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#i made a blue stretch one already i know at least one of them enjoys blue so i just dont know which one its going to
oflgtfol · 4 months
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bracelets as a christmas gift for michaels coworker #1
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atlabeth · 2 months
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geyser
series masterlist
pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader
summary: percy learns about the first girl luke castellan ever loved.
a/n: this is a lil sad. sorry about that. but i really like it and it came out of nowhere in like 2 days so i hope you enjoy despite the sadness. title from the mitski song
wc: 6.5k
warning(s): major character death; not shown but hangs over the whole fic. angst made angstier by fluffy flashbacks. mostly told through percy’s pov but includes luke, annabeth, and reader povs
also if you saw this before on another account DONT WORRY... that account was also me. im just doing some stuff behind the scenes right now as i figure stuff out lol i promise no plagiarism is going on
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Percy thought that his head might explode. 
He didn’t know how he was still walking, honestly. His mom died, he killed a— no, the— Minotaur, all the Greek myths were real and his dad was one of them, and now he had to deal with that freak accident with Clarisse and the toilets. 
At least he would be ready next time she tried to beat him up. Percy had been the new kid enough to know there would be a next time.
All he could do was stare at the Minotaur horn in his hands, the only sign that what happened outside the border was real. The horn in his hands and the hole in his heart. 
Percy swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d been thrown into the deep end, and the only thing on his mind was when he would start to drown. 
“Hey.” Percy looked up to see the counselor he’d met earlier with Annabeth—Luke. He tossed a ziploc bag at him and he caught it, taking a moment to look at what was in it. 
“I stole you some toiletries from the camp store,” he explained. “Thought it might make you feel more at home.” 
“…Thanks.” He didn’t know if Luke was joking, but the damage had already been done. And it was the nicest thing someone had done for him so far. He set it down next to his Minotaur shoebox. “Is this the best that it gets?” 
Luke’s lips quirked up in a slight smile. “For now. We’re a little crowded, if you couldn’t tell.” 
“Just a little bit.” Percy stood up from his sleeping bag and worked out the knot in his shoulder. “Where’s your bed? Assuming you have one.” 
“I couldn’t wrangle all these cats without some back support,” he said, and he pointed to a bed in the corner. It was the only one on its own without a bunk, and he had a fair amount of decorations. Counselor privileges, he figured. Percy walked over, Luke trailing behind him. 
“Nice place,” he said. Percy picked up the Yankee’s cap on his bedside table and nodded as he looked back at him. “Nice taste.” 
“It’s for Annabeth,” Luke said. “She wanted us to match.” 
Percy nodded again in approval. “Good taste for both of you.”
Luke had various other things around — an alarm clock knocked over next to the baseball cap, a huskie sticker on the wall half-scraped off, a poster for an album he didn’t recognize. 
But the thing that caught his eye was a polaroid hanging on the wall, surrounded by a smattering of others varying in size. 
The first one had to be an old picture—Luke didn’t have his scar, and the biggest smile stretched across his face. He had a girl close with an arm slung around her waist, and she might’ve been smiling even more than Luke. A bright energy emanated around her, something that must have transferred through the picture, because Percy found himself feeling a little better just looking at her. He wondered if she was a camper. 
His eyes flicked to the next picture, which was another one of Luke and that girl. They were both laughing as she tried to put a blue hat on Luke’s head, and he protested with a hand on her wrist. They were in the forefront of a baseball game, Percy noticed.
There were other pictures, too—Luke, a girl dressed all punk, and what looked like a young version of Annabeth, most notably—but a majority of them were either Luke and that girl, or the girl all on her own. In every single one, she beamed brighter than the sun. 
Percy pointed at the picture of Luke and the girl at the baseball game, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Who’s that?”
That seemed to catch Luke off-guard, his lips parting for a moment as if he wanted to say something. It barely took him any time to get back on track, but Percy found himself frowning. 
“That’s…” Luke cleared his throat, wet his lips, shook his head. “A friend. A very good friend.”
“Does she go here?” Percy asked. 
“She did.” 
He frowned. “Where is she, then?” 
“Percy—” Luke’s voice was strained, but he didn’t really notice as he went on. 
“I didn’t see her around,” he continued, “and you look pretty close.” 
Luke blinked a couple times, and Percy swore he could see the telltale glimmer of tears starting in his eyes. A muscle worked in his jaw, and suddenly Percy was worried that he’d said something horribly wrong. He had a talent for that, it seemed. 
Fortunately, he was saved by the bell—conch shell?—and something like relief flooded through Luke’s expression. Tension still coiled in his body. 
“Come on,” he said, that camp counselor smile coming back as he put his hand on Percy’s shoulder and guided him away from the enclave. “That means dinner’s about to start.”
Percy’s frown deepened as curiosity won out again. “Was she your—”
“You don’t wanna be late,” Luke continued, ignoring his attempt. “I assume you’re pretty hungry after two days spent out?”
Well, that only made him want to push harder. But Percy figured he wouldn’t get anything out of him—especially not now. 
“…Yeah,” Percy said. “Starving.”
An odd look flickered across his face, but again, it only lasted for a second before he was back to normal. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Eleven! Fall in!” 
Percy was at the back of the line by virtue of him being the new kid, and he found himself looking back at that picture of Luke and the girl. He didn’t know why, but something drew him to her. Before Percy could think about it more, the line was moving and his growling stomach drew his attention away. 
He would have plenty of time to ask Luke about it later. 
Or rather, ask him and piss off the only person who’d tried to be his friend so far. 
…Gods. 
Maybe he was going to drown sooner than he thought. 
-
“Luke—” 
“No!” 
“Luke, please!” 
“Annabeth will kill me if she knows—” 
“She won’t know!” 
“Alright, alright— stay still, you two!” 
Your mother laughed from behind the camera as you and Luke fought with each other, you trying your damnedest to get your Red Sox cap on his head as he tried his damnedest to stop you. The frantic laughter on both sides made it a little difficult for either of you to succeed in your quest, but eventually, you got the rock up the hill and the hat on his head. 
“Take the picture, Mom!” you exclaimed, pulling Luke even closer by his arms so he couldn’t get it off. “I need the proof!” 
“I knew this was a bad idea,” Luke groaned, staring at the camera as you wrapped your arm around his side and leaned into him. He could already imagine your victorious smile, brighter than the sun beating down on them in the stadium, and just the thought of it made one of his own flit across his lips. 
“Oh, shut up, Castellan,” you said. “You chose to come to this game. Everyone’s gonna know you’re a Red Sox fan now.”
“You said you wouldn’t tell her!” Luke defended, wrenching his arms free of your control to take the hat off his head. “I don’t even care about baseball!” 
“You care so much about it,” you said cloyingly, “and you’re ride or die for the Boston Red Sox.” 
“If you say a single word—” 
“Okay, kids!” Your mother pointed at the seats next to her. “The game’s about to start—you can keep arguing, but only if you sit down so I can see.” 
“Sorry, Mom.” You grinned at her as you pulled Luke over to your seats—they were a step up from nosebleeds, but they were the ones closest to the balcony so you could at least peer over the railing down to the diamond.
“It’s alright, sweetheart.” She glanced at Luke with a smile, and he could really see where you got it from. “We’ve gotta make him a fan somehow.” 
“I guess I can live with the brand.” Luke set the cap back on your head once you were seated, purposefully pulling the brim a little over your eyes, and he smiled at you. “Even though it looks better on you, anyways.” 
“You just don’t have what it takes to be a Red Sox fan in the heart of Yank territory,” you mused, pushing the hat back up so you could see. “It’s fine.” 
Luke rolled his eyes, but he could hardly bite back his smile. 
“I am glad you came, though,” you said, glancing back at him. “I’m glad you came with me in the first place. This is gonna be the best semester.”
“Thanks for having me,” Luke said. “It’s… it’s been a while since I’ve left camp.” 
“Fingers crossed for no monster attacks, eh?” You held up your hand. “At least, not during the game. I could live with it happening any other time.” 
“Don’t speak it into existence,” your mom said. “We’re going to have a monster-free school year.” 
To humor her, you made a claw over your heart and pushed out. She hummed in satisfaction, and you looked over at Luke. “It’s gonna be fine.” 
“Yeah,” he said. “Because two kids like us aren’t gonna draw any attention.” 
“Oh, I know we will,” you said. “But I know it’ll be fine.” 
Luke frowned. “How can you be so sure?” 
You shrugged with a smile. “I’ve got you.”
And in that moment, he was thankful for the freakish heat that honestly made no sense in the spring—at least it covered up any sign of what your words did to him. 
Luke thought you were joking when you asked him if he wanted to come back home with you for the school year. He didn’t know why you wanted to go back in the first place, being a Big Three kid that apparently had a death wish, but the thought of him leaving camp was almost inconceivable. 
Even after you assured him you weren’t joking, he still wasn’t sure. He was on the run with you for three years, then… 
Well, he couldn’t think about it for too long. But Luke had been on the outskirts of regular society for so long, doing nothing but fighting for his life, that he didn’t know if he could actually function at a normal school.
But it felt right for you two to get some normal time together after you were separated for so long. It took him a semester to decide, but one day during your usual Iris message conversations, he told you he’d love to spend the rest of the year in Boston with you. Luke still remembered the grin you wore, your disbelieving but victorious cheers, the apology you yelled back at your mother for your noise. 
Luke watched you as you talked with your mom, discussing Boston’s chances and player statistics and baseball jargon he didn’t think he’d ever understand, and he knew he would sit through a thousand Red Sox games if it meant he would get to keep seeing your smile.
You must have felt his eyes on you, because you glanced over at him. “Are you okay?” 
Luke smiled. Gods, he was so glad you were here. 
“Never better.” 
-
“That one nearly got me,” Luke said. 
Percy huffed as he picked up his sword from the ground—he was pretty sure he would officially lose his mind if Luke disarmed him with that stupid move one more time. One benefit to the Hermes cabin being too scared to associate with him after getting claimed was that he wasn’t making a fool out of himself in front of other people. 
“Maybe I can only beat you when I pour water on myself,” he said. 
Luke chuckled as he took a bottle from the cooler on the side and held it up. “Wanna try?” 
He shook his head. “I think my arms will fall off if I keep going with you.” 
He tipped his shoulder. “Fair.” 
Percy stared at the ground as Luke gathered himself, trying to put the free range thoughts roaming around his head in order. It didn’t help that he’d gained a million questions after Poseidon claimed him, and it didn’t help that there’s been a newest addition to his dream last night. 
He still felt strange asking Luke about it, but he had to know more about her. Percy didn’t know why it felt like his mission to find out who this mysterious girl was, or why he felt that strange connection to her. Maybe it was the way Luke acted whenever he brought her up, maybe it was that she’d popped up in his dream next to him at the very end, maybe it was just plain old curiosity. 
“I’m not supposed to be alive,” Percy said, breaking the silence. “I could die at any time in a bunch of different horrible ways. So will you tell me more about that girl on your wall?”  
Again, Luke seemed to be caught off guard by it. Percy heard the crunch of plastic as his hand clenched ever so slightly around the bottle, and he tried to cover it up with an arched eyebrow. “Why do you want to know so badly?” 
He shrugged. What was he supposed to say? 
“I’m curious,” he decided. 
Luke huffed a dry laugh before he took a sip of water, and he stared off into the distance for a while. He did a lot of staring whenever this girl was brought up. They looked like they were best friends in those pictures, but maybe whatever they had ended badly. And if she was a demigod too…
Well, it would make sense why he didn’t want to talk about her. 
“You know that phrase about curiosity?” Luke asked. 
“And how it killed the cat?” 
He nodded, drinking some more. “It goes double for demigods.” 
“Everything else wants to kill me,” Percy said. “So curiosity’s gonna have to get in line.” 
Luke’s laugh was a little more genuine this time, and he shook his head. “I guess I can tell you a little about her. You actually probably have a right to know.” 
“Is she a half-blood?” Percy asked immediately. 
He nodded. “Yeah.” 
“Who’s her parent?” 
Luke capped his water bottle and looked at Percy for a good, long moment. His face glowed in the warm afternoon sun, his scar cast in a softer light than usual. The scar used to unnerve him, but he’d gotten used to it after weeks staring at it during sword fighting. 
“She was a child of Poseidon, Percy,” he said. “Just like you.” 
Percy felt short of breath, like Luke had just knocked his sword out of his hand and shoved him to the ground. But he stood on his own two legs that somehow still worked, and Luke hadn’t moved. 
He had a sister? 
“I have a sister?” 
“…Had,” Luke corrected. “She… she died a few years back.” 
A vice latched onto Percy’s heart. He was still having a hard time breathing. No wonder Luke always used past tense when he was talking about her. 
He had a sister, he wasn’t alone, but he was because she was dead. And if Luke was one of her friends, that meant she died young. 
Gods. 
“What about their oath?” Percy asked, trying to ignore the aching in his chest. “I’m already on thin ice for my whole existing thing. How did Poseidon get away with two kids so close to each other?” 
Luke shrugged. “I’ve never known why gods do things. Her mother was a great woman, though—I could see what drew Poseidon to her against the oath.” 
One half of Percy wanted to ask every question that kept popping into his head. The other side of him wanted to break down and cry. 
“How did you meet her?” 
“We ran into each other when we were both young,” he said. “Both child runaways, both demigods, both New Englanders—we decided to rough it out on the road together. Couldn’t be any worse than doing it on our own.”
Percy tried to imagine it. A young Luke and a younger version of that girl—maybe Percy’s age—living together in the wilderness and fighting monsters. Surviving off of nothing but their wit and skill, facing death each day before they’d even reached middle school. 
“It… it didn’t happen then, did it?” he asked hesitantly. 
Luke shook his head. “Couple years later. All we did was watch each other’s backs out there.” 
Percy couldn’t help himself. “What happened to her?”  
“The same thing that happens to everyone,” Luke said flatly. “There’s a reason I’m the oldest one here.” 
“That doesn’t make it better,” Percy insisted. “It— it makes it worse, Luke. You see that, right?”  
Luke stared at his empty water bottle then tossed it back into the cooler. When his gaze met Percy’s, he was shocked by how… tired he looked. Beyond exhausted—bone-weary. Percy wanted to say more, but he didn’t get the chance. 
“This isn’t good conversation,” Luke said, “and it’s getting late. You should hit the showers before dinner.” 
The sun still beat down on them, bright and angry in the sky, but Percy provided no argument. He had a lot to think about. 
Before they went their separate ways, Percy stopped and looked back at him. “I’m sorry she’s gone, Luke.” 
Luke’s gaze went unfocused for a moment, his eyes growing glossy. “So am I.” 
-
Percy sat on the floor of the Hermes cabin in the corner that used to be his, staring at his meager belongings. He had to decide what to take on his quest, which was made easier by the fact that he hardly had anything to his name. Things could always be worse, though. At least he would have a change of clothes. 
He should’ve been doing this in his own cabin, but it felt too empty, too suffocating in its silence. Eleven was still more familiar. He heard the door open and saw Luke walk in, and his eyes lit up when he saw Percy. 
“Hey,” he said. “I wanted to see you before you left. How’re you feeling pre-quest?” 
“Like the world’s about to end,” he said. 
Luke’s lips twitched into a smile as he sat on the bed across from Percy. “Understandable. It kinda is.” 
“It’s just overwhelming.” Percy shoved the unfolded clothes into his backpack. “I have to clear mine and my dad’s names and get Zeus’s bolt back, or else war will start. No pressure at all.” 
“You were chosen for a reason,” Luke said. “You may not see it, Percy, but you’ve improved a lot since you got here. If anyone can do this, I think it’s you.” 
Percy looked up at him, and he was reminded of the way their last conversation went. He was asking before he could really stop himself. 
“I could die on this quest and never see you again,” Percy said. “So could you tell me more about my sister before I go?”  
Luke smiled wistfully and sighed. “You really won’t let this go, will you?” 
“It’s not really something you just let go,” he said. “Besides, I… I saw her in my dream last night.” 
Luke’s smile faded. “You did?”  
Percy nodded. “For a split second, but I know it was her. I felt the same way I did whenever I looked at her pictures. And… it’s the second time she’s shown up.” 
He let out a long sigh and shook his head, his gaze trailing off to the wall. He always looked so much older when he talked about this girl, like he was a war veteran reminiscing on his lost love. And from what he’d gathered, it might not have been too far off. 
“I told you we ran together when we were young,” he said, and Percy nodded. “We were both nine, and it should’ve been terrible, but she had a way of making everything better. Always found the bright side of things, was always able to make me laugh.” 
