just be wake up, football, games, eat, sleep, repeat. and not only that, you're beautiful, inside and out. and you make me laugh, and you make really good food for me, and you help me take care of choki. actually, not only that— you help me take care of myself too. honestly, i don't know if i could survive without you, y/n. so please, please forgive me, angel."
you chew on your bottom lip, "nagi—"
nagi winces, "and please stop calling me that."
this pulls a ghost of a smile onto your lips which sends a flutter through nagi's heart. you think to yourself for a moment and the smile fades slightly. "seishiro, a relationship works two ways. you know that. for it to work you have to talk to me. tell me everything— if practice went well, tell me. if it was absolute shit, still tell me. if you feel like doing something, tell me. if you don't, tell me again. i didn't start dating you just for the title, sei. i want to be with you. i want to know what makes you happy, what stresses you out— i want to know everything you'll allow me to. in exchange, i'll trust you with my heart too."
nagi presses his lips together in a tight line, "i trust you with everything. you know i do. fuck, i trust you with some things more than i trust myself." nagi sighs through his nose, his eyes a window of rare vulnerability. a window that opened only for you. "i can tell you anything, y/n, i know i can. i just don't know how. it's not something i do. i mean before you moved in with me, i lived alone during high school-- until blue lock-- and i didn't talk to anyone except reo in school. i'm not used to talking about myself and what's on my mind. the only thing i ever spilled my thoughts to was choki— my cactus for fucks sake," nagi laughs dryly. he felt pathetic telling you something so stupid. it reminded him why he kept his heavier thoughts to himself. but...
"well, you have me now. ah, and choki too if it helps," is that a smile? you're smiling— only slightly, but a smile nonetheless.
does that mean you've forgiven him? no... even if you do forgive him, he still owes you a proper apology. he wont let you walk away without it.
"i think you're a better listener than choki," nagi admits. when he expected you to scoff in his face and turn away, you stayed and continued talking with him. "i just took to long to understand that. and i promise to work on it. i'm sorry, angel. i never want to hurt you, i only want to see you happy."
"thank you, 'shiro." you murmur, finally looking up at him. nagi searches your expression for any remnants of pain and he sees none, as soon as he sees the soft look in your eyes he exhales, all of his worry leaving his chest. you smile slightly, squeezing his hand a bit. "i accept your apology. and ill try to be patient too, i understand it takes time to completely share all of your thoughts and feelings, so i won't push if you don't want to tell me anything, but at least tell me that much if you don't feel like talking."
nagi nods, "i will. i promise, i swear i'll work on it. thank you, yn. thank you for forgiving me." he can't help himself anymore, and pulls you snug to his chest, his arms right around your waist as he buries his head into the crook of your neck. "i love tou so much.. i would beat myself up if i lost you because i'm a moron."
you giggle a bit, your hand coming up to card through his hair. "mhm, you are kind of a moron."
"yeah?" nagi chuckles back, sighing softy. you feel his breath fan against your neck and pull him from the crook of your neck to look at him.
"yeah, you are. but as long as we both work on communicating, we'll be okay." a grin tugs at your lips as you look at your boyfriend.
nagi nods, his soft white hair swishing a bit as he does. "i promise t'communicate better, angel. or at least i'll try my best for you."
"and that's all i'm asking for," you murmur, the grin still on your face as you lean towards nagi to plant a kiss on his lips.
nagi returns your kiss before pulling away to look at you, "you wanted t'watch a movie together earlier.. right?"
"are you sure?" you chew on your lip, looking at him with a furrow between your brows that he wants to kiss away. "if you're still not feeling up to it, it's oka-"
"i want to," nagi interrupts, pulling you in by your waist to kiss between your brows. "so let's go cuddle and watch something."
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taglist : @astruosie @saesins @dreamlessimp @hanmasdolly
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©beanxiv — all rights reserved. copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform or by any means is not allowed.
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fairyhaos · 4 months
Text
seventeen and which mythical beings they are
requested by @mesanthropi ^^ physically held myself back from going on rants for shua's and hao's and jeonghan's pls (iykyk)
masterlist
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seungcheol
vampire. formidable, mysterious vampire seungcheol from a powerful family name who lives in a huge, ominous castle and somehow manages to make sucking blood look sexy… shakes he's so fine oh my god. honestly vampire!cheol with glowing red eyes and an intimidating presence and the most smug fucking smirk in the world is such a vibe, and he also has the whole “i was born centuries and centuries ago” old hag thing down to an art
jeonghan
siren. specifically a mermaid-type siren that lives in the sea and has a pretty iridescent tail. water-dwelling being jeonghan just makes so much sense to me bc he has their fluidity and their peaceful and their mischief and also??? jeonghan with a shimmery mermaid tail and captivating siren voice???? i'd willingly drown myself for him actually, siren song be damned. he has the silvery voice of a siren and the ethereal looks to be one fr
joshua
wood nymph. bambi-eyed wood nymph joshua who communicates with the birds and tends to his forest and has flowers weaved in his hair and stars embedded around his eyes… the nymph!joshua obsession is Real guys and i am definitely a victim of it. curly haired joshua is just sooo wood nymph coded and i can see him as some soft-spoken, pretty being who lives in a birch tree and guides stray travellers when they get lost in his woods
junhui
witch junhui with his black cat familiar and his dented cauldron and his cottage in the middle of the forest!! witch junhui with his mini apothecary and his goofy-sounding spells and his eyebrow permanently half-singed bc his enchantments keep backfiring!! witch junhui with his soft spoken words and bright laugh and total kindness to everyone who happens upon his home!! witch junhui is so so dear to me and he really is just. a witchy little dude
hoshi
shapeshifter. does this idea feed into his furry agenda a bit too much? yeah, it kinda does, but oh my god just imagine tiger shapeshifter hoshi who's part human but can turn into a large, big-fanged and bold-striped tiger at a moment's notice. he really just genuinely gives shapeshifter vibes, and every year he schedules one week where he'll traipse off into the nearest mountains and blow off some steam in his tiger form for seven days
wonwoo
dragon. okay so this is kinda not a humanoid mythical being, but wonwoo is soooo big friendly dragon coded. i can imagine him as a large, red scaly dragon, snoozing atop his massive hoard of gold in a secluded cave in the forest, little wisps of smoke coming out of his nostrils as he snores contentedly. that doesn't mean he can't be scary if he wants to tho, and can burn down any puny humans who try to steal his hoard in the blink of an eye
woozi
demigod. part-god woozi is just such a vibe okay, and he rlly does give off a hercules-type feel, where he can do inhuman things and seems almost untouchable in his awesomeness, even though he's right there in front of you. and he has a hatred of the gods and a mild tolerance for humans but at the end of the day, he appreciates and loves both for all that they do. (also in a percy jackson demigod sense, he is totally an apollo's kid and no i don't make the rules) 
minghao
fae. y'all know how far my fairy minghao agenda runs by now and like ??? can you blame me ???? the idea of sassy smol hao with fairy wings and a squeaky voice is cute and all, but also i just think he fits the idea of the entire tall, mysterious fae folk really well too. with his pointy fae ears and his shrewd gaze and his ability to say half-truths and riddles and give sage advice about how to live your life all at once, he really is very much a fae-like person. 
mingyu
some sort of demon. he's so loud and bright and kind that, despite his huge presence and glowing eyes and the horns protruding out of his mess of fluffy hair, you don't even register that he's some dangerous, hellish creature before something happens and he just snaps, the air around him visibly darkening as he tears after the thing that caused him to lose control. he's so sweet and kind but so undeniably dangerous all at once. 
dokyeom
elf. i'm thinking lord of the rings elves, except i haven't actually watched lord of the rings but i have this idea of them being tall and rich and elegant beings, and it makes me think of dokyeom. he's just so pretty, and the elves rely on the natural elements to survive, right? dokyeom is just so sunbeams peeking through forest leaves, so little rabbits bounding through the undergrowth, so hand-whittled arrows and folk songs around a campfire and tall, tall, beautiful elves. 