“She was from Massachusetts—right in the middle of Boston.” Luke chuckled as he looked at Percy. “Huge Red Sox fan.” 
Percy grimaced. “We all make mistakes.” 
Luke smiled, though it faded a bit. “We got separated for a while, but we found each other again when I got to camp. Things were more peaceful than they are now, so she’d been claimed at camp pretty quickly. I figure Poseidon wanted her to have the protection of him openly standing behind her after what happened.” 
He frowned. “What do you mean, ‘what happened’?” 
Luke shook his head. “That would be an awful story to send you off on.” 
Percy wanted to protest, but he didn’t. Luke was probably right—Percy didn’t want to make him relive it and then have to go on a death quest right after.
“A happier part, then,” he suggested.
“She ran away from home as a kid to protect her mom, but now that she had an idea of what she was doing, she started going back to school. She invited me to stay with her during the school year one year, and I accepted. That—” Luke’s throat bobbed, and the other hand clenched into a fist— “that was when she died.” 
In his stunned silence, Luke got up and went over to his alcove. He pulled the drawer open on his bedside table and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. It must’ve been folded and crumpled a million other times in messier ways by all the creases he could see, but when Luke opened it, he could see handwriting all over the front. 
A letter. 
“We Iris messaged each other constantly while she was at school,” he said, “and we wrote back and forth when we couldn’t. This was the last letter she sent me.” 
Percy’s first instinct was to say he wouldn’t be able to read it, but he realized that he didn’t really care. These were words that his sister wrote—he would sit here the rest of the day forcing sentences to make sense if that was what it took. 
So he took the letter when Luke offered it. 
To the one and only Luke Castellan, 
My mom said yes! After a very long interrogation (she now knows basically everything about you) and a million promises that you would be as careful as possible and that you were good enough at sword fighting to take down anything that could come after us, she said you can spend the year here. We spent a couple hours every day making my mom’s study into a guest room, so you have a place to stay.
I’m an idiot that didn’t bring enough drachmas so that’s why I have to send this letter—hopefully it gets to you soon enough, because we’re gonna come get you a week before my winter break is over. Mom is letting me drive down because she says I have to get my permit soon. It makes sense that my first big test is getting to you. If we don’t make it, it’s because we died in a fiery crash. 
Just kidding. I’m a great driver. But tell me some of your favorite songs when you reply and I’ll burn a CD for the ride—I figured out how to use LimeWire. Oh, and throw in a couple drachmas with the envelope so I can Iris message you next time. I miss your face and your voice, and my hand is cramping up writing all of this. 
But this is so exciting! I can’t wait to introduce you to all my friends at school, and show you my favorite places in the city, and make you into a Red Sox fan. And you can come to my soccer games— I’m the greatest forward there is. 
Jokes aside, I’m going to make sure you have the best time. We’ll spend every second together, Luke. We’re gonna make up for the time we lost. 
I can’t wait to see you again.
Your hurricane.  
It took Percy a long time to get through it with the words swimming all over, and it didn’t help that his vision had grown blurry. 
Tears, he realized as he blinked, and he did it again to make sure they wouldn’t fall. He couldn’t cry in front of Luke, not over a girl he didn’t even know—even if she was his sister. But maybe he was grieving that—the fact that he would never get to know her. 
“God, man. I— I’m sorry.” Percy couldn’t think of anything else to say. “She sounds like she was great.” 
Luke couldn’t even manage a smile this time as he stared at the wall. Percy was surprised he could even talk to him about it. 
“She was,” he murmured. “You would’ve liked her. And gods,” this time, a bit of a smile broke through despite it all, “she would have loved a little brother.” 
“I’m gonna make her proud on this quest,” Percy vowed. “I’m gonna clear our dad’s name for her.”
Something in Luke’s gaze had changed—sadness, almost regret. “You’re a good kid, Percy. I hope your quest doesn’t change that.” 
I hope I come back alive, he wanted to say. But given the topic matter, he didn’t. Percy carefully folded the letter back up and handed it to Luke. 
“Thank you for telling me about her, man,” Percy said. “I… I know it can’t be easy.”
Luke let out a shuddering breath as he stared at the closed letter—Percy wondered how many times he must have sat in this same position, reading her words. “No better way to honor her memory than helping her brother.” He glanced at Percy. “I see a lot of her in you.” 
He’d been wondering if he had anything in common with her. Percy felt a sudden flare of anger shoot through him—it wasn’t fair that she was dead. Poseidon was a god, and she was a teenager. He should have saved her. 
Percy’s mouth was drier than a desert. A part of him wanted to curl up in a ball and sob over the sister he never got the chance to know, but the other part of him knew—from what little Luke had told him about her—that she wouldn’t want him to. 
“I should get going,” Percy said, standing up from the floor. “We have to leave for the quest soon, and Annabeth and Grover are probably wondering where I am, and…” 
Percy trailed off, and Luke nodded in understanding. He turned around and took one of the photos off the wall—one of you alone in the middle of a park, wearing a bucket hat and absolutely beaming. 
“You deserve to have a part of her with you,” he said. “For good luck.” 
He felt himself choking up, and he pushed it down as he accepted the photo. “Thanks, man. It means a lot.”
“Good luck, Percy,” Luke said. “You’ve got a lot of people rooting for you.”
Percy found himself studying the picture of you once he made it outside, trying to memorize your face. With your wide, infectious smile that emanated pure sunlight, he could have mistaken you for an Apollo kid. But when he looked at you, he got that same warmth that he felt every time he imagined his father. 
“I won’t let you down,” he murmured. “I promise.” 
-
After sleeping in his train seat for half the day, Percy vowed to never complain about his bed in Cabin Three again. He was gonna be going down to the Underworld with permanent cricks in his neck. 
Grover was still sound asleep—Percy envied him for how easily it came to him in the worst conditions—but thankfully, Annabeth wasn’t. Her gaze was focused on the view as their train chugged along. 
Percy cleared his throat in a flawless attempt at getting her attention, and it worked. 
“You’re awake,” she said. 
“Unfortunately.” Percy sighed. “How much longer do you think it’ll be?” 
“Another day, at least,” she said. “And we’ve got a layover in St. Louis.” 
“St. Louis,” he hummed. “Nice.” 
They sat in silence for a while—there wasn’t much to talk about when they were coming off of two— or was it three, now?—near-death experiences. But eventually, Annabeth cleared her throat, taking a page from his book, and it worked again. 
“There— there’s probably something you should know,” Annabeth said, and that worked even better than clearing her throat. “You’re not the only Big Three kid to come through Camp Half-blood lately.” 
“I know,” he said. “Grover and Luke explained it.” 
Her eyes widened slightly and she leaned forward in her seat. “Luke did?” 
“…Yeah. You all already told me about Thalia.” Percy glanced away, suddenly feeling a chill in the train car. “Luke told me about my sister.” 
Annabeth went silent. 
“It’s okay,” he said. “I kind of annoyed Luke until he told me. Doesn’t really seem like a subject people at camp like to talk about.” 
“I’m just surprised he did,” she murmured. “They were… they were close, Percy. Her death destroyed him—Thalia and your sister. All of it’s complicated.”  
“Yeah,” he sighed, “I got some of that.” 
“I only knew her for a year at camp, but everyone loved her,” she said. “She was nice. Popular. Always helped when she could, always had the biggest, most infectious smile on her face.” Annabeth looked down at her hands. “She didn’t deserve the fate she got.” 
Percy didn’t think he’d ever grieved so much for someone he never knew. “But her and Luke—were they…?” 
“Yeah,” Annabeth said, “they were a thing, later on.” 
That seemed to be all she wanted to say on the matter. Percy decided not to push. 
“How did you meet her?” he asked. 
Annabeth’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I met her on the day I thought I would die.”
-
For the first time in her life, Annabeth Chase couldn’t think. 
It had all happened so fast. One second she was running with Luke and Thalia and Grover, praying to her mother and any other gods that would listen to make the horde of monsters let up even a centimeter.
The next, she’d collapsed on the ground, never so grateful to have grass and dirt and dust in her face. But she could hear Luke yelling, barely able to make it out in her delirious state—she didn’t know when she’d last had a sip of water, and they’d been running for at least three miles—but he sounded hysterical. 
She remembered her last clear thought: they weren’t going to make it. 
But they had. They had, so why was Luke losing his mind? 
Annabeth pulled herself up from the ground—how long had she been bleeding out of those slashes on her arm?—and looked for the rest of her friends. Luke wasn’t yelling anymore, instead arguing with someone she didn’t recognize in a bright orange shirt. Grover’s furry legs trembled as he stared down the hill they’d just gotten up, completely silent, and Thalia— 
Where was Thalia? 
Annabeth tried to get up but her legs gave out almost immediately, and steady arms caught her before she could fall to the ground again. Kind eyes served to ease some of her panic—she was older than Annabeth, maybe around Luke or Thalia’s age. 
Thalia— 
“Hey, you’re okay,” the voice said, and Annabeth’s attention was drawn back to you. “I’ve got you.” 
“Where’s Thalia?” she blurted out, because now she couldn’t think of anything else. 
Your brows creased and you glanced back down the hill—Annabeth did too, and she saw Grover and Luke arguing with each other. Or rather, Luke was yelling at him as Grover anxiously hooked his hands through his hair. 
“I don’t know,” you said, “but right now, I need to make sure you’re okay. Are you hurt?” 
Annabeth absentmindedly held up her arm, but she was only focused on her friends. Why wasn’t Thalia with them? Why was Luke so upset?
You cursed under your breath in Ancient Greek as you cradled her arm, and you looked back down the hill. Annabeth could see at least half a dozen other kids. 
“We’ve got two half-bloods and a satyr, one injured!” you yelled back. “Get Molly and Brayden!” 
“Three,” Annabeth found herself saying. “There’s three half-bloods—” 
“Annabeth!” 
Her head shot up at the sound of Luke calling her name as he bounded over, and her eyes widened at the blood steadily spidering across the fabric of his shirt. 
“Luke, you’re hurt—” 
“I’m fine,” he insisted. “It’s fine.” 
“We have Apollo kids coming,” you said, looking up at him, still cradling Annabeth’s arm. “We’ll get y—” 
Your sentence stuck in your throat, and Annabeth could see tears welling in your eyes as your brows furrowed. She thought Luke’s eyes might burst out of his skull as he stared at you, his lips parted but nothing coming out. Neither of you were able to form words. 
When he finally did get something out, it was a single name. One Annabeth knew by heart, one that he’d mourned for years. 
“Luke?” you whispered. 
Before he had the chance to do anything, two teenagers got over the hill and called out your name, the same one Luke used. He always said you were dead, but you clearly weren’t dead, because you were here and you had her arm in your grasp and while your hands were cold, they weren’t cold enough to be dead— 
“Molly’s gonna take care of you,” you said, looking back at Annabeth and cutting off her inner dialogue. “She’ll get you to the infirmary and heal you up, okay?” 
“My friends—” 
“They’re gonna be okay too,” you said. “I promise.” 
Annabeth looked up at Luke, and he nodded. “We’ll be with you soon, Annabeth. We— we have to talk about some things.” 
So she went with Molly down the hill, and Annabeth put pressure on her bleeding wound when she told her to—it had started to sting like hell now that her adrenaline was fading. 
She looked back just in time to see you and Luke share the tightest hug ever. 
The hug of two people who realized they weren’t seeing ghosts, Annabeth thought. 
-
You bolted up in bed, eyes wide and your chest heaving as you rapidly sucked in air. Your fingers found purchase in your bedsheets, desperate for something familiar—it took a second for you to recognize your surroundings, that you weren’t in an endless void, but your childhood bedroom offered little comfort.  
You ran a hand over your forehead, damp with sweat, as you tried to calm down. Your breathing slowed, but you couldn’t shake that awful feeling that hung over you in your sleep. 
Your nightmares were getting worse, you knew that much. That raspy, demented voice used to be a rarity, and now it appeared every night. You could usually deal with your nightmares, but the sense of absolute dread that voice and the pit fostered in you was too much. You hadn’t managed to sleep through the night once since you came home for the school year.
You could deal with the monsters—to you, this was the worst part of your godly blood.
A knock rattled on the door out of nowhere, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. The only thing that calmed you down was the thought that monsters didn’t knock. 
“Come in,” you croaked, your throat drier than a desert. 
Thankfully, a monster hadn’t come to make your night even more miserable. Luke stood in the doorway, his eyebrows creased in concern, messy curls hanging just above his eyes. He wore the Red Sox t-shirt you’d bought for him at the game you dragged him to, and in your addled state, you didn’t even think to tease him about it. 
“Are you okay?” He should’ve been as disoriented as you, but his alerted eyes told a different story. 
You could only think of one thing. “How did you know?” 
Luke’s lips parted for a moment, as if he hadn’t even considered it. “I could just feel it.”
You managed a smile despite every atom in your body screaming at you. “I think that means you can come in.” 
He closed the door behind him, and you shifted over in your bed to make room for him. There wasn’t much in a twin, but you made it work. Luke’s weight pressed into the mattress, making you adjust your position, and it was more comforting than any amount of blankets. 
“You’re so cold,” he murmured, laying the back of his hand against your arm. “How do you live like that?” 
“Blame my dad,” you said. “I’ve got water in my blood.” 
“I think that’s probably a bad thing,” Luke said, and you knocked your shoulder into his with a huff. 
“You know what I mean.” 
Luke let his hand fall back in his lap, and as you brought your knees up to your chest, you pulled the covers with them. 
“So,” Luke said, glancing at you, “what’s got you awake at the witching hour?” 
“The usual,” you mumbled. 
“Nightmares that might be prophetic?” he asked. 
You made a lazy gesture with your hand. “Bingo.” 
“The worst sense of dread imaginable?” 
“Bullseye.” 
“I’m sorry,” he said. 
You shrugged. “It’s nothing I can’t deal with.” 
“You don’t always have to put on a front, y’know,” Luke said. You felt his eyes on you. “You don’t always have to be strong.” 
“I’m naturally strong,” you said with mock austerity. “Comes with the god for a dad.” 
Luke chuckled and shook his head. “You know what I mean.” 
“Yeah,” you murmured. 
You leaned into his side, fitting your head into the crook of his neck. Luke wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, and you let out a contented sigh. 
That voice in your nightmares seemed so small when you had Luke. 
“Can you stay?” you asked softly. 
He didn’t hesitate. “Of course.” 
“Just like old times,” you whispered. 
“Just like old times,” he agreed. 
Luke ran hot, and you’d never been more thankful for it as you fully settled into his side. Icy blood ran through your veins, and you let out a shaky sigh. You could hear his steady breathing, feel his heartbeat through his chest, and the anxiety from earlier began to steadily fade. You never felt safer than when you were with Luke. 
There was something between you—you weren’t that stupid—but you hadn’t talked about it. With you and Luke, it was just… you and Luke. You didn’t have to put a label to it. 
How could you put a label to your relationship, when you’d spent your first few years together fighting for each day, and then the next few thinking the other was dead? 
Maybe someday, you would talk about it. But for now, this was more than enough. 
“Don’t worry,” Luke murmured in your ear as your eyes began to droop. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” 
And by the gods, you believed him. 
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luvv4j4ybe11 · 22 days
Note
could you maybe write something where reader was previously human but now is an avatar but she doesn’t know about heat, kind of like what Blue-Slxt wrote with Neteyam but with Lo’ak:3 (sorry if you don’t understand this is my first time requesting anything and i’m still practicing english)
PHEW OK!!, I’ll try my best, baby.
Warnings: p n v, a/b/o elements, dom!loak, sub!reader, heat and rut cycle, breeding kink, Dacryphilla, lo’ak marks reader ALOT, scent kink, swearing, fingering, oral (f receiving), daddy kink (if you squint), praise, slight degradation, choking (again, if you squint), squirting, rough sex, aged up!lo’ak, and I think that’s it. Lmk if I missed anything, and enjoy, my love<3
Translation: “Mawey, ma’muntxate”- “be calm, my mate.”, “Oe omum, sevin ‘evenge,Oe omum” - “I know, pretty girl, I know.”
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When you first got your avatar, excited doesn’t even begin to describe how you were feeling. You were finally able to be with your mate, without wearing that annoying mask or always trailing behind him because of his long, confident strides.
You could run faster, climb faster, react faster. You were finally one of the people.
You just wished they had told you about this, though.