seungkwan
will o’ the wisp or a sprite. he's endearing and mysterious, and once you gain his favour he's staying glued to ur shoulder for the entirety of your dangerous quest through the magical woods. he's very chatty and also very elusive, constantly flitting around in the air and disappearing in a wink of light before appearing on your nose once again. you can't tell if he's a help or a hindrance, but he's cute and bright and makes the journey a lot better
vernon
a smurf. smurfs count as mythical beings okay, and while ive never actually watched any smurf movie thing ever, i think vernon would make an absolutely brilliant smurf. they give off silly goofy weird adorable vibes, and that's basically vernon in a nutshell. also smol vernon with blue skin and lives in a mushroom looking house??? that's kinda cute and actually something that vernon might wanna do irl not gonna lie
chan
nine-tailed fox. he's so mysterious and sexy and kind of dangerous but like. his unbelievable handsomeness kinda outweighs the danger. honestly i don't really have an explanation for this other than that the Vibes r there for some reason and he'd look so cool with those glittery wisps of magic threading through the air around him as his eyes glow a mysterious colour before he launches into a kdrama-esque fight sequence against the latest monster
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Alright, real full hc ask & this time it's full of angst >:D
So, one night MC has a really bad nightmare where the M6 die horribly, and wake up from it in a panic that only increases when they realize their beloved is not in the bed with them.
Turns out the M6 are just in the next room over getting a drink or something, & have to rush back to the bedroom to comfort MC
The Arcana HCs: M6 when MC has a nightmare of them dying
~ @themushroomgoesyeet here are your headcanons, friend, thanks for the lovely ask! ~
CW for descriptions of loss, grief, and panic. more notes at the end regarding the content of MC's nightmare
-- to set the scene --
It's dark. Dust and smoke settle in your lungs as you stumble through the streets of Vesuvia, trying to get through the press of bodies making a hurried trek towards the docks. You just want to get to your shop, you just want to see the lantern and your beloved's face in the window, you just want to be -
Home.
Your body goes still, cold as the grave as your blood sinks into your feet. Home is gone, the splintered apothecary's sign creaking as it swings from the chunk of rubble on the sidewalk. You stumble forward into the charred pile of wood and stone, searching for a sign, a scrap, anything, to tell you that something has survived. That someone has survived. It's hard to recognize it at first, coated with the same grey dust and poking lifelessly out of the rubble, but as you crouch for a better look, there no mistaking the thing you've lovingly grabbed a thousand times.
It's their hand.
You jolt awake when your voice chokes on a scream. The room's gone dark, the bed you're lying in is missing a body, and the pillow by your head has gone cold. You're not sure what comes out first - the panicked sob from the horror of losing them, or the fearful cry of their name as your nightmare seems to come true.
Julian
He's going to feel bad about this for weeks - he'd stayed up researching in his medical textbooks waaay past when he'd promised to come to bed
He thought he heard you call his name, and, surprised at how late you're awake, he came upstairs to see if you needed anything
As soon as he gets close enough to hear you panicking, he's bursting into the room so he can pull you into his arms
He's asking what happened right away. He's not going anywhere or trying to move you until you can talk to him
He's also going to ask you what the dream was about, if all you can say at first is "nightmare." He's learned the importance of voicing your fears and he doesn't want to leave you alone in that story
The best active listener. Brushes your hair out of your eyes, sighs and winces with every horrific detail you share, and murmurs empathetic responses to each description of loss
Ultimately ends up talking through your fears with you. He knows you've had to watch him die before, he understands why reliving it would be so traumatic, and he wants to help you process it
He'll guide your hand to his pulse point and breathe in time with you, reminding you with every exhale that he's alive and well
Asra
They'd fallen asleep next to you earlier, but they'd also told you before bed that there would be a celestial event tonight that they didn't want to miss. They're stargazing on the rooftop
He's jolted out of his reverie by a sudden, sharp tug on his bond with you. He can feel your magic scrambling for any sign of his presence and the underlying panic and fear
They don't hesitate, they're running down into the house and sprinting for your room as fast as they can to make sure you're ok
As soon as he spots you, he's putting himself where you can see him and asking if it's okay to hold you. He's quick to check you over for any injuries while he asks you what's wrong
Once they know it was a bad dream, they're taking you by the hand and collecting pillows and blankets to take to the roof. They've already got tea and snacks up there from their stargazing session
He buries you in a pillow pile with him under the night sky, where there's nothing to see but the stars and each other, and pulls your hand to his heartbeat while he tangles all your limbs together
They remember what it was like to lose you, and the comfort they craved from you as they grieved. It's oddly cathartic to give you what they needed and stay with you as you go back to sleep
Nadia
Her insomnia was acting up again, so rather than idle away time in the dark, she went across the hall to her office to get some work done. There's always a stack of proposals waiting her approval ...