The excruciating pain you felt deep in your core, the hot, itchy feeling of needing to be filled to the brim becoming more and more difficult to handle.
You don’t even remember how you ended up on the floor of your hut, or how why the basket of fruits was spilled on the floor, but that didn’t matter. You needed lo’ak.
You crawl over to you and lo’aks bed before climbing on, flopping onto your pillows weakly and tearing your loincloth off, shoving two fingers inside of you with ease.
It’s not enough.
The stretch is nice, but it’s not lo’aks cock stretching you out. You frustratedly pound and curl your fingers into your leaking cunt, searching for a pace that helps you the most.
You huff and whine as you pound at your pussy relentlessly, not satisfied with any pace you experiment with.
Frantically you reach up to your neck, pressing the button on the throat com that was only for you and lo’ak.
“Lo’ak..” you sound weak, as if words are heavy on your tounge.
there’s silence at first, so you go to speak again, but then you hear, “yeah, mama? Are you ok?” He asks, slight panic rushing through him when he hears silence on the other side.
“I need you to..” you take a short breath to hold back the guttural scream you wanted to let out because of the pain. “I need you to come home.” You ask breathlessly, the request makes him already say his goodbyes to his family and damn near sprint towards your hut.
“I’m coming, mama, ok? Just breathe. It’s gonna be alright.” He says softly, a feeling of sadness swirling through his chest at the idea of what you could be going through. And he wasn’t with you.
His voice makes your pace turn more frantic and desperate, soft moans leaving your plush lips, but the second the line goes dead, you groan frustratedly. Pace turning back to what it was before.
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The overpowering yet addicting smell loak is hit with when he opens the makeshift door to your hut tells him all that he needed to know, the sight in front of him just proving as more evidence that you were going through your first heat.
The pathetic display in front of him makes a perverted smirk adorn his features, he knew how much pain you were in, and yes he felt fucking horrible because of it, but it was just adorable to watch you shove three fingers into your desperate cunt. All your little frustrated moans, whines, and whimpers made him almost wanna sit in front of you and just watch you, until you were begging for him to do something, anything.
But he wasn’t going to do that. Not today, at least.
He walks over to the bed and sits next to you, gently taking your fingers out of your soaked hole and replacing them with his own, erupting a loud moan from you. “Shsh, babygirl. It’s ok, lemme take care of you, yeah?” He says with a small smile of his face, but his tone was husky and lust filled, just the sound of it had you whimpering pathetically.
You chose to respond with a lazy nod to his words as you tug at his cumberbund, urging him to get closer to you. A little giggle can be heard from lo’ak before he obliges to your request, getting on top of you slowly; peppering all kinds of kisses and bruises in his wake before kissing you passionately.
His lips slide between yours in a perfect harmony, one that makes the burning in your core more unbearable.
Soft moans can be heard from you, and even softer ones from your mate, but you easily picked up on them with the help of your heat. The sound of his noises was enough for you to already feel the knot in your stomach get tighter, instinctively making you wrap your legs around his hips, pressing his body into you more and pressing his fingers even deeper into you.
You nip at his lip roughly, pulling a loud growl from him before he pulls away from you. The sight below him is one he wants to paint in his mind for eternity; your lips were all puffy and raw, face covered in a light purple blush, skin glistening with a layer of sweat, and, fuck..your eyes..they were a completely different shade than their natural color, instead now a dark orange rather than their usual lively green. You looked utterly breathtaking to him.
He leans down to press a quick, loving kiss to your lips before he journeys down the valley of your body; going from your neck, to your chest,making sure to pinch and nip at the hardened buds till he feels his work is done, and when he decides that it is he continues his adventure down until he’s face to face with your glistening cunt.
Just the sight of your pussy splayed out for him like this has his body hot with desire and arousal. A damn near animalistic growl leaving him as he uses his pointer and middle fingers to part your folds, an effortless trail of slick dripping onto his fingers.
You squirm slightly when you feel him part your folds, shallow breaths being blown onto the sensitive flesh, emitting a blissful whimper from you as you reach down to squeeze his free hand for some type of relief. “Fuck, mama…you’re soaked,” his baritone and his remark pulled you out of your haze momentarily, looking down to be met with the huge puddle of your arousal on the bed below you. Shit. You really were soaked.
You only had the chance to feel slightly embarrassed before another wave of pain punched through your core, making you whimper loudly before turning your attention to your mate. “Lo’ak, please! Need you s’bad..” you cried, wrapping a dainty hand around his wrist before grinding into his hand shamelessly.
Lo’ak briefly lets himself be hypnotized by your incoherent stare before snapping out of it, pinning both of your wrists with his hand and wrapping his other around your hip.
“Enough. Lemme help you, yeah? Can you be good for me and let me play with you?” He asked through a thick tone of lust, but It came out as more of a demand than a question. Nevertheless, you obeyed to his request because you wanted to be good for him.
A soft hum of approval came from him before he finally wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking and licking at the sensitive bundle of nerves before licking a bold stripe up your pussy. The sensation has you on cloud nine, already hurdling towards the edge once you feel him slide his skilled tongue into your greedy hole, curling it upwards to press against your sweet spot. Making you see stars instantly as loud streams of moans and whimpers left your plush lips.
“Don’t cum, mama. Not yet.” He insisted, now letting your wrist go to lay his hand flat on your stomach. If you could furrow your brows at him, you would. There’s no way you could hold it, not with how over sensitive your heat was making you.
Before you could open your mouth to protest, you’re interrupted by his finger nudging itself inside of you, the length of it now pressing directly against your sweet spot. You knew the coil in your stomach was seconds away from snapping, and so did he. “Lo’ak! Please, I can’t hold it..needa cum s’bad..please!,” you beg, a soft pout on your face when you feel him pull his finger out of you.
Lo’ak smirks at your bratty expression before leaving a sweet kiss to your clit, “Nope. Not yet, mama.” He coos, kissing your clit a few more times before wrapping his lips around the bud and sucking softly, making a loud moan leave your lips and a broken plea for him to speed up, to which he denies. He knew that if he were to make you cum now, you’d be ready to go in a matter of seconds. So he wanted to drag it out longer, instead turning those seconds into minutes.
With his hands all over you, combined with his addictingly earthy scent, you knew it wouldn’t take much to get you close again. And sure enough, with just a little more flicks and sucks of your clit, you felt yourself getting closer to letting go.
Lo’ak didn’t even have to ask if you were close, he read you like a book. Which is why he didn’t stop his movements, if anything he increased them.
The sensation was enough to have you shaking, already a mess for him just from some little licks. “Fuck!~ please, lolo! Can I cum? I~ah~I wanna..please..” you babble, brain turning into goo once his tounge slides inside of you, emitting an almost pornographic moan from you. You’re thanking your lucky stars now that your hut is the furthest away from the village.
He taps your thigh lightly, signaling that you can let go as he whispers a sweet “you can cum now, ok mama? Need you to be a good girl for daddy and cum all over my face,” The huskiness in his voice combined with the possessiveness that radiated off of him had you coming undone in a matter of seconds, painting his face with your arousal shamelessly.
He doesn’t let up though, still eagerly sucking and lapping up your juices until you’re begging him to let up. And he does of course, because how could he ever deny you.
You wrap your hands around the sides of his face to pull him into a sloppy yet passionate kiss, moaning lewdly in his mouth when you taste yourself on his tongue.
Wrapping your legs around him, you press his clothed bulge into your cunt, silently urging for him to slide inside of you. He groans into the kiss when he feels your puffy folds rub against his clothed cock, instinctively bucking his hips into you as he pulls away from the kiss so he can look at your eyes. “You sure you’re ready for me, mama?” He asks calmly, but his body said everything he wasn’t.
You nod your head feverishly, responding with a breathless, “fuck, yes lolo, I need it. I need you inside of me, now.” The way those words fell off of your tongue so effortlessly had his cock twitching rapidly, instinctively making you grind into him.
With one last glance of confirmation, he leans in to give you a tender kiss as he hurriedly unties his loincloth. The burning in your core has tears prickling in the corners of your eyes, making you claw at lo’aks broad shoulders and let out a plea of, “Babyboy, please..it hurts so bad.” To which lo’ak responds by cupping your face gently, letting out a soft coo of, “Oe omum, sevin ‘evenge,Oe omum…gonna~mhm, fuck..~make it better, ok?,” as he slides his bulbous tip into your leaking hole.
A small shriek comes from you when he presses his tip inside of you, you’ve had sex before, yes, but the stretch is something you’ll never get used to. By the time he’s halfway in you swear you can feel him in your stomach, making you cry out as he twitches inside of you. “Mawey, ma’muntxate..you’re doing so well for me. Just need you to relax and breathe for me ok?” He consoles, trying his best to focus on his own breathing the more you clench around him.
His words soothe you slightly, letting him slide the rest of himself inside of you with ease. You’ve never felt so full in your life, and he was only halfway in. He was so close to being buried so deeply inside of you, you swear you were spraining from it. The burning sensation in your core was bubbling up the more he eased inside of you, and now that he was finally pressed against your gummy walls you felt like fresh water was thrown onto you.
But it still wasn’t enough, you needed to feel fuller, needed him to spill his hot, sticky cum inside of you until you tasted it on your tongue.
“Mama, You alri-“
“Move.” Is all you mutter to him before you wrap your tail around his waist, urging him to set a relentless pace. And he gets the memo quickly, pounding at your over sensitive cunt relentlessly as he wraps his free hand around your throat gently, the other wrapped around your hip so tight you knew there was going to be a bruise on it.
The pace has you seeing stars, wrapping your legs around him firmly to get him closer inside of you, but that was stopped by him throwing your legs over his shoulders effortlessly. Folding you in half under his hulking frame as if you weigh nothing.
“Stay still. Don’t make you tell you again.” He demanded through a thick growl, and you swear you saw his eyes change color; going from green to a deep shade of red before going back to normal. It made you shudder, he was practically dripping in dominance and you were craving more of it. Especially with the way he’s slamming into that sensitive spongy heat relentlessly, making all kinds of moans and whimpers spill from your lips.
The unraveling of coil in your stomach gets more and more unbearable with each one of his brutal, yet particular, thrust. Causing all kinds of pleas and yelps to slip from your mouth, hoping your mate would understand your babbling. “Wanna cum, mama? Shit..can’t tell by the way this cute little pussy is squeezing me. Almost like she doesn’t want me to pull out…is that right, baby? You want me to fill this greedy pussy up till it takes?” You nod incoherently, body shuddering from the idea of lo’ak stuffing you full with his cum.
He knew his words were only gonna make your orgasm even more intense, and make the next one subside slowly, but he couldn’t help it. You just look so adorable all drunk and needy on his cock. How could he not spur you (and honestly himself) on more by promising to breed you?
You grip onto his biceps hard enough to leave bruises, using your hold on him as an anchor as you come undone with a long moan, tears spilling down your face from the intensity of it. “Awhh, already crying, mama?- ah fuck-Such a sensitive girl, i make you cum once and you’re already a mess. My poor girl..” He teases with a fake sympathy in his tone. His words make you whimper pathetically, more tears spilling over your eyes when he doesn’t stop pounding at your raw pussy.
“Lo’ak..i-i-mhm!~..ca-n’t..wanna…” you didn’t even know if he understood what you were saying, hell, you didn’t even understand it. But the soft chuckle that came from him told you everything you needed to know. “I know,princess. You’re being such a good girl for me, you know that? So fucking-mhm~ tight and warm for me. So perfect,” he grunted, the grip on your waist tightening the sloppier his thrust got. You whine in response to his soft praises, tugging him in by his biceps so he can get somehow closer to you.
He swear he could feel his heart ache at the sight of your needy, fucked out expression and the sensation of your soft, warm walls clamping down onto him makes him groan lowly, cock twitching inside of you the closer he gets. “Gonna..gonna put a baby in you, ok mama? Gonna look so..fuck-..so pretty all swollen with my baby in you.” He mumbles before cumming inside of you with a guttural growl, triggering you to soak his cock and lower abdomen as you come undone once again.
The thick ropes of his warm cum painting your gummy walls has the pain of your heat fading away, untill it eventually turns into nothing. For now.
Quiet whimpers and moans turn into heavy breaths once you come down from your high, but lo’ak was still rutting into your slick walls. Instinctively, you try to push away from the overstimulation, but that was stopped by the iron grip on your hip and the aggressive hiss that came from your mate.
His eyes were now a deep shade of red, and his body was on fire. The heat combined with his addicting pheromones triggered the second wave of your heat.
“Lo- wa-ah!-wait! Slow down please, babyb-“
“Hush. Let me use your precious little cunt. And If you’re good for me, I’ll knot you. Sound good?” He told you as he flipped you over so you were now on your hands and knees, wasting no time to situate himself back inside of you so he can continue ramming into your silky pussy. Your body submitting to him effortlessly as he angels your hips so he can ram into your sweet spot deeper.
Even though the haze of your heat, you knew this was going to be a long night.
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A/N~ this ask has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHSSSS so I’m so sorry to the nonnie who sent this in, I promise I wasn’t ignoring you, boo. Also this turned out way longer than I expected, at least it’s smth😚 I hope you enjoyed this, nonnie!. Stay safe and stay hydrated, babies. I love you all endlessly.
Duces🫶🏽,
Luvv4j4ybe11
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Taglist~ @tallulah477 , @hotdsworld , @plooto , @blue-slxt , @itchaboi-itchyboy , @xylianasblog , @etherial-moon-blog , @criticallybella, @professional-yapper, @rivatar, @aperiraa
(If you’d like to be added to or removed from my general taglist, please lmk! And if your tag isn’t working check your settings💕)
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268 notes · View notes
alicerosejensen · 6 months
Text
Find me
Warning: mention of blood, violence (physical and psychological), mention of viruses, parasites, zombies; kidnapping; the reader has a slight anemia; Fem/reader; established relationship with Leon.
Synopsis: You could have a quiet wedding and a good life with the person you love most in the world. Leon was ready to protect you to the death from his enemies and viruses but… it seems that someone is also interested in you. And the price for life will be very high.
A/N: The idea from this post that I wrote about quite a long time ago. "Together forever" I'm not very good at writing (apparently the Yandere theme is not mine, no matter how much I like it). So I'm going to try this plot. I don't know how many parts there will be, but if everything goes well, then probably a lot (maybe 10-12 or so). I hope someone likes it because I have serious notes on this work in my notebook, as if these are sketches for the 9th part of the resident).
Tags will be added to the following parts. I was very much inspired by the remaster and Haunting ground when I was taking notes. After all, both games were made by Capcom.
Feedback is welcome (but no insults!)
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Sometimes the worst horror happens in the name of love. It's not the worst plot for books, films or paintings that are more than a hundred years old and it's impossible not to admit that sometimes we want to be loved until our death.
And maybe after it.
The words sound soft, with a slight taste of regret, as if somewhere between the letters there is a treacherous "I'm sorry". But in fact it was so predictable. Leon hugs you too tightly, experiencing an inexhaustible sense of guilt, because he promised to decide together where you will spend your honeymoon, which is unlikely to last exactly a month, he promised to watch a movie with you that you have been planning for a long time and… and everything went to hell.
Leon nuzzles your cheek and devoutly kisses you gently, leaving a wet trail with his eyes closed. Another sign of his eternal love, his lips are imprinted on the bridge of your nose, making you smile from the slight tickle caused by his stubble. He had no power over not being called to work for at least another week, but the government is not interested in the personal life of his best agent. And yet you enjoy the way he puts his arm around your waist, holding you as tightly as he can.
"Okay, Mr. Kennedy," you joke kindly, inhaling the almost faded scent of his cologne. "I forgive you, once again. Run to save the world" You smile looking into his crystal blue eyes filled with sadness and longing.
"I promise that I will ask the authorities for a good vacation," Leon swears very sensually, continuing to hold you tightly in his hands and look with those puppy eyes from which the soul is torn apart and kisses again this time on the forehead, "If necessary, I will harness Ingrit and no one will bother us. We'll plan everything the way you want, even if it's a tour of all the castles in Europe"
You laugh sincerely, removing the bangs from his face, hoping to stretch the moment of intimacy with him longer. It was so warm and safe next to him that you snuggled up to his chest and he gently cradled you in his arms like a child.
"Don't do anything stupid in my absence"
"I still need to do an exhibition and maybe I'll finally clean up the bookcase," you lie knowing full well that the books will still lie randomly on the shelves and you won't even touch them. Actually, your work was the only thing that could save you from the all-consuming longing for Leon.