She had a hard time hearing you from two rooms away, but you sounded so urgent she put her teacup down immediately and hurried over to investigate
You can imagine how her heart wrenched when she saw you sitting up in her bed, wearing the same expression she used to feel when she was trapped in a coma full of nightmares
To say that she's beyond sympathetic is an understatement. She's climbing in bed next to you and pulling you into her lap right away
She'll hold you until you calm down, and then invite you to come sit with her in her warmly-lit office and share her tea
If you want to talk and process what you dreamed about, she'll listen closely and come up with ways to help you feel safer
If you want to focus on something else, she'll pull out her favorite book of Prakran poetry and read you her favorite verses
And if you're too tired to think and just want to sleep in peace, she'll lay you down on her sofa with your head in her lap, gently petting your head to the sound of her quill on the parchment
Muriel
He'd woken up because he was thirsty
Normally, you keep a jug in the hut filled with drinking water, but it hadn't been replenished before bed so he went out into the clearing to draw some more from the spring
When he came back inside to see you huddled and sobbing in the furs, his first instinct was to look wildly around the room for any signs of danger and violence while he reached for his staff
Once you spot him and show relief, he gets a better idea of what's happened and joins you on the bed while he quietly asks if you're okay (you're obviously not, but it's the best he comes up with)
He knows what horrific nightmares are like. He's not going to let you hide away and work it out by yourself
As soon as he knows it'll help, he's holding you as closely and firmly as you need him to
He'll settle against the wall by the bed, wrapping both of you in the weight of the furs while Inanna lies across your feet
And then he'll tell you in a low, rumbling murmur about all the good things you have around you, replacing each bleak image with your warm, safe reality. You have the soft clothes on your back, the sound of Inanna's panting, and the brush of his lips on your face
Portia
She woke up annoyed because Pepi felt the need to sit on her face and screech into her ear until she refilled her food bowl (in classic cat fashion, said food bowl wasn't even completely empty)
She was too sleepy and distracted with her task to hear you, and didn't know what had happened until she walked back into the bedroom and saw your state. Once she did, she was wide awake
Immediately turns on all the lights to make it easier to stay present and asks you whats wrong
A nightmare? She doesn't get many of those, but from the look on your face, it must have been horrific. You need a change of scenery and lots of tender loving care before she goes back to sleep
She'll set you both up in front of the fire in the living room, carding her fingers through your hair and bathing your face while you calm down enough to tell her more
Once you've told her everything, she's finding you both a distraction. She's making hot chocolate while you read aloud
She doesn't want you to have to go back to sleep in the same spot where you panicked, so she sets up a pile of blankets in front of the fire and snuggles up with you before falling back asleep
Pepi feels so bad she brings you her catnip toy to help you relax
Lucio
He had to use the bathroom
Which, at the particular inn you're staying at, involves him leaving the rented room and walking down the hallway because he doesn't like the lingering smell of using the chamber pot by the bed
When he walks back in to the sight and sound of you panicking, he starts panicking too. If it could scare you, it must be horrifying
The sound of him panicking is enough to ground you in the present, and he's never one to resist you yanking him into bed
Nor is he one to resist you holding him close. Squeeze him as tight as you need to, MC, he'll squeeze you right back with no complaints. Though he's still worried and confused
Pesters you until you tell him about your nightmare - which, after the warzones he's participated in, isn't hard for him to imagine. He's a little shaken up too by the time you finish
Spends the next several hours telling you why what you saw isn't going to happen. You're the best magician there is, MC, and he's the best fighter, and together you're too strong to die (again)
He'll offer to keep watch, if it'll make you feel safe enough to sleep again, though he'd rather doze off together
Holds your hand every night for the next few weeks
A/N: if the content of MC's nightmare sounds familiar to you, that's because it's a fraction of the horrific reality that thousands (if not millions) of people have been suffering through in Gaza since early October. I haven't been sure how to carry my real-life concerns into a space as relatively insignificant as a headcanon blog, but here we are.
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coryosgirl222 · 4 months
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primal/prey w/ coriolanus
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coryo LOVES a good chase.
peacekeeper!coryo will chase district!reader around the woods, calling out for you, trying to lure you out so he can fuck you silly :3
"where have you run off to, my dove?"
"it's okay, little dove, you can come out!"
you cover your mouth with your hand to mask your breathing, but you can't help the small whines that escape your mouth as you rub your thighs together, his voice and the way he searches for you are so incredibly sexy!!!
he'll probably laugh at you for it, because he can hear you, and he knows you're having fun, the anticipation of being fucked just killing you.
when he finally finds you, if you run away from him OHHH he's devilish. he breaks into a full sprint and wraps his arms around your midriff, bringing you both to the ground. you're panting, but he's barely even broken a sweat bc of the peacekeeper training
"you really thought you could escape me, sweet girl?"
ohh he fucks you GOODDDD. he has you gripping the tree he has you pressed against, whining and whimpering.
he loves how desperate you are for him.
you're the bunny to his fox!!!
his cock hits places you didn't even know existed, and he's groaning in your ear, kissing up and down your neck :hearteyes:
even though you tried to "escape" him, you still love when he fucks you dumb <333
you're his little bunny <3
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cobrabobra · 1 year
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Dating Carl headcanons:
I think the most important part that people often forget about Carl is a teenager, ani insecure one. How could be not be if he literally has a hole in his face?
He surely knows that his skills are exceptional, that he knows how to handle things, that he's brave and pretty fucking cool, but every teenage boy has his insecurities and Carl is no exception.
I could imagine him being anxious after arriving in Alexandria, seeing that there are boys his age, he begins to think that maybe you'd leave him, that he was your boyfriend because he was the only choice.
He constantly tries to show you that he is in fact the best option for you, trying to protect you, provide for you, going on runs alone just to get you something. He's willing to risk his life just to make you see what he'd do for you.
And that brings another problem, Carl risking his life all of the time. Going alone to the woods, going to the Sanctuary, provoking Negan and his people. But I think that's a mix of frustration, being angry at how things are and wanting to change them and the need to show everyone that he's independent and capable of handling himself.
Another one of Carl's insecurities is not being able to express his emotions very well, he's used to bottling everything up until it explodes and he doesn't want to do that to you, but he doesn't know how to do it differently. He's scared to share, scared that you won't care or be troubled by it when you already have a lot of things on your head, he's scared that you'll get scared of him, that he'll push you away if he shares.
He never considered himself as handsome, he always was the pretty boy type, but that didn't bother him if it didn't bother you. Well, it didn't bother him until he got shot, then he wasn't pretty or handsome or anything other than a disgusting, ugly freak. He tried to hide that it bothered him, that he felt you didn't love him anymore, that you were scared of him, or grossed out. Which you probably were, everyone would be, but it quickly became normal, it wasn't gross or scary, it wasn't beautiful, it was normal, it was a part of him.
"Carl, are you here?" you knocked on the bathroom door, he was in there for quite a while and you were worried. "Can I come in?"
"No, please, don't" his voice was weak and shaky, like he was crying.
"Carl, please. At least tell me what's happening" you begged, your heart beating hard in your chest, you were scared, you needed to know what happened.
"It's just- it's my eye" he sighed, trying to calm himself, he didn't want to look weak in front of you. "I'm okay, just don't come in"
"Alright, I won't. Just- you know I love you, right? Nothing will change that" it was a promise, it didn't matter what he'd look like, what he'd become.
Carl never fully accepted his eye, but it became easier to live with it, thanks to you, he understood that this was a part of his body, that it can't be changed and that it didn't change anything between the two of you, that helped a lot.
You helped him a lot, not just with the way he looked at himself, with his emotions, but you saved him countless times, you cared for him, protected him and he wanted to do the same for you. He never was the best with expressing his feelings so that was his way of showing you his love.
You still did the usual couple things, holding hands, kissing, cuddling, fuck, Carl started to panic the second you were beyond his reach. You were his safe place and he needed you all the time.
It's just the talking about his feelings part that was hard for him.
He wasn't the romantic type, he didn't get you flowers or jewelry, but he made breakfast for you when he woke up before you, he made sure to wrap you up in a blanket when you were taking a nap on the couch. He showed his love through doing these little things for you.
He loves spending time with you, baking together, reading together, taking care of judith together, going on walks together, showering together, everything you did, he wanted to be close, to keep an eye on you.