"Be careful, okay?" with some hidden fear, he asks, reluctantly releasing you from the ring of embraces. "I'll call as soon as I get a free minute and I'll really be back soon"
Leon is already out on the street and you follow him with a sad look, noticing some dark car to the side. Rightly deciding that they came for him, you lower your head, sighing heavily and literally taken aback when Leon's lips abruptly cover yours with a demanding and somewhat rude kiss that you forget how to breathe. At some point you try to seize the initiative, but strong hands push you against the wall and you hit the back of your head a little painfully, allowing him to dominate. As always.
"I would eat you right here," Leon said sarcastically and quietly stroking your hips, "But I really have to go."
And you silently bite your lower lip while watching him move away from you and get on his bike.
Well, that cool car wasn't for him, but this thought quickly leaves your head and in the end, tired of standing on the street, you just go back into the house, closing the door, grabbing the phone and immediately sending him an impatient "I miss you already." However, this does not prevent you from also ordering food with home delivery and watching some movie to pass the evening that was hopelessly spoiled.
The evening really became disgusting, neither delicious food saved him, nor a good movie will save him.
"Complete shit" a quiet curse came off your lips when you looked at the phone screen for the hundredth time in the evening and endlessly reread Leon's last message "My love…" which seems to have been imbued with such despair that tears came to your eyes. He was like a big kid who couldn't live a day without you and besides, only with you his sleep was like a more or less healthy one. You were his only light and he wanted that light to stay with him forever. Well, you could send him a hundred more messages, but it's unlikely that he will have the opportunity to read them in the next few hours or even days. So with bitterness, you just turned off the TV and went to the bathroom to get ready for an earlier than usual sleep.
Hot water pleasantly calmed and warmed the skin flowing down the body. You spent 15 minutes in the shower, brushing your teeth and doing all the usual and favorite cosmetic procedures, smeared your body with a lotion with a pleasant floral scent, waiting for it to soak into pale skin. The mood even improved a little when you changed into pajamas and straightened the bed once more before putting your head on the pillow and looking at the phone.
Nothing.
There's no point blaming Leon or doubting his love. It wasn't up to him. Sometimes he was dragged out of bed late at night and you could not see him for weeks without even being able to talk on the phone for one minute. But when he returned, he turned into a puppy clinging to his beloved owner and covered your body with a lot of kisses, not letting you get out of bed. Not that you mind… You always miss him and worry about him.
Sighing, you turn over on your side, putting the phone on the bedside table and not seeing the desired message from your fiance. Therefore, grabbing Leon's pillow, the lungs are filled with his smell and instead of feeling his presence, you experience only a deep feeling tearing apart that makes your heart beat a little faster.
And closing your eyes, you reach for the switch, when suddenly for a second the phone quickly notifies you of a new message from the addressee next to whose name the heart turns red.
"Don't forget to take the pills that the doctor prescribed for you. I want this sickly pallor to disappear. Love you"
Well, smiling, you took a screenshot of the message for some reason, saving it in your gallery on your phone. After sending Leon the answer, you still remembered that you really forgot about those pills once again, but you didn't want to get up anymore, so you left this matter for the morning. Sighing once again, trying his luck in the hope that Leon would write something else, your mobile was treacherously silent while you were just flipping through the social media feed.networks thinking only about how dependent you are on this man. However, the same can be said about him. The phone went out, as did the light in the bedroom, and sleep slowly overtook your mind when you hugged else's pillow without hearing quiet footsteps in the next room. The uninvited guest, thanks to Leon, had to tinker a lot with the lock of the front door before he unlocked it, quietly closing it behind him so as not to attract your attention while you were in the shower. Merging with the surrounding darkness, it was necessary to wait for the right time and prepare the syringe so that everything went as it should and the target was quietly neutralized without attracting the attention of neighbors.
The order was well paid and the fact that Leon left the house on that day was only to his advantage. After all, a government agent can ruin everything and getting rid of him threatened big problems that were not needed by anyone, but who will remember about his pretty bride, about whom he will probably quickly forget everything himself? The unknown person only needed to stick a pomeranian, inject the substance and quietly take the target out of the house by throwing a fake note with a handwriting similar to yours that you and Leon do not see the future for yourself. Pick up a few personal items and throw them in the nearest trash as proof of the truthful departure of the unfaithful bride.
Not the worst plan, especially since Leon Kennedy will think about your disappearance and how natural it is, no one really cares. Even if he suspects this ill-conceived plan, by that time you will be too far away from here anyway.
The problem was solved by itself because you are a simple art worker did not pose any threat even if you tried to resist. One step, two… the blessed victim will not suspect anything until the very moment when someone else's hand in a black glove closes her mouth and sticks a needle into her body. You fall asleep without suspecting anything, somehow reflexively reaching to the left side where Leon usually sleeps with his back to the bedroom door.
You are separated by literally a few meters from each other before one inept movement spoils everything.
The sound of falling books that Leon has been asking you to arrange exactly for so long makes you open your eyes by squeezing the pillowcase of the pillow and the "guest" freeze without touching the door handle. However, you felt a gaze on you that did not let you be deceived that someone had entered the house.
In Leon's bedside table there is a 9mm pistol fully loaded. It's not that you were very accurate, but Leon took you to a place as entertainment, where you trained shooting at targets under the watchful eye.
"not the worst result for a beginner," he said condescendingly so as not to upset you, but it was fun even if the gun was real.
Except now there are no jokes! You heard another step towards your side and held your breath, gathering strength for a jerk to pull out the gun and remove it from the safety. From fear, the heart beat faster, causing the blood to roar in your ears and before the intruder's hand landed on your face, you abruptly rolled to the left side of the bed, throwing a pillow at the person standing over you, winning for yourself a couple of seconds from his confusion.
Jumping to your feet, you quickly grabbed the gun pointing it at the man with trembling hands, removing it from the safety.
"Your own life is more expensive," you thought when a man of impressive size in a mask stood a meter away from you without a weapon, because his goal is to deliver you alive because you will not be of any use dead.
You held his floor at gunpoint, but your hands were shaking from the unusual weight and you really wanted to lower them down, but you held on trying not to panic. A step towards you and you pulled the trigger without aiming so stupidly hitting the closet, startled by the loud noise of the shot, immediately shrinking and from unaccustomed frightened by the strong recoil of the weapon.
"Fuck," he swore loudly, immediately rushing to you, forcing you to scream at the top of your voice while miraculously dodging. Rushing to the door, the first thought was to run outside and ask for help from neighbors, especially since the sound of a gunshot and a woman's scream certainly did not go unnoticed and someone probably should have already called the police. We just need to hold out. However, you only managed to jump out into the corridor when suddenly a strong man's hand roughly grabbed you by the hand in which you were holding a gun and your finger pressed the hook again making a shot.
Again a loud noise, your screams and a small hole in the ceiling.
Again the bullet flew by.
"Get off me, you bastard!"
A ringing slap in the face and you abruptly fell to the floor dropping the gun somewhere to the side. He immediately hung over you, but grabbing the first book that came to hand, you threw it in her man's face and taking advantage of another hitch jumped to her feet, running on without thinking about how much lip hurts.
And yet, the chances of escape were initially small, especially when shortness of breath began due to anemia and the chest began to ache sharply. A deep breath did not help even if your body was filled with adrenaline, he still knocked you to the floor, pressing your whole body to the floor, taking that ill-fated syringe out of your pocket and sticking it into you by quickly pressing the plunger . It only takes a few minutes, but because of your screams and shots, even they could put the entire mission under the "failed" icon, so without wasting even these precious minutes, the kidnapper grabs you by the hair and just hits your head on the floor suppressing resistance at the root. The world before your eyes becomes hazy and barely audible when a strange and unusual feeling of lightness covers you despite the pain in your head.
"Bitch ruined everything"
This bastard threw you over his shoulder and quickly ran out of the house, leaving the syringe lying there on the floor because there was no more time. Throwing you carelessly like a sack into the backseat, he slammed the door and gave gas to get away from the crime scene as soon as possible and dump the tail by moving to another car. They'll pay him well anyway.
You only blurred vision being on the verge of consciousness silently watched your loss until a long sleep covered you.
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amidstthemists · 5 months
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You, a troublemaker, have a chance encounter with Buggy when he and his crew raid the ship you’re on.
You were always the jokester on your ship. The rest of the crew tolerated it, but jokes were your bread and butter. As a pirate, the days were long and the work was hard and you’d be damned if you didn’t keep yourself amused with silly rhymes, one liners, snarky comebacks, absurdisms, whatever you could come up with, really. Usually you were responded to with a roll of the eyes, a suffering sort of smile, even silence, but sometimes you said a real zinger and got the crew to come together in laughter. Those were the best times. But you enjoyed some of the less tolerant reactions too. You found a particular enjoyment in being a menace.
When your ship was taken over by a group of theatrically inclined circus pirates, everyone in your crew was certain they would all be dying in strange, unusual, and possibly theatrical ways. That was what you were prepared for, too. And, sure, it was unfortunate, but at least the lighting was sure to be great and your inevitable demise was sure to be creative. Being a pirate, believe it or not, was often very tedious business unless you were actively in the middle of some mischief. Dying sucked, but at least it would be interesting and keep you occupied.
And your good humor, much to your captured crew’s chagrin, was there to keep you company until the theatrically inclined circus pirates figured out what to do with the lot of you.
When a certain clownish pirate captain made an appearance, sauntering around the deck of your ship as if he owned the place, a member from your crew elbowed you hard in the ribs and warned, “Better not be planning any funny business.”
If your hands weren’t already raised in surrender with the rest of the crew, you would have put them up defensively. But a mischievous smile was playing on your lips as you said, “Who knows what I’m planning?”
“Who said something about my nose?!” Captain Buggy’s voice was so loud that everyone jumped at the exclamation.
Your eyes moved over the fine yet intimidating figure that was the invading clown pirate captain. His outfit was flashy and makeup was unapologetically clownish. He moved with a grace and confidence that belied the outrage he clearly felt over a comment on his nose. You realize that he must have been insecure (and, overall, overcompensating) for something, but what really got your attention was the frown that defied how his makeup stretched into a smile. His makeup begged for him to smile and, aside from whatever insecurity he harbored, he looked like he could take a good joke. It would be a shame if he couldn’t take a good joke, after all, since he was, in fact, a clown.
Everyone averted their eyes when he stared them down, shining blue eyes roving over each member of the crew you belonged to. Everyone, that is, except you. You looked back at him, unwavering, an amused grin on your face.
“What’re you smiling about?” He questioned, taking a few lumbering steps over to you. He was so tall and moved with such unique grace, such intense purpose.
“What? People can’t smile when they see a clown anymore?” You asked back, daring to lower your hands only to be jabbed in the ribs again, this time by a member of Buggy’s crew. Your hands darted back up into a surrender, but you rolled you eyes as you did it. “I thought that was, like, the whole point. And, anyway, you should think about smiling more. A frowny clowny is a little bit of a contradiction, I would think.”
Buggy advanced until he grabbed ahold of your collar and said, head cocked and inches from your face, “Well, Captain Frowny Clowny is a little pissy-wissied because some fuck-twat should have kept their mouth shut instead of talking about something that wasn’t their business. And, come to think of it, I could have sworn that voice came from your direction. Do you know anything about that, princess?”
You could feel his breath on your cheeks, could feel how strong his hand was, and wondered in equal parts what it would be like to be kissed by someone like him and what it would be like to be thrown overboard by someone with such enthusiasm. When you smiled again, his eyes flickered to your lips before darting back to lock gazes with you. He was impatient like a man but as feral as an animal in his intensity.
“I do.”
“Oh, really? Pray, why don’t you share with the class what you know?” If he was an animal, he liked to play with his food before he ate it.
You felt everyone’s eyes on you and you knew that he felt them too: the captive audience for his performance. But he didn’t know that you liked an audience, too.
“All I was saying was—“
“—so it was you who had something to say. Why am I not surprised?—“
“Hush, I’m not done.” Your voice was a little choked from how the collar cut into your throat, but you pushed on anyway, smile as unwavering as the rest of you. “All I was saying was that why are you so upset about your nose when you have so much more to worry about? I mean,” you wheezed out a giggle at how the expression on his face changed, “I mean, you have twice as many eyes as you do noses and you’re acting like your nose is your biggest problem. What’s up with that?”
“What?”
“And don’t even get me started on your ears.”
You and Buggy stared at each other in silence. The whole ship seemed to be holding a collective breath. Your smile settled into a closed mouthed, triumphant smirk, and when he looked at you like he was trying to read another language, you wiggled your eyebrows. Then, just when you thought he was going to throw you overboard after all, a smile broke through the clown’s determinedly fierce looking scowl and you two started to laugh together.
He released his grip on your collar, smoothed down your shirt, and slung an arm over your shoulder. “You’re not half bad, princess.” He started to lead you away from your crew. “You know, I’m feeling generous.” He looked to his crew, “Take the loot, take whatever you want, but they get to live. Go crazy. Let’s give them some stories to take back to port about Captain Buggy and his dastardly crew.”
He waited for the chaos and carnage to start before looking back to you. “Have you ever thought about running away with the circus? Because do I have an offer for you…”
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runningupthatvecna · 1 year
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the law of seat partners | part 3
part 1 | part 2
a/n: ok this chapter is honestly a wild ride from start to finish, really had to look into google maps to get the geographics right here, sorry if it's a bit inaccurate, the dimensions in the us are a bit difficult to grasp for my european brain lol. same goes for the bus interior and the structure of road houses. also this is gonna be super self-indulgent since i keep picturing eddie as someone with this wholesome, kind and super soft stray dog side of personality that you only get to see once you break through his shell and i'm basically just romanticising the shit out of him in this entire story. also i apologize if the whole part is a bit random, it's just that i didn't plan for this thing to even have more than one part lol. anyway, thanks for reading and please leave me comments and reblogs if you're enjoying this little series! there will be a part 4.
summary: you're still on that damn bus with eddie. he plays you some of his favourite songs and they turn out to sound really familiar. when you do finally arrive at the camp, you find yourself spending even more time with your favourite metalhead and he makes it just a bit more clear that he might really like you back. and yeah, everyone around you already seems to know.
cw/tw: first off i want to clarify that eddie and reader both are at least twenty! slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers overall, (brief) allusions to +18 adult content (minors go away!), sexual tension, lots of physical touch, reader being self-conscious, angst, not feeling good enough briefly, a bit of self-sabotage if you squint, a few more pet names, bestfriend!Steve being reader's rock once again, reassurance, eddie not committing a crime, no mention of y/n, no mentions of reader's physical attributes except hair.
-----
Lunch break acted as a reminder that the rest of your friends were also still there.
That's how lost you were getting with Eddie Munson and your legs in his lap.
The gang was once again standing in a kind of circle shaped form outside on the parking lot next to the bus. You had passed Chicago already a while ago and the blue sky hadn't exactly followed you to Wisconsin, but thankfully it wasn't raining either.
Without even thinking about it you had taken the position between Eddie and Steve.
Jonathan and Nancy were standing opposite of you, the former holding his beloved pentax in his hands, it dangling from his shoulder on a strap being the guy's default. Always ready to press the shutter, just so now.
Steve groaned a little, complaining about how his hair just wasn't looking good enough to be in a photo right now, but no one cared. As someone who loved taking photos – probably even more than the Byers boy – it was in fact one of your pet peeves whenever someone complained about having their photo taken. In your book, photos depicted memories. Why wouldn't you want to be in them?
"You gonna fill that film up today, Jon?", you asked with a grin, and the photographer just nodded.
"Alright, now that we caught Steve's mesmerizing beauty on film, anyone wanna go grab a bite?", Robin asked into the round while shifting her weight continuously from her toes to her heels and back, trying her best not to sound too desperate to get something between her teeth.
"Oh shit yeah, I'm dying", Steve replied after a quick yawn and stretch and the three freshmen boys agreed with heavy nods and exclamations of the words yes and finally.
Their boyish eagerness made Nancy chuckle just a little, and she continued by taking the hand of the older Byers boy and pulling him along with her, leading the way to the building for the rest of you.
Jonathan kept turning around every few meters to just take candids of everyone, trying to fill up the roll of film just so he could reload once you guys would arrive at the camp.
Everyone in the gang seemed to be willing to at least check out the offers from the shop, and like, get a slushie or something.
"M'lady?"
Eddie had squinted one of his eyes shut looking at you while holding his arm out for you to hold onto it, just so you both could follow the group.
"Oh, thank you good sir."
He was just a little taller than you, which made walking with your arm hooked into his quite comfortable.
You threw the knowing smile of his towards you right back at him.
And while you were following the rest of your friends, he leaned in to talk to you. Even more.
"Quite rude of Ms Kelley to interrupt our sacred listening session like that. I guess she just doesn't seem to value a good tune, huh?"
"We didn't even start the tape, Eddie."
"But we already had headphones on so we were about to, that still counts."
He poked a finger into your side while walking, trying to stop you from bringing another absolutely valid and logical argument to his silly remark, making you squeak and jump to the side a little instead, letting go of his arm.
You only could see Steve's head turn towards you, having heard your exclamation of surprise. More of his reaction was kept hidden from you though, since Eddie had decided to continue poking, so you were left with no choice but to run, giggling like a toddler.
"Eddieeee, stoooop", you yelled in a higher pitch than your normal voice, trying and failing miserably at the attempt to hide between Robin, Will and Lucas.
You could hear your friends laugh, the sight must have been hilarious.
There was no escaping Eddie the freak Munson.
You had almost reached the motion sensor of the front door when he grabbed you by the waist, pulled your back flush against his front and apparently felt no hesitation encasing you in his arms entirely. He let out a short, low hum at the feeling and it sent a shiver straight through you.
You were slowly getting warm at the frequency you were having physical contact with him, but having so much of his body touching yours in this way did not leave you unaffected in the slightest.
His embrace made your heartbeat speed up, but it also transported this really comforting, almost soothing wave of feeling protected.
And it had you yearning for him. And it was essentially confusing you.
"Say that I'm right", you heard his deep voice mumble, the side of his head pressed lightly against yours.
You could feel the warmth radiating from his body. The way he smelled. The way he held you tight.
Yeah, bye.
"Huh?"
You wanted your voice to sound equally low to his, but it didn't come out quite as such.
"Ms Kelley disrespects the law."
He couldn't be serious.
"Eddieeeeee!", you laughed at his silliness and the great amount of dramatics he put into his persistence with referring to his law of seat partners rule joke thing.
The long haired boy let go of you since the others had caught up. You just saw him grin at you, before Steve swung an arm around his shoulders, pulling his best friend through the sliding doors, while you felt Max grab your hand.
The road house your teachers had decided to stop at consisted of a restaurant, bathrooms of course and a small convenience store, the latter being the destination of Max and you, while the others ventured out into the restaurant, trying to find something warm and edible to stuff themselves with before they would join the both of you.
"Are you having a good time? With him, I mean", Max dropped at you, slowly strolling through the aisles of products that ranged from sweets over car supplies to toothpaste.
The widest grin was plastered over her face as she eyed you curiously.
The question surprised you a little. And maybe you hadn't really been aware of your surroundings for the last few hours, for obvious reasons.
"Hm? Oh yeah, he's being so sweet", you replied to your friend, "not sure what's gotten into him today though, he's never been like this."
Max gave you a questioning look, clearly asking you to elaborate.
"I don't know, I mean he's always throwing arms around me and stuff, but this, I don't know, this feels different", you continued, not being able to meet her eye, "I mean, he's always nice to me when we're around each other, but he seems so much m–"
"He likes you."
Max interrupted your sentence.
"What?"
"It's so fucking obvious. Have you seen the way he looks at you?"
I mean, yeah sure you had taken notice of the way he had been gazing at you with his baby cow eyes all day today. Actually, ever since he met you all those months ago, now that you're thinking about it. But why would you read anything into that?
You felt warmth spreading over your cheeks.
Did Eddie Munson really like you? Like that?
"He's just being nice, Max."
Only now you shot her a look, trying to tell her what you were too self-conscious, even anxious about to say out loud.
Guys never really seemed to see you as someone they could like. You were so used to the vast majority of them treating you as one of their bros, if they even treated you like anything at all, so when there was someone showing interest in you in other ways, it freaked the living hell out of you. To the point of denying yourself something potentially nice. Or more like, someone nice.
"Just nice? He is never that nice to me! I think you're just way too much in your head about this. You know you like him. And he likes you back, it's crystal clear to me, in fact, to all of us."
Wait. All of them? Had he talked to anyone about you?
Now you were the one giving her the questioning look, and before you could say anything, Robin popped up next to the both of you with a pair of wide eyes along with raised eyebrows.
"Okay, what are we buying, hm? I need more cookies, Steve and Jonathan ate all of them already", she informed you, walking off to find her restock of baked sweets, just as quickly as she had appeared.
You giggled lightly at the similarity of her and your snack situation.
Max only gave you a grin and a wink through her sky blue eyes before following Robin to the cookie section. The boys and Nancy returned from their feast not long after and you had tried your best to bring your focus to the task at hand: finding something snackable that wasn't too much of an overload, but also essential for the remaining time on the road.
Steve grabbed and pulled you away from the others on the way outside, back to the bus. The thirty minutes were almost over and no one wanted to risk being left in the middle of nowhere aka Bumfuck, Wisconsin, nor having a search party consisting of Ms Kelley and Mr Clarke out roaming the area.
"Hey there", Steve looked at you while walking by your side and throwing an arm around you.
He truly was your best friend and so you just happened to know everything about each other's lives. He had always been your rock throughout high school and mainly responsible for having you be part of the gang. He knew about your issues and always tried to give you advice.
You let your arm sneak around Steve's back, around the height of his waist.
"Everything alright with you, honey?"
You glanced up at him just nodding and he shot you a knowing look, before turning his head around to wink at someone.
The grin on his face widened before turning his attention back to you.
"Uh yeah, I'm having a good time, thanks for checking on me", you replied to him while holding onto the box of chocolates you had ended up buying.
"Munson treating you right I hope, yeah?", Steve inquired further.
You could feel your heart jump a little at the mention of Eddie's name. What you also could feel was the eyes of the long wavy haired boy on your back. He had run after Dustin who had pinched his ass on the way out and you just assumed they were a bit further behind you and Steve.
"A bit more than usual, yeah. I don't really understand why, though. Max said he likes me? But–"
A little frown now covered Steve's lightly freckled face.
You stopped. He stopped. And kept his arm around you. And then you sighed, when his big brown eyes found yours and the way he looked at you changed into a worried brow furrow.
"I think I'm terrified, Steve. I don't know how to behave around him seriously and I don't know how to handle all the affection. That's all so new and I don't want to disappoint him because he deserves someone who's able to give him everything he wants and he's already making himself vulnerable by letting someone in close like that and what if he's gonna realise that I'm just really weird for not being used to–"
"Hey, hey sweetheart, slow down", Steve put a stop to your little ramble, a soft tone to his voice, "you're overthinking. You like him, isn't that right?"
You just looked up at him, almost a bit teary eyed since you were realising a lot of things at the moment, and dealing with your own insecurities and issues was just not easy. Especially in a situation where you couldn't retreat or flee.
And then you nodded.
Steves frown shifted into a grin.
"Then there's absolutely nothing to worry about. Eddie right there is probably genuinely surprised that you're not shying or running away from him, like everyone else. Just look."
Steve pointed in Eddie's direction which made you turn your head. Next thing you saw was the metalhead chasing after Dustin again, both of them running through the group trying not to bump into anyone, all the way over the expanse of the parking lot like two headless chickens, his dark mane flowing in the wind which carried the laughter and giggles of the whole group over to you.
The sight made you laugh a little.
"I mean, not that he really ever tried to get close to someone, like, he doesn't have to try for people to be sort of intimidated and even scared off by him, but that's besides the point. Anyway, I just know for a fact that you could never disappoint him. I'm very sure he's gonna be fine adapting himself to your pace", Steve explained and then paused to take a deep breath.
"It's up to you of course, but I'd just hate to see you get in your own way just because you're too much in your own pretty, little head."
You had snapped your head around again, and Steve lovingly ruffled your hair a little, the way he always did when he tried to tell you that he'd always be there for you and the situation you'd found yourself in would turn out just fine.
You would be just fine.
Deep down you knew Steve was right.
"Yeah, yeah I know. You know how I can get sometimes", you replied to him, reciprocating the same look Steve was now giving you. The depth in his brown eyes was radiating warmth and it helped you calm down your racing thoughts. Steve had known Eddie for a bit longer and was closer with him in general, which was one of your reasons to believe the words of your best friend. In this moment at least.
-----
It was time for the tape.
You took off your shoes again and pulled your legs up to rest your feet on the barrier, this time right in front of you, facing more towards the window.
The boy next to you was still trying to catch his breath from shaking off some energy, pulling a squished paper bag with greasy spots out of the back pocket of his jeans and placing it on his lap, before he lost the vest and leather jacket. He then proceeded to sit down, take both of your headphones and held yours out to you.
"Alright, unlike Ms Kelley, let's obey the law again, huh?"
He let out a deep chuckle when you nodded with a smile.
"Oh hey, and I got you some extra fries, just in case you get hungry."
He handed the small paper bag to you.
Did he just carry fries in his ass pocket?
The thought made you snort.
Oh Munson.
"Did you pay for them?"
"Yeah of course I did. Is that all you think of me, sweetheart?"
There they were again. His dark brown doe eyes blinking at you all sweet, the purest form of Eddie he was willing to show you in this moment.
He was clearly letting you in. Showing himself to you. Letting you read his eyes, hoping you would take the hint which he secretly was yet too insecure to speak out.
He was the town's freak after all and getting his hopes up had never really turned out too positive for him. It had painfully taught him to better keep everyone at a distance.
It took every little ounce of willpower that you could find in yourself to not melt into a puddle, right there in that seat.
And if that wasn't enough already – him being thoughtful enough to think of you while devouring his own lunch – he pressed play on your walkman, before you could give him any sort of response to the fries situation.
The fact that the opening chords of Everybody Wants To Rule The World by Tears for Fears now filled your ears, your absolute favourite song, was sending you into another dimension.
How did he know your favourite fucking song? Did he ask Steve? He must have asked Steve.
He had asked Steve specifically about your music taste.
So many thoughts were flooding your brain at the same time, you were having trouble catching up.
The boy next to you just grinned at your visibly delighted reaction. And then he leaned in a little and you felt the heat once again rise to your cheeks.
"Is that good, that's a real good song, yeah?", you heard him ask, a very light sultry tone to his voice, after you quickly pushed one of your headphones behind your ear.
"Yes Eddie, immaculate choice right there", you praised him in a similar tone, before giving him a genuine giggle, unable to hide the way he was undeniably making you all flustered and earning another warm chuckle from him in return.
The way his cheeks turned into a beautiful shade of rose almost made your heart combust in your ribcage. At this point he was practically beaming with pride, reveling in the fact that he had elicited praise out of you. And it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.
You lightly nudged your shoulder into his, which made him lift his arm, a gesture for you to lean into his figure.
"Come here, you."
That head of yours landed on his shoulder and you let him drape his arm over your torso like a seatbelt. A (still very) warm hand was placed between your waist and hip and you were pretty convinced it was going to burn a big hole right through the fabric of your shirt.
He just had to touch you, right?
His boldness however gave you enough of a confidence boost to return the gesture. At this point you needed to tell him, too. Make him feel the burn on his own skin. So you just hugged his arm, pulling it close and nuzzling the side of your face into the soft fabric of his hellfire shirt covering the skin between bicep and shoulder.
With every song you went on listening to, it became more clear than ever that Eddie Munson must really have gone all the way to Steve Harrington's house to ask him for a list of your favourite songs. Which he could then put on a mixtape. For you.
That's what you do for friends, right?
Yeah, right.
For a few songs you both just sat there in utter peace as you watched the landscape outside the window pass by. The wide plains of Wisconsin, fields of crops, forests, small gatherings of houses, farms, barns and horses and cows and sheep. The sky was slowly losing its light grey cover, which had you anticipating an actually nice sunset later.
He had leaned his head against yours, which made his warm breath trickle down the side of your neck down to your collarbone. And you had felt the goosebumps spread all over your arms underneath your longsleeve.
You were feeding off of the warmth radiating from Eddie's body once again, and the ringed hand on your waist had started rubbing up and down softly and slowly.
When Eddie felt you leaning more of your weight into his side, you could hear him let out a satisfied little sigh.
Every second of this part of your little road trip, whenever he tried to search for some form of physical closeness, felt like a fever dream.
And you didn't want to wake up just yet. How about never?
-----
Golden hour announced itself by coating the trees of the forest, the earthy paths for walking, the accumulation of dark wooden cabins and the water on the vast lake in gradients of yellow and orange.
Said lake would look more like the sea to you, it made little waves that were lightly crashing onto the shore of a small beach of a bay around which the camp was located, and it was so vast in fact that you were unable to see the opposing shore on the horizon.
You had just woken up from another nap which you had slipped into after one, two, you actually don't know how many hours of watching the endless fields and forests pass by through half-closed eyelids. Listening to The Romantics, New Order, Fleetwood Mac, The Cure, Genesis and of course Metallica, on Eddie's account.
Still surrounded by the warmth of his body, still tucked in between torso and arm. His hand however had sneakily breached an invisible barrier, now resting comfortably beneath the hem of your shirt on the skin of your waist. You didn't dare to check, but the hole in your shirt was certainly there now, burned through.
Even Ms Kelley's announcement of your arrival didn't bother any of you to move or shift positions. Or god forbid, separate your bodies.
You only slightly turned your head to watch Mr Clarke leave the bus in the corner of your eye, probably to head into the administration office of the camp with the intention to make your arrival known to the staff and to pick up keys for about 40 students.
From what they had told you pre-trip, you were gonna be sharing a cabin with Nancy, Robin and Max, since the plan foresaw keeping the middle schoolers separate from the older kids. And of course there couldn't be any cabins accommodating groups of mixed genders.
Which is precisely why Eddie was going to share his cabin with Jonathan, Steve and Dustin, while Lucas and Will had the honours to be joined in theirs by Gareth and Jeff.
Before letting you go to take the headphones off and gather all your things, Eddie's grip on your waist tightened a bit as he pulled you minimally closer for just two seconds, the vibration of his chest against your back telling you that he was humming softly.
You already missed him, and you hadn't even left the bus yet.
The structure of the camp was simple. There were ten cabins, each of them intended to accommodate up to four people comfortably. A row of them was spread out along the shore of the lake directly by the water. Another row spread out further towards the forest. Both separated by the same earthy pathway stretching and winding itself through the entire place, connecting the cabins to the rest of the camp. There were little houses with sanitary facilities not too far from the cabins, a little square with lots of seating opportunities intended for bonfires, barbecue and other gatherings, the office house, the beach further down the path past the cabins, and a pergola kinda situation with benches for mealtime and a corner with outdoor couches and further more cozy seating.
The cabin you were designated to spend your next 6 nights in was one of those directly by the water. Excitement spread through you at the thought of falling asleep to the peaceful sound of the lake water lightly hitting the shore at night and cicadas singing their songs after sunset. Frogs croaking and birds chirping away. The ambient background noise of a forest by the lake.
You had always been a dreamer.
"Top one's mine!", Robin exclaimed as she was the first one of you to enter, throwing her bag onto one of the top beds that were part of two bunks standing opposite of each other in each corner, a window with light beige and pastel floral curtains separating them.
You were loving the rustic atmosphere. The log aesthetic gave off the biggest summer cottage vibes, so taking in the interior of your small home for the next few days made you smile.
There were two closets with multiple drawers, enough space for accommodating clothing of four people.
The bag hanging from your shoulder landed on the bed below Robin's, while the other two silently agreed on Max above, Nancy on the same level as you.
The beds themselves were about the standard bunk bed size, nothing too fancy, but of course all wooden, fresh bedsheets folded into a neat pile along with a towel decorating the mattress.
While you were getting to making your bed (you knew that you'd thank yourself later), your mind started wondering if you could fit maybe even two people in there. For science, of course.
All of you had agreed to meet at the fireplace once everyone had dropped off their stuff, and when you and the girls arrived there, six pairs of eyes were already awaiting you.
The boys had probably just messily thrown their belongings onto their respective beds, not giving a flying fuck about pulling the covers over the duvets or maybe even taking power naps after the journey.
So yeah, night number one ended with all of you sitting by the fire that Mr Clarke and some guy from the staff team had set up. Conversations about everyone's most anticipated activities that were planned and scheduled for this week were held, your friends' former earth and science teacher telling stories about his first time field tripping back in the day.
Once again you were sat between Steve and Eddie, the metalhead's leather jacket around your shoulders, because he had insisted you'd take it. A sly grin on his face directed at you at the gesture, before turning his attention to the mutual best friend on your other side.