But that doesn't mean he's clingy, he wants to be near, not to sit in your lap and kiss you all the time (he kinda does want to, but he doesn't do it).
If anything happens to you, I pity the fool that tries to stop Carl from being with you. He'll kick and punch, threaten and beg, anything to be there for you when you need him.
And if someone did something to you, don't worry, they're already dead, we all know that Carl's a little psycho and he'll do everything for his family. He tries to be calm and rational but if somebody lays thair hand on you he simply can't control himself, plus it's not like they don't deserve it.
He'd try to be his best self for you, it was because of you that he wanted Negan to live, he lost himself for a while and you pulled him out of it, because of that he believes everyone, well maybe not everyone, most of the people deserve a second chance, people can change.
He knows you're both young, maybe too young for him to even think about it but he can imagine having a family with you. The way you take care of Judith, hold her in you arms, the way you talk to her, kiss her forehead, play with her, he wants that for his own kid.
He wouldn't settle for just any ring, if he proposes, he's doing it right. He searches for not only the prettiest ring but also the coolest looking one.
When it comes to touching, Carl isn't particularly clingy, but he likes to keep a hand on your thigh, squeeze it a little, tease you. I think there's a lot of teasing, he can be cruel sometimes.
But you teasing him? No, that's not happening, not on his watch. He's too impatient for that, too vulnerable in a way.
He likes to kiss you, a lot. Good morning kisses, goodnight kisses, you look so pretty today kisses, all of them.
"Morning" he said, his voice raspy and tired, his eyes still half closed. He hugged you from behind, his chin resting in your shoulder, his hair tickling your neck.
"Morning" you said, smiling a little, he was so cute like this. "I'm making eggs"
"Mhm" he didn't care about some eggs. He took your chin in his hand and made you look at him, he wasn't harsh or anything, his movements were slow and delicate. He placed a sweet kiss in your lips and it has you melting into his arms.
"Breakfast will be ready in a minute" you turned your head, your cheeks were slightly pink, he never failed to make you blush, not even after doing this hunderds of times. "Wash your teeth"
Carl can be rash sometimes, like when he's really excited, horny or after a fight, adrenaline buzzing in his veins, he'd pull you in for a hungry, desperate kiss, his fingers digging into your hips, his crotch pressed against yours, but he's usually delicate with you, unless you want him to be a little rough.
He's a caring lover, tending to your every need, he'd be a loving father and a great leader, but only with you by his side.
Hope you enjoyed and thank you for your kind words under my daryl headcanons.
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Congratulations!!
If you feel inspired by this combo and have time, could you write a ficlet using "I", 🍨, 🥰 or 😂, and 🔨?
Thank you!
(Apologies if you already got this ask--my device froze when I sent it the first time, so I don't know if it went through)
Thank you so much! 🥰I still remember your lovely comments on the mer-dude fic, so I hope you enjoy this little bonus! 🦕❤️🧜🏻‍♂️
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Of mates and mer-dudes
Words: 996
Rated: T
Tags: summer camp AU; mer!Steve; established relationship; flirting; sexual tension; fade to black
Notes: Set in the same universe as Just add water
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“Hammer.” 
“Hammer,” Eddie repeats dutifully. Dustin spends two or three seconds trying to drive the nail in with the object he's been handed, until he realizes it's a screwdriver. 
“Very funny. I said hammer.” 
“Apologies,” Eddie mutters, chucking the screwdriver back into the mess that is their toolbox with one hand and wiping his sunburnt forehead with the other. “I think we've been out here longer than is strictly healthy. How ‘bout we call it a day and head back to camp? It's almost dinner time.” 
Dustin scowls. The hair under his Thinking Cap is matted with sweat and he is red-faced and splotchy. An unavoidable side effect of working out on the secluded pier all afternoon. 
“We can't just stop now, it's almost done,” Dustin claims, gesturing at their rickety construction of wood and mesh - it’s supposed to be an oversized fish trap, even though Eddie thinks it’s turning out to be more of a funky modern art installation. “This'll work, I know it. This time, I'll prove that Lovie is real. All those past times, it got away too quickly, but if I could just-” 
“Jesus, kid,” Eddie groans. “You and your lake monster. You don't know when to give up, do you?” 