The younger kids had been tucked in by Ms Kelley already, since their curfew had been set to 9pm. Yours was at eleven.
You admired the multiple strings of fairy lights that had been hung into the lower maze of branches long ago, illuminating the earthy pathways throughout the whole camp to keep the kids from stumbling off into some bush or having to pull out flashlights.
At least until midnight, cause that's when the lights were going to be turned off.
-----
Your first full day at camp. The teachers had taken the whole group to a hike through the forest and up the hill at the end of the bay, overviewing the stunning scenery and you had taken a few moments away from everyone to take in the enormousness of the vision opening up in front of you.
Closing your eyes, you tried to wrap your head around the moment, taking a few deep breaths, feeling the freshness of the air surrounding you.
Slow down.
The sun made the deep blue of the sky reflect on the lake, a shimmer on the surface in the distance, sparse trees and bushes covering the top of the hill you were standing on, a bit separately from most kids.
The light brush of a hand against yours caused you to shoot open your eyes, jumping lightly at the sudden delicate yet profound touch.
"Uh, sorry I didn't mean to sneak up on you. I can also leave again if you want another moment to yourself?", you heard him say, an apologetic tone to his voice.
The rough facade now showed cracks.
Traces of softness, a great amount of empathy and hints of sensitivity were shining through them. He had always been a little more gentle with you than with everyone else in the group, but this telltale sign of trust he was instilling in you over the last hours? That was new.
So new. And so new to you.
Your head turned towards him, eyes squinting a bit because yeah, it was quite bright up there with almost no trees to throw shade, and of course clumsy you had forgotten your sunglasses on the little nightstand next to your bed.
"Eddie no, it's okay" was the only thing you managed to get out, brushing the back of his hand with the back of your index finger, in silent search for more contact, trying to support the words that had just come out of you.
It was just Eddie. You tried to remember Steve's words from lunch break yesterday. He's gonna be okay with adapting.
He turned his back on the sun, more towards you, and the light formed a halo around his head.
Given his reputation back in Hawkins, it looked hilariously absurd.
"Did you have a good first night?", you asked him then, in such a tone indicating your expectation of a sincere answer, while his shadow was covering half your face so you wouldn't have to stare into the late afternoon sun.
"More or less. You know how Steve snores", Eddie said before continuing his dramatic act, "plus, it was really lonely. I think there should be an additional paragraph in the law about an extension from bus seats to beds, you know? I think that would make a real difference and save me from eternal doom and misery."
He returned your previous gesture with his own index finger, his eyes finding yours, giving you a sheepish grin as your cheeks started imitating the colour of very ripe tomatoes.
Your entire body bloomed with electricity from just one light touch. If you didn't know any better, you'd say it was ridiculous.
Yes, there had already been touches that were way more direct than this, but there was something in the way and in the lightness of his touch now, that had your head spinning.
The lightness basically fuelled whatever this thing between the two of you was.
Ms Kelley's voice announcing the beginning of your descend ripped the both of you out of whatever moment you were having right there, and it sucked.
You could have stood there with him for the rest of eternity, if it meant being looked at by his warm, reassuring eyes, making you feel as if you were the center of the universe. It felt like his gaze was reaching the deepest corner of your soul.
And your brain started going 200 kilometers an hour, thinking about the allusion Eddie had just made. He was starting to consume your every thought at this point.
As a collective you managed to return to the deep green veils of the forest around an hour before sunset.
Slowly the day was coming to an end and since it had been a rather warm experience for everyone, the teachers had kindly granted you an evening dip in the lake.
High schoolers only though. Thank fuck.
Honestly, you probably would have gone for it anyway.
The beach included a small wooden pier leading into deeper water, which the boys delightedly acknowledged before using it to gracefully yeet themselves into the cold wet.
They also didn't deem it necessary to strip themselves of their clothes beforehand.
Too much enthusiasm and even more longing for relief from the day's heat and physical efforts. Who knew Michigan could be this warm already in May?
The girls and you had preferred to change into actual swimwear before joining the boys on the beach. A wise decision.
Because now you found yourself standing on the pier together with Nancy and Max, watching Robin follow Steve and dive in head first.
You were silently hoping the water was deep enough for her to not hit her head.
Next thing you saw approaching you on that pier was Eddie, dripping wet everything and soaked to the bone, some worn out jean shorts and dark blue Metallica shirt as well as his dark curls sticking to his skin like glue.
He left a trail of wet footsteps and sprinkles and splashes of water on the dry wood, grinning at you almost eerily and you threw him a similar glance back, because you knew he just wasn't anticipating your abilities to foresee the future when you jumped out of the way the second he started running towards you, trying to pull you into the water with him.
He landed face first, while everyone who had just witnessed that scene bursted into laughter, including you.
"You wish, Munson", you shouted at him and his poorly executed attempt once he had resurfaced, his appearance now reminding you of a wet poodle with his wet dark curls that were sticking to his reddened face, a piece of some green sweetwater plant decorating the top of his head.
You weren't ready to hit the water just yet, which is why Nancy and you decided to just plop down on the pier for a moment with crossed legs, while Max joined Robin and the boys.
Observing the scene happening in front of you, there were Dustin, Lucas and Jonathan, all of them fusioning their powers to swim after a screeching Will who was trying his best to escape being cruelly dunked by his brother and friends, Robin trying to stand on Steve's probably slippery shoulders while Eddie and Max were aiming for the same acrobatic performance.
Nancy next to you let out a chuckle at the sight before turning her head in your direction, "today was so nice, don't you think?"
With a nod you replied to her and leaned back on your arms behind you.
"Yeah it was beautiful! You just don't get those views in Hawkins."
"Yeah, absolutely not. The closest thing you're getting there is Lover's lake with a bunch of drunks fishing in their tiny boats, and that's about it", she paused, "are you in with us for the flower crowns tomorrow?"
Midsummer was still a few weeks away, but that didn't stop you from plucking and braiding.
You and the girls had been having this fantasy of spending this excessive amount of time in nature with flower crowns on your heads, inspired by Scandinavian summer solstice traditions. For weeks you all had been painting this picture in your conversations, anticipation bubbling up every time the topic came up. The picture of the four of you with the flowers of summer in your hair, in the deep green shades and distinct scent of the forest surrounding your every breath these days, had rented a big part of your mind, long before you had stepped on the bus, bringing you here.
"Hm? Oh yeah, definitely."
Losing yourself a little in the thought again, you hadn't yet taken notice of how two figures from the group of people in the water in front of you were missing.
You would learn soon, though.
Because before you knew it, a pair of strong, wet hands hooked themselves in the space of your armpits, lifting you up to stand, while another set of arms wasn't too shy to grab both your legs off the ground, wrapping themselves around your knees.
"Let's get you nice and wet, shall we?", you heard Steve's voice come out behind you in an absurdly husky tone, while–
"Time for your bath, princess!"
Eddie.
You were so taken by surprise, you couldn't even get anything in form of a verbal protest out.
The only thing you saw before your vision went black due to your reflexes was Eddie's mischievous grin between strands of his dark and wet curly mane, Steve's pearly whites being flashed at you equally prominent. Their laughter got muffled by the water invading your ear canals, and the sudden shock of the cold liquid surrounding every inch of your sun warmed skin was forcing a gasp out of your lungs.
When you returned to the surface, both of the boys held onto their bellies, high-fiving one another and still laughing on that pier like two fucking dipshits at you as well as at Nancy who apparently got to suffer the same fate as you, being dropped into the ocean mere seconds later.
With the back of your fingers you wiped the water out of your eyes along with strands of your hair that were clinging onto your cheeks for dear life, while you gathered back clear vision.
Unknowing to the two boys, Jonathan, Lucas and Dustin were currently in the process of sneaking up behind them. With big splashes both Eddie and Steve were forced to ungracefully breach the waves next to you, letting out equally surprised gasps for air before they had to instinctively hold their breaths.
You burst out into another laughing fit when the metalhead slowly appeared next to you just as soaked as half an hour ago, his hair now covering his entire face.
You took one stroke towards him while Jonathan and Dustin landed in the water not too far from you, shortly after being followed by Lucas and Max cannonballing their way in to join everyone.
The laughter and giggles filled the warm air, and you took both your hands to wipe Eddie's mane out of his face, just to reveal his brown chocolate orbs and a dorky smile, gazing at you from underneath.
The ground of the lake where you were finding yourself was close enough for you both to stand on, which made not sinking a lot easier.
"Thanks, sweetheart" was the only thing he brought out before putting a hand on your waist, pulling you closer before wrapping both his arms around your middle, while you responded by wrapping yours around his shoulders.
You thought he was going to bury his face in the crook of your neck with how close he was leaning in just now, connecting his lips to your skin, but all he really did was briefly running his nose over the side of your neck in an upwards motion. Giving you a little nudge while letting out another one of his hums.
It was almost like he wanted to do more than that, it was almost like you could feel him holding himself back. It was almost like you wanted him not to.
His warm breath hit the wet skin on your collarbone and it sent a slight shiver right through your system at the sheer thought of what exactly he was holding back.
And just when you felt him let go of you a bit more, you saw your chance at taking at least a little bit of revenge on him. For conspiring against you with Steve Harrington.
You placed your hands on his shoulders, found purchase on the ground, and your own weight forced him to go head below surface once again.
"Oh darling, that was an unwise decision", was all you heard before he returned the favour, his entire weight on yours as he drowned you beneath him, just before bringing one of his unnecessarily muscular arms around you to pull you back up again swiftly.
Soon after a few more dunks that you practised on Steve and Dustin, your swimming session came to an end when the sun had disappeared behind the trees and the sunset-ish colours of the horizon had faded into several shades of purple and blue.
After fresh showers that helped with rinsing off the lake water and smuck and sweat of the day, the older boys had decided to drop you off at the flower cabin, a nickname for your particular accommodation facility Lucas had come up with during the first bonfire.
To say goodnight or something.
Eddie held you in his grasp, pressed you into his chest for a second, letting you know that you meant something to him, shooting you one last glance, a hint of wistfulness in it, before disappearing surprisingly quickly into the dusk of the forest, towards the cabin he shared with the others.
You hugged Steve and Jonathan goodnight as well, the latter wearing a smirk on his face and you instantly wondered about the reason.
When you looked at your own pillow, you stopped wondering. A polaroid photo had been placed there for decoration, and you let yourself plop down on the mattress to inspect it more closely.
Jonathan had only recently started shooting polaroid in the first place, and the sun had delivered enough light for him to avoid using flash for this one, which had the colours of everything come out more natural.
The photo showed Eddie in his bus seat. You in yours, resting with his arm wrapped around you, his head on yours, both with your headphones on, both passed out. Steve, Dustin, Will and Robin behind you with widened eyes, tongues out and peace signs up.
Unable to hide the smile that spread on your face, you placed the photo on the little nightstand accompanying the bed.
Everyone knew. You knew. Eddie probably knew. But who would say it first?
-----
taglist: @josephfakingquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @spellbounddd, @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint, @mystars123, @gothmingguk, @kennafild, @chloe-6123, @michaelfuckinglangdon and @bakugouswh0r3
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smeddiemunson · 1 year
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hi! could i request steddie with 56 “shut up and kiss me already” and 149 “since when have we ever been friends?” like hurt/comfort sorta thing? thank you :)
hi @r0binscript​ hope you like it 🖤 thank you for the prompt!
56: “shut up and kiss me already.”
149: “since when have we ever been friends?” 
Steve hadn’t been to a party since Tina’s Halloween extravaganza in high school. He wasn’t traumatised or anything, just ever since he had his heart broken in a bathroom, the smell of teenage vomit and mixed drinks didn’t hold the same appeal as it used to. He wasn’t sure why it ever appealed to him in the first place. 
He remembered enjoying the press of bodies against his own, of being faceless in a crowd, and the fuzziness that came with alcohol. He remembered gossiping with girls in his lap, giggling over the things they said, then giggling into one another’s mouths. But now... he wasn’t sure if he could ever feel that again. 
But Robin had been invited by Vickie and she’d been too nervous to come by herself. So Steve, as her self-appointed soulmate, had to be there as well. 
Robin had found Vickie within about five minutes of walking through the open front door, ignoring Steve’s mumbled gripe about them letting all the cold air in by leaving it open. So Steve had spent most of the night hanging out in the kitchen, refilling his red solo cup with water every so often then nursing it as he people watched. He caught glimpses of Robin every so often, shooting her thumbs up whenever see caught his eye back, looking as panicked as she probably felt. But Vickie hadn’t yet run for the hills so he wasn’t worried about her. 
Eventually, the water made its way through his system and he was forced to leave his post in search of the bathroom. 
The house wasn’t big, but the amount of people crammed into the hallway made it hard to navigate. He managed to get to the bathroom but on his return to the kitchen, he got swept away by the sea of bodies and ended up in an empty garage.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t King Steve,” A voice said from the darkness. 
Steve flipped the light switch on. 
“Eddie,” Steve greeted.
Even after their flirt with death and the neighbouring hospital beds that came after, Steve had never quite been able to make it through to Eddie. He kept Steve at arms length, determined to keep their roles the same; Steve the King and Eddie the Freak.
He didn’t know that that wasn’t who Steve was anymore.
“You know this is a high school party, right?” Eddie sneered.
Steve sighed. It was going to be one of those times. Eddie being combative before Steve could even say anything.
“Robin wanted me to come. Vickie invited her.”
The sneer fell off Eddie’s face.
Steve was sure Robin never told him, but he knew anyway and that terrified Steve. Terrified him because it meant that maybe Robin wasn’t being as careful as she thought she was or maybe Eddie wasn’t the only one that had found out. But Eddie had never said anything.
And that counted as something to Steve. It was the sign he needed to keep trying, to keep asking Eddie how Hellfire was when he went to pick up the kids, to offer him an invitation to the Byers-Hopper “we coped with the Upside Down again” barbecue. Eddie hadn’t taken him up on any of it yet. But Steve was determined.
“What are you doing in the garage?” He asked once the silence had stretched on for a second too long.
Eddie chuckled humourlessly. “I can deal but I can’t be seen. It’s social suicide for me to be seen in the house, so I’ve been locked away in here like a fucking dog.” He pushed a hand through his hair, causing it to stick up in awkward ways. “But at least I’ve got beer to keep me going.”
He gestured to the dark corner. An empty six pack sat next to a sturdy blue cooler and Eddie’s black metal lunchbox.
Eddie having been drinking suddenly explained why he was so ready to snap at Steve.
“Come on,” Steve said quietly. He crossed the room in four long strides to the door he hoped led to the yard. “Let’s get out of here.”
“What about Robin?” Eddie asked sadly. He was still expecting Steve to be pushed away by his attitude.
But if there was one thing Steve was, it was stubborn. He wasn’t going to give in this easily.
“She’s with Vickie, she’ll be fine.”
He cracked the door open, sending up a silent prayer that it was the door to the yard and waited for Eddie to catch up. He went back to his dark corner to snatch up his lunchbox from the floor then strode past Steve without another word.
Eddie placed his lunchbox on the floor next to his feet and turned back to watch Steve, his arm crossed protectively over his chest.
Steve stepped through the door and leant his back against the wall, trying his best to make sure he looked approachable and open to talking. He wanted Eddie to talk.
But Eddie didn’t seem like he wanted to, which scared Steve because Eddie always seemed like he wanted to talk. Steve remembered him in high school, remembered him running his mouth of at teacher or students any chance he got.
So Steve started talking instead. “This fucking sucks, Eddie. You shouldn’t be treated like that, no one should!” Then much quieter, through his teeth, an almost hiss. “You didn’t fucking do anything! You’re a hero!”
Really he didn’t realise just how angry he was until he said it out loud. How dare these people pretend that Eddie wasn’t the best of them, that he wasn’t one of the most special people to ever be in Steve’s life; even though he didn’t know him that well, Steve at least knew that.
Eddie only shrugged. “I’m used to it. Should be lucky I can even sell anymore.”
And that hurt more than anything. The complete resignation to being treated like he wasn’t even human.
“I’m worried about you, man,” Steve confessed quietly, probably not loud enough for Eddie to hear.
But Eddie did. He bristled. “Why?”
“Because we’re friends?” Steve fired back.
Eddie scoffed. “Since when have we ever been friends?”
“Since we went through hell together? We’ve all been trying to tell you this.” Steve sighed, he just didn’t know what more he could do. So he did something he never did. He begged. “I’ve been trying. You just gotta let me. Please.”
Eddie scoffed again, the noise sounding suspiciously wet. “I can’t, man.”
“Why not?”
“Because what if…” Eddie turned away from him, staring out at the yard and only letting Steve see the steady rise and fall of his shoulders, voice thick with emotion when he continued. “What if you get to know me and realise I’m not worth it?”
“Not worth what?”
Eddie threw his hands up, gesturing towards everything as he turned back to face Steve. “This. All of this. The family barbecues, the fucking niceties.” Eddie looked away again. “Your attention.”
Steve pushed off the wall, standing to his full height. He was ready to fight his case. “I think I know who deserves my—“
“I’m gay, Steve,” Eddie hissed, as if were venom, as if it was something that would scare Steve away. He pushed at Steve’s chest, forcing him up against the wall.
It was so similar to their time in the boathouse. Eddie’s wild eyes daring Steve to make a move, only this time he didn’t have a broken bottle against Steve’s throat. He wasn’t scared, could never be scared of Eddie again. In fact, he felt brave.
Steve closed his eyes as he said it.
“I’m bisexual.”
It wasn’t even something he’d told Robin yet. He’d known about himself for a long time but whenever he tried to tell her, the words got stuck in his throat. They burned as they pushed past the barrier now. He squeezed his eyes closed tighter.
Eddie began to pull away but Steve’s hand flew out to grip Eddie’s shirt, holding him close. It wasn’t cold by any means, but he welcomed Eddie’s heat.
He opened his eyes to meet Eddie’s confused ones.
“I promise you, you’re worth all this, Eddie.”
A wounded noise came from the back of Eddie’s throat. But Steve pushed on.
“And I’ll keep telling you until you believe me. Every day, a million times a day if that’s what it takes.”
Eddie inched forward. “Promise me you won’t regret this in the morning?” 
“Shut up and kiss me already.” Steve’s chest brushed against Eddie’s as they breathed in tandem. Steve exhaled a breath, Eddie inhaled the same air. His back was slowly growing wet from where it was pushed against the wall, but all he wanted, all he thought he would ever want again, was to know what it felt like to have Eddie kiss him.
Eddie’s eyes darted across his face.
In the morning Steve would feel bad that he pushed this while Eddie was clearly feeling vulnerable. But in that moment all he could do was tighten the hold he had on Eddie’s shirt and tug.
Eddie’s lips crashed into his, hot and wet and insistent.
It was a start.
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tadashisdisaster · 1 year
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𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱 & 𝐇𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧 | 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭
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Cw / Twˏˋ°•*⁀➷ fem!reader, heavy smut, Dom!Felix, Dom!Hyunjin, public sex, unprotected sex, Fingering, hickeys, not a 3some fyi, morning sex
AN ~ I honestly had to think long and hard about having these 2 beauties in an involved relation (3some) with the reader. So this is just 2 stories in one. Enjoy! Btw why do they look so pretty in this gif? Like Felix looks like a doll and Hyunjin looks like an angel.
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‗ ❍ Felix 🖇️📁
You stretch your sleepy arms and arch your back as you slowly woke up from your slumber. You turn to look at Felix’s dazed eyes. His warm smile, small freckles, and soft brown eyes made you feel like you were still dreaming. “Good morning love.” Felix says in his raspy morning voice. You return the smile and a quiet “morning…”.
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like mornings like this. You laying down with your boyfriend on top of you, sweat running down his temple and onto his chest making you more needier that before. The white sheets covering both your sweating bodies. “Fuck, think I’ma cum baby…” you nod letting him know you were close too then-
“Hey Felix, Min-ho was wondering if you’d prefer-“ Chan slowly opens the door and stops. “Pancakes…for…breakfast?” Chan quickly looks away, locks the door from the inside and closes it. “I’ll just tell him you don’t really mind.” Chan says from behind the door.
Felix stares at the door for a while longer then looks back down at you. His face flushed crimson red from your previous activities and the embarrassment of being caught. He rests his head on your shoulder and shallowly moves in and out of your wet cunt. “M’not sure if you still wanna continue…?” His hands squeeze your waist at the word continue. You kiss his neck, “I do, do you still want to continue?”
Min-ho gets ready to knock on the bedroom door then stops already have heard enough of what Felix was “busy doing”. He was busy doing you.
Previously when Chan went down stairs to tell Seungmin that Felix was “busy”.
Chan: Felix said he didn’t mind and he seemed…preoccupied with doing something.”
Min-ho: “Oh okay.” ‘I’ll just let him know when the food’s done.” Is what he thought to do, and he did, only to regret it.
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‗ ❍ Hyunjin 🖇️📁
Hyunjin had invited you to eat with him and his friends for dinner. It wasn’t a fancy place but it wasn’t a Mc Donald’s either. A simple hot pot place near by celebrating their grand opening. You wanted to look nice because when was the last time you actually went out? You put on a blue white and black pleated skirt with plaid designing on it with a cool button down white shirt with short sleeves. You put a pair of long socks with bows on it because you knew that Hyunjin loved them and your Mary janes.
Hyunjin couldn’t stop looking at how cute you looked. The car ride there was so painful, and by painful I mean, the uncomfortably aching and throbbing hard on shoved in his pants. At least he had decided to wear a coat that covered his crotch so no one could see his oh so prominent boner sticking through his boxers. It wasn’t fair, you looked so sweet, Hyunjin wanted to carry you with him in his pocket, but he also wanted to ruin you right here and now.
He couldn’t take it anymore. Hyunjin gently tugged at the hem of your skirt to follow him to the bathroom. You put your glass on the table and followed him.
“God you look so cute princess. Did this for me?” You nod your head and squeeze your eyes shut as he adds another finger to the mix. He scissors his finger and moves deeper into your dripping cunt touching that one gummy spot that makes your world spin. “M’gonna cum Hyun-“
“Cum for me then.” You gush all over his fingers, your right leg trembling due to the harsh orgasm. Hyunjin begins to unbuckle his belt when he heard a small, “Are you guys done? We’re about to order dessert…” Changbin say. You flush with embarrassment as Hyunjin continues to pull out his cock.
He rubs his angry red tip at your entrance and gives you a smirk. “Yeah, we’re almost done.” The door closes as he sinks you down onto his cock, wrapping both your legs around his waist.
Changbin and Seungmin wondering what’s taking you so long…
Seungmin: “What’s taking them?”
Changbin: “I have no idea…”
Seungmin: “Want me to go check or…”
Changbin: “Nah I’ll go check.”
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m0ther-of-p3arl · 1 year
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i crack and out i pour
(robert aeor high au p3)
masterpost
FINALLY JIMMY'S HERE ODKSLFJLSDKJ i've been waiting so long for this ohhh my god welp this is the longest update yet :)
hope you like!!
Jimmy. So that’s his name- Joel had been wrong about that bit, at least. Scott can’t help but take note of his ruffled blonde hair, short and scruffy, tucked behind his ear with a pink, flower-patterned hair clip, his standard knee-length skirt showing thin, bird-like legs. He’s quite short, his height even less impressive than Scott’s five foot seven stature, and this is what causes Scott to come to a startling realization: Jimmy can be no one else but the person he’s just bumped into in the hallway; if only he’d known.
or, Scott meets the new boy! and they have a conversation :)
(4279 words)
Science is decidedly Scott’s favorite class, if only because he shares it with Owen and Shelby. To be fair, though, he does somewhat enjoy what they do, loves that he can just sit and talk to his two friends while doing some dumb experiment where everyone knows what the final reaction will be. Stepping into the familiar, vaulted classroom today, Scott scans the tables quickly, spotting Shubble and rushing over to claim the seat next to her, as Owen doesn’t seem to be here yet.
That’s another great thing about science: they’re allowed to choose their own seats, and they can choose new places to sit every day. Scott is almost always sitting with Shelby and Owen, his two friends in the class- the only time when he’s not is when Shubble wants to sit with Pearl and her group of crazy friends, or Owen with Lilith, his partner. But today, Shelby’s sat at the table they usually pick, nestled comfortably in the back corner: Scott’s favorite place.
“Hey, Scott!” Shelby smiles in greeting, eir legs swinging from her chair as eir eyes just barely peek over the table, her mushroom hat the only reason Scott was able to spot em in the first place.
“Hey, Shubble,” he says, “Do you want something to sit on?”
“Yes please,” Shelby exhales, “I tell you, it’s hard being this short.”
“For your species, you’re actually quite large,” Scott points out, pulling a few textbooks out of his school bag and plopping them down next to his friend. Technically, what he’s said about Shelby’s height is true. For a gnome, ey’re very tall, but for any other species? Not so much. She stands at a whopping three foot five, and the few times Scott’s seen her with her parents, ey’ve been towering over them by at least six inches. “You can sit on these, I don’t need them till later.”
Shelby’s dark brown hair is parted into two braids, which stick out from underneath her iconic hat, made of a bright red mushroom speckled with large white spots. Ey’re one of the only people who actually looks good in the school uniform, the navy blue and white tie complimenting her dark eyes quite nicely.
“Thank you, Scott.” Shubble says, propping up his textbooks on her seat and clambering atop them, crossing eir arms neatly on the table. She’s always polite, and that’s one of the reasons Scott loves em so much. They’ve been friends for almost three years, the final addition to their little group, that until Shelby came along, had been composed of only Scott, Joel, and Owen. 
And speaking of Owen, here he is now, weaving quickly in between the tables before sneaking behind Scott and Shelby’s, plopping himself down on the chair next to the gorgon. “Ready to science?” he grins, stretching and grinning at the other two.
“I need to talk to Shelby for a sec, but after that, yeah, duh,” Scott smirks back at his best friend, though he knows Owen will be listening in the whole time.
“What about?” Shubble leans in close, as if Scott’s telling her some big secret. And he supposes he is to an extent, though really, it’s nothing huge.
“Xornoth, my father, a dream I had, just a ton of shit.” Scott leans down onto the table, just Shelby’s concerned face already easing him a little bit out of the breakdown mindset.
“Oh, no- not Xornoth. What was ze doing now?” Shubble has had eir own experiences with the tiefling, and Scott knows that her distaste for zir is just as great as his own, if not even more pronounced.
“...trying to touch my snakes,” Scott confesses, his insides twisting into an anxious knot just remembering zir calloused hands rubbing roughly against his head.
Owen and Shelby’s reactions are immediate and identical. They both swing their heads towards Scott, their faces shocked and seemingly disgusted, yelling, “What?!”
“Quiet down back there!” the teacher, Mx Leiverman, yells from the front of the class.
Scott’s friends ignore them, Owen still staring, horrified, at Scott, and Shelby jumping down from her chair to stand on the table directly in front of him, glaring down at him, eir eyes angry and scared.
Owen speaks first. “Scott, that’s… not an okay thing for zir to do.”
“No, it most certainly is not! Why didn’t you text me?” Shubble chimes in, waving her arms in the air. “I could have helped! You could have had a breakdown! Honestly, I’m surprised you’re not completely catatonic right now- I know how much you hate unwanted touch, and from Xornoth? That’s, like, twelve times worse!”
“I didn’t want to bother you guys,” Scott reasons. He should have known they’d react like this, should have known they’d take it as such a huge deal. “It’s not really all that bad. I’m fine.” He’s not.
“I don’t believe that for even a second.” Shelby’s continuing to yell at him, pointing accusingly at his head. “If something like that ever happens to you again, I want you to tell me right away. Understood? That is disgusting.” Scott’s disgusting. “I can’t believe anyone would ever do anything like that- but if anyone was going to, it would be Xornoth, wouldn’t it-”
“Shelby, please quiet down!” Mx Leiverman sounds annoyed now, and Scott gestures to Shelby for em to climb back into eir seat. She shakes her head defiantly, anger and worry bubbling up behind eir eyes.
“Jesus, Shubble, it’s really not that big of a deal.” Scott’s struggling to keep acting this nonchalant, doesn’t really know why he’s keeping up the charade, really, but he doesn’t want to worry his friends. Even though Shelby’s the therapist of the group, and he’s been planning to tell her all this since it happened, Scott can’t seem to allow himself to open up. Shubble really seems to care, and he can see her blowing up even further, opening eir mouth, no doubt to argue.
“Yes it is,” Owen says so quietly, it’s almost a whisper, “That’s a legitimate legal offense. You could probably sue Xornoth for that, and I mean this genuinely.” He enunciates the last word, each syllable coming out crisp and clear.
“But I’m not going to, because it’s no big deal!” Scott’s getting frustrated now. He should have known they’d take it like this, should have known they’d get this angry. Well… no, that’s not completely true. He should have expected Shubble to act like this. Owen? Not so much. He’s just full of surprises this morning, it seems.
“Well, if you don’t want to talk about it or press charges, we aren’t going to force you,” Owen sighs. “Right, Shelby?” He glares at her, clearly signaling to em to drop it. Owen’s known Scott long enough now to know when he won’t crack, and even if he’s certain that Owen agrees wholeheartedly with Shelby, he at least knows when to let sleeping dogs lie.
“...Sure.” Ey seems slightly embarrassed, and she climbs off the table, returning to eir chair. “But Scott, if you ever change your mind about this, tell me. If you ever want to bring this to the attention of school authority, please let me know.”
“Yep, absolutely,” Scott mutters, more to ease the gnome’s worry than to actually agree. He knows he won’t, if only because it’ll make him even easier to pick on than he is now, but he also knows how it’d be such a sign of weakness, how disappointed his father would be, because Scott’s so horrendous already, he doesn’t need to add coward to the long list of things wrong with him.
“Good.” Shelby’s relieved; he can tell by the way eir shoulders relax, the way her eyes lose the intense ferocity they had harbored not seconds ago.
Owen catches Scott’s eye, nodding slightly. “Seriously, though.” Scott feels a sudden pang of affection for his friends, because though they’re being annoying as hell, he does need to hear this from time to time, hear that they care for him, hear that what he’s going through is real.
“Thanks, Shubble. Thanks, Owen.” He offers each of them a smile, sinking slightly at the edges but more genuine than any expression he’s made in a while. 
Before Scott’s friends can respond with more than a rueful shake of the head and a small grin from Owen, Mx Leiverman is clapping from the front of the room, a loud, harsh sound that signals that they have an announcement to make.
“Attention, please! Hey! That means you, Pearl, listen up!” While Mx Leiverman is trying to get the attention of the class, Scott notices that there’s a person, leaning up against the wall behind the teacher’s desk, their arms crossed tightly across their chest, bright yellow wings peeking out from behind them.
It’s the new kid, it has to be, there’s no one else it could be. Grian’s a parrot, he has mostly red, patterned wings, and Bek’s an owl. They’re the only two avians in school, and even on the small off-chance that one of those two would be in this room for whatever reason, they look nothing like the one standing stiffly at the front of the class.
Shelby’s noticed him too, and ey peeks over at Scott, her eyes inquisitive. “Is that the kid Joel was talking about?”
“I guess so,” Scott whispers, being very careful that the new boy can’t hear them. “Owen, did you see those texts?”
“Yeah,” Owen mutters, looking everywhere but the avian stood in the corner, glancing back at him every few seconds. “Timmy, right?”
“I guess we’ll find out,” Scott answers, before Shubble shoots them a “stop talking” look, and all three direct their attention to the front of the room, where the teacher has finally gotten the class under control.
“Alright, everyone,” Mx Leiverman calls out, exerting their voice so it carries across the whole room. “As many of you may know, this-” they gesture to the avian- “is our new student, Jimmy. Would you like to introduce yourself to the class, Jim?”
Jimmy. So that’s his name- Joel had been wrong about that bit, at least. Scott can’t help but take note of his ruffled blonde hair, short and scruffy, tucked behind his ear with a pink, flower-patterned hair clip, his standard knee-length skirt showing thin, bird-like legs. He’s quite short, his height even less impressive than Scott’s five foot seven stature, and this is what causes Scott to come to a startling realization: Jimmy can be no one else but the person he’s just bumped into in the hallway; if only he’d known.
“Um. Hey, I’m Jimmy?” The statement comes out inquisitive, making it sound like the avian is questioning his own name. Mx Leiverman gestures for him to elaborate, and Scott can see Jimmy sinking into his wings as they twitch. He’s evidently trying very hard not to wrap them around himself. 
When he doesn’t continue, their teacher takes it upon themself to prompt him into speaking. “And where did you move from, Jimmy?”
Jimmy’s eyes have gone wide, and he looks like he’s struggling not to curl into a ball on the floor. “I-I moved from the… from a city a couple miles south.” Scott furrows his brow. This had obviously not been what Jimmy was originally going to say, and he’s obviously distressed. Scott feels for the guy, hopes for his sake that Mx Leiverman stops asking questions. It’s obviously making him very uncomfortable, and Scott’s been in similar situations before. It’s never fun.
“...What was the city called?” Mx Leiverman asks, prodding for more information.  Scott almost facepalms, because any idiot can see how much the avian’s struggling right now, how much he wishes he could get out of the spotlight.
“Um, it was called…Jimmyville?” The class is working hard to hide their snickers, especially Joey, sitting alone at a table near the front of the class.
“Uh huh. Sure. What’s it really called, Jimmy?” Mx Leiverman is not amused, their nails beginning to drum a simple rhythm on their opposite arm.
“Can I go sit down now?” Jimmy doesn’t look like he’ll be answering any more questions. He’s staring determinedly down at his feet, as if not looking at all the people in the room will make them go away, will make them stop looking at him. His feathers ruffle, shaking slightly before laying back down into a more subdued pattern.
He’s kind of cute.
In the way all avians are cute, of course.
“Sure,” Mx Leiverman sighs, rubbing their temples and scanning the room, their gaze glancing over all the tables before landing on Scott and his friends. “I think you’d fit right in at that table in the back, Jimmy.”
He grabs his textbooks and walks over, still staring daggers at the floor, his wings pressed close against his body, prickling up in something that Scott assumes is either anxiety or embarrassment- though given Jimmy’s interrogation, he wouldn’t be surprised if it was a combination of both.
Shelby smiles at the canary as he trips towards them and scoots himself into the seat between her and Scott. “Hi, Jimmy!”
“Hey,” Jimmy mutters, attempting to smile and failing utterly. Shubble seems to have a good idea of what’s up, though, and ey leaves him be, though not before offering half of her granola bar, which Jimmy accepts gratefully.
Over the course of the introduction to class, Mx Leiverman drones on and on about what they’re going to be doing today, what obvious experiment will be conducted. Scott opens and closes his mouth several times, trying to find sentences that he can use to speak to the avian. 
But Jimmy’s head is still ducked close to the table, his wings hanging loosely off the back of the chair, and Scott can’t seem to come up with words that sound genuinely friendly, and not weird or awkward. It doesn’t help that every time he tries, his insides feel like they’ve just been dropped off the high end of a cliff.
What is happening?
Scott turns his head away from Jimmy, staring intensely at the instructions on the board, determined to look anywhere other than Owen, who’s flashing him looks. Scott does not need to feel more confused than he does right now, and he can feel a bout of self-hate beginning to push in, disgust at how he’s feeling.
He hasn’t even spoken a word to this short bird boy, and already he can’t control himself. All Scott wants to be is normal, to be a full gorgon, to have the right feelings, to be the way men are supposed to be.
Scott glances behind him, and is suddenly aware of a huge mass of bright yellow feathers extending from Jimmy’s back. He’s stretching; his wings spread out to their full extent, eyes closed and arms stuck into the air. He does a little shake and his wings retract, folding back into their unassuming shape.
“You have a really large wingspan for your height,” Scott notices, not realizing until too late that he’s spoken aloud.
“Oh, yeah, I guess so,” Jimmy answers, looking surprisedly at the gorgon.
Well, Scott can’t let the conversation drop now. Plus, he has questions. “I’ve never really known an avian before, do you mind if I ask you some questions? Oh, I’m Scott, by the way.” Scott supposes he should at least introduce himself if he’s going to be this kinda guy.
“Well, I’m not exactly the best person to ask about that kind of thing…” Jimmy rubs the back of his neck self-consciously, grey-blue eyes looking to the side.
“I don’t mind,” Scott says quickly, and perhaps a bit too earnestly. He can hear the excited edge in his voice, and worries that he’s startled the canary. But instead of seeming weirded out, Jimmy laughs, a melodious, bird-like noise, clear and high-pitched.
“Well, I suppose so, then- only if I can ask you about being a gorgon, though. Back where I’m from, I only knew one. Her name was Nellie and she was ke- she lived on the other side of the city. I didn’t know gorgons could be cyan, tell me about that?”
Scott can feel the hairs on the back of his neck prickling up, discomfort coursing through his veins. “Um…normally, we can’t? I’m a hybrid, though, my mother’s a siren.”
“Huh, that’s interesting. I didn’t know hybrids between species were even a thing.” Jimmy’s picking at his feathers as they talk, never quite looking Scott in the eye, which he appreciates. Eye contact is something Scott’s never been a fan of, as it reminds him of his father, and he’s very relieved that Jimmy doesn’t seem to particularly enjoy it either, making the conversation a lot more comfortable for the both of them.
“Yeah, some species can crossbreed, some can’t. Apparently, a siren and a gorgon are close enough genetically that it works out.” Scott shrugs, trying to be nonchalant when really he’s warding off a breakdown. “I mean, if they weren’t, I wouldn’t be here, would I.”
“I guess not,” Jimmy agrees. “So, wait- can you still turn people to stone?”
“No.” Scott doesn’t elaborate, the question has already sent off too many alarm bells in his head, stupid defective fake disgusting wrong-
Scott realizes that Owen’s back, turned away from him and Jimmy, tensed at the avian’s last question. He’s been eavesdropping- again- and he knows it’s a topic Scott’s sensitive about. He feels a sudden burst of affection for his best friend.
“Sorry-” Jimmy starts, clearly having picked up on Scott’s anxiety.
“It’s fine,” he reassures the avian, “It’s just… kind of personal, you know?” Jimmy nods vigorously, his hair clip starting to fall out. Scott has to resist the urge to reach over and tuck it back in.
Owen’s back relaxes, and Scott feels quite proud of the way he handled such a sensitive subject as well. “So, about being an avian- can you fly?” Now it’s Jimmy’s turn to look uncomfortable, and Scott knows he’s overstepped, though he doesn’t know how.
“...kind of,” Jimmy answers, his posture somehow more rigid than before. “I was a little late learning, though- I’m not the best at flying.”
“Huh. I’m a gorgon who can’t petrify, you’re an avian who has trouble flying. Looks like we’re both de-” Scott stops himself from saying defective, reminding himself that though it’s true for him, other people often get defensive or weirded out when he calls himself that. “I guess we’re both kind of in the same boat,” he corrects himself.
“Yeah,” Jimmy agrees, offering a small, quivering smile that causes a shiver to run down Scott’s spine. “Yeah, I guess we kind of are.”
The conversation kind of dwindles after that, Scott not really knowing what to say, but kind of feeling like there’s not much more that needs to be said, at least right now. Mx Leiverman has finally finished the instructions for what they’re doing in class today, and Scott realizes that he’s been so caught up in his conversation, and even after it was finished, just thinking about what was said and Jimmy and other things, but mostly Jimmy.
“Shelby, do you know what we’re doing for class?” he half-whispers, leaning behind the canary to get a clear view of the gnome.
“You need to listen better,” she hisses, throwing him a glare that he knows by now is fake. 
“Fine, I’ll ask Owen, then,” Scott challenges. Shubble rolls eir eyes, barely concealing a smile.
“Ask me what? And why are we whispering?” Suddenly Owen is there, out of his seat, head leaning in between Scott and Shelby. 
“Oh, hello- I was just wondering what we’re doing, I didn’t catch what Mx Leiverman said,” Scott explains to his best friend. They’re all still crowded around right behind Jimmy, and Scott imagines it must be quite awkward for him- surrounded by people who you don’t know, who aren’t talking to you or about you. Scott’s been in similar situations before and it’s not a particularly nice feeling, so he leans back into his seat, gesturing for Shubble and Owen to do the same.
“Jimmy, did you hear what Leiverman said?” Scott asks, turning to the avian.
“No, I was talking to you, remember?” 
Of course he was! Scott feels quite silly, and mutters a half-agreement before feeling Owen tap him on the shoulder and gesture to the corner. Scott raises an eyebrow before following, reassuring Shelby that they’ll be back in a second.
“So, what do you think of Jimmy?” Owen always feints around the questions he really wants to ask, and never says anything without a reason. Scott can tell he’s up to something, but he also knows that Owen’s trying to get more information out of him first, and he’ll never find out what about until Owen wants him to.
“He’s fine, he seems like a nice kid? I don’t know, I’ve known him just as long as you have- cut to the chase, Owen, what are you on about now?”
“Whatever could you be talking about,” Owen smirks, picking lint off the dark red sweater he always seems to be wearing, even times like now when he’s supposed to be donned in only the school uniform.
“You know full well what I’m talking about, what do you want from me?” Scott’s quite fed up with Owen's little guessing games at this point, because though at times they can be quite endearing, other times, like this, they’re just really bothersome. 
Owen widens his eyes innocently, barely hiding his trademark grin. “I couldn’t possibly know what you’re referring to, Scott Smajor.”
“Come on, Owen, give it up. Why are you asking me about Jimmy?” Scott swears he can see the avian’s ear feathers peak up at the mention of his name. Owen shushes him loudly, having obviously seen it too.
“Fine, but don’t get mad. You have a crush on him, don’t you.” 
Scott’s eyes widen at the tiefling’s statement, and he shakes his head vigorously. “No, no, no, no. And even if I did, you know I’m not supposed to like guys, I just haven’t found the right girl yet- I can’t be gay, do you understand how disgusting that would make me? Even worse than I am now, even more of a horrific person-” He’s shaking, hyperventilating, almost, because he hates talking about this, he hates bringing it up, he hates when Owen brings it up, because it’s bad to even think about and Scott hates himself-
“Scott! Stop it with this shit. You’re just as gay as I am bi,” Owen glares at him, momentarily snapping him out of his bubble of anxiety. “Just because you’re in denial and live with an abusive family-” he doesn’t, and he’s not in denial- “does not mean you get the right to be homophobic or self-deprecating.”
“And plus,” Scott adds, ignoring Owen’s outburst because he can’t let himself believe he’s anything but the disgusting idiot he is, he just can’t, he doesn’t know who he’d be if he didn’t hate himself- “I’ve literally known this kid for five seconds. Even if I was gay, it’s not like I’m gonna suddenly fall in love with whatever random chap looks in my vague direction.”
“You’re changing the subject. Apologize.”
“Fine.” Scott rolls his eyes. “I’m sorry I don’t want to be even more revolting than I already am- I have it hard enough without having to think about… that.”
“That is not an apology. Being queer is not revolting. Do you think I’m revolting? What about Shelby? What about Jimmy, who’s pretty obviously gender non-conforming with his skirt and hair clip?” Owen gestures angrily towards their table, where Jimmy and Shubble seem to be getting on splendidly. “Do you think we’re revolting? ‘Cause I’ll remind you, the majority of your friends are not straight and/or cis.”
“I- no, I don’t think you’re revolting-” Scott’s on the defense now, backing up with his hands raised in surrender.
“Then what are you getting at?” Owen jabs him in the chest, hard, not the friendly pokes Scott’s used to, and he stumbles backwards, eyes wide. “Because you can’t really hate one queer person due to their gender or sexuality without hating all of us, even if that one queer person is yourself. Look, I get that you have a fucking hard time. I get it! But this does not give you the excuse to press your trauma on everyone else. Now properly apologize. Or else.”
Scott doesn’t know what to do, he can’t figure out how his own logic works, how he’s gross because he’s gay, but all his friends aren’t- his mind reels. But he does suppose he has to apologize. “...I’m sorry, Owen.” It’s almost too soft to hear, but Owen seems satisfied, folding Scott into an awkward hug for the second time that day. 
“It’s okay,” Owen reassures. “That’s what I’m here for- to correct you when you say the dumbest shit imaginable. Now come on, let’s go do a science experiment.”
Owen walks back to the table, Scott trailing slowly behind him. He doesn’t think his friends are disgusting, he really doesn’t, so then why does he feel like he is? Because no matter how many times he tries to take what Owen says to heart, he can’t, he just can’t. 
For a moment, just for a moment, Scott tries to let himself imagine what it would be like if he hadn’t grown up the way he had.
He thinks… he thinks it might have been nice.
52 notes · View notes
voidfxndoms · 2 months
Text
Morning Light // Sterek
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Stiles wakes up to see Derek still asleep. He thinks about kissing him, then refrains from doing so, thinking Derek is still sound asleep.
Warnings: none. Just the pure Sterek fluff we were robbed of in Teen Wolf.
W/C: 4,767
A/N: The first one shot is HERE! AND IT'S STEREK (ofc)! Unfortunately, I'm better at smut and angst than at fluff, but I hope this turned out at least okay. Enjoy, and let me know what you think! :)
✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚:
The morning light lazily made its way through the loft's big windows, tenderly kissing Stiles's figure. As soon as the dim rays of the rising sun lay on his face, he opened his amber eyes and let out an annoyed sigh.
He hated the loft's big windows. Well, not the windows per se. He hated that there were no curtains to cover them. He always felt observed, even though Derek's house was on the very top of the building. He also hated how bright the place would always be, no matter the time of day. Not to mention the unbearable heat that would lurk in the loft during those California summers. He had tried convincing Derek to get curtains, but he would always refuse, giving the same explanation every time Stiles would bring up the topic.
"I told you already Stiles, I am not getting curtains. This place is only temporary, I refuse to add anything to it.".
He really couldn't bring himself to understand how Derek could sleep so unbothered by the waterfall of sunlight that was now invading the room.
As he lay in the big bed situated right next to the infamous big windows, slowly coming to terms with the fact that there was no way he would be falling asleep again, a grin stretched out on Stiles's face. He realized how long this "temporary place" was being temporary for.
Derek had been living there for years now, and there were no signs of intention of him wanting to move out.
He turned around to face Derek, slowly. He knew the black-haired was still asleep, and Stiles didn't want to wake him. Not yet.
Stiles didn't think that Derek didn't want to decorate the place because it was supposed to be temporary, but because he didn't want to get attached to it. So that when the moment came, leaving would be easier. He'd have one thing less to say goodbye to.
But Stiles also hoped that moment never came. He hoped and prayed for it not to come with every fiber of his being because he knew that it would be the death of him. It would be the death of them both.
Derek's body was relaxed, his arm still loosely looped around Stile's waist, but his face was tense. His face was always tense. Stiles wondered why. Even asleep, the werewolf's eyebrows were furrowed and his lips slightly pursed in a mixture of anger and disgust.
Stiles looked at him and at how his peculiar features were highlighted by the invasive yet delicate rays of sunshine that had now spread out across the entire loft, making sure to take them all in, to take mental pictures of every single detail that made Derek, Derek.
"Such a sourwolf.", the young man lightly chuckled, amused by the ever-annoyed expression that lay on his boyfriend's face.
Slowly leaning forward to kiss him lightly, Stiles stopped abruptly. Was he actually his boyfriend? Were they dating? They had never made a point to talk about it, but the nights spent together, the lingering stares, the longing kisses, and the hours-long cuddling sessions all seemed to point in the same direction.
Nevertheless, the amber-eyed pulled back, driven by a gut feeling that he may be taking this one step too far, dreading any sort of rejection.
He was about to face the other way when he heard a low grunt. Derek opened his eyes and looked at Stiles. His kaleidoscope eyes shone even brighter, the sun unraveling shades of blue, green, and brown Stiles had never noticed before, leaving him mesmerized. Derek smiled, pulling Stiles back to reality.
"Well," the bulky man sighed, "If you're not gonna do it, I guess I'll just have to do it for you.". And before Stiles could process, Derek's grip tightened around Stiles's waist, pulling him closer. He leaned forward, closing what was left of the gap between the two, kissing the sheriff's son.
It wasn't a greedy kiss. It wasn't hungry, it didn't call for anything more.
It was light, it was delicate, it was tender. As tender as the morning light under which they lay together.
"I need to get curtains," Derek said, pulling away. "This is way too early of a time to be awake, especially after yesterday's eventful night.".
Both men chuckled, and Stiles caressed Derek's cheek.
"Don't.", he breathed.
"What do you mean 'don't'? You've been a pain in the ass about the curtains for the past year." Derek said, chuckling lightly.
"I know, but I like it better this way. I get to see details of you that cannot be seen without the morning sun."
Derek stared at him, and for a second Stiles thought he had crossed the line, and that this was the end of it. But Derek's lips on his were there to prove him wrong, and the following kiss was filled with an overwhelming amount of love.
"No curtains it is," Derek whispered, breaking the kiss before diving right back in.
And in that moment no words were needed for Stiles to understand that Derek wanted the same thing