“Give up?” Dustin scoffs. “If Thomas Edison had given up, we'd still be lighting candles. If Homer Ahr had given up, we would've never walked on the moon. I sure as hell won't-?” 
“The fuck is Homer Ahr?” 
Dustin heaves a long-suffering sigh. 
“Only mission control's chief engineer, Eddie? Honestly, that's the kinda question I'd expect from Steve, not you. Where is he, by the way? I thought he wanted to help us.”
“No idea,” Eddie admits. “Lucky bastard.” 
Dustin draws a breath, probably to ask what he means, but Eddie is saved by the sound of the dinner bell floating over from the camp grounds. 
“Okay, you gremlin, off you go,” he says, pushing the kid towards the sound before another argument can break loose. “We can finish this tomorrow when we aren't dehydrated and grouchy.” 
Dustin grumbles. “What about you?”
Eddie waves him off. “Be there in a sec, lemme put away your shit first.” 
He starts picking up their scattered tools, throwing them back into the box. Only when he's sure that Dustin is well out of earshot does he collapse at the edge of the pier, naked feet dangling over the water's surface. 
“Man,” he says. “That kid, right?” 
There's a soft growl from behind him, and the barest of sloshing sounds, and a shadow falls over him. He only just manages to suck in a breath - knowing he'll need it - before a massive snout pushes between his shoulder blades and he goes plummeting into the lake. He’s dimly aware of the toolbox going down with him, and then the world vanishes in a whirl of bubbles.
He resurfaces to the feeling of arms wrapping around his waist and massive fins brushing his legs, and the sound of laughing voices - one human, one very much not so. He tries to glower at their owners, but actually needs a second to part the sopping curtain of his hair.  
“So fucking hilarious, you aquatic asshats. I thought I told you to quit doing that.” 
Lovie the lake creature just chirps merrily and dives back under again, splashing him with her fins as she goes. 
Steve shrugs. The motion makes tiny droplets of water run down his bare shoulders and collarbones, bringing out his freckles and moles and tiny, glittering scales. Eddie wants to lick them. He has long stopped worrying about what that says about him.
“Sorry. She just wants you in the water with us. She likes it when the flock is together.”
His smile is apologetic, but his tail curls around Eddie’s legs in the water, fins wrapping around the two of them possessively.
Because, see, here's the thing. Over the past year, Eddie has not only discovered that his infuriatingly pretty fellow camp counselor is a mermaid and the guardian of an ancient lake creature. He has also somehow managed to score said mer-dude as a boyfriend and been adopted into the lake creature's flock.  
“She never does that shit with Buckley,” he grouses, even though Steve’s words make something flutter in his chest. Steve's touch, also - hands on his hips, fins on his ankles. “She's part of the flock, too, isn't she?” 
“Yeah…” Steve blushes, a delicious pink hue on wet, sun-tanned skin. Eddie wants to lick that, too. “But Robin isn't my…” 
He trails off into an unintelligible mumble after that. Eddie wrinkles his brow. 
“Your what? Come again, fish boy, I didn’t-” 
“My mate,” Steve blurts, and the fins on his hips flutter excitedly under Eddie’s fingers. “Robin isn’t my mate.” 
Eddie feels his mouth drop open. The water is unpleasantly cold against his flushed skin. 
“Wait,” he says when he finally remembers how to form words again. “Hold on a second. When did that happen?” 
Steve’s face is still scarlet, but his lips start twitching when he meets Eddie’s eyes. “That’s just the way she sees it. You can’t expect her to think in human standards. Now c’mon, we gotta get to dinner or the kids will wonder where-” 
“Oh, no!” Eddie interrupts him, mouth tugging into a stupid, wide grin of his own. “No, no, no, sweetheart. You don’t get to tell me that we’ve been mer-mated for God knows how long and never officially consummated that sacred connection. I’m gonna get a mer-divorce if you don’t-” 
“Oh God, shut up,” Steve groans, and kisses him. 
As he gets dragged off to their favorite little shore, well out of sight from the camp grounds, Eddie bids a brief mental farewell to the toolbox lying abandoned at the ground of the lake. He’ll have to make up some story about where it went when Dustin asks him, but that's a problem for later. 
For now, he’s got other things to think about. 
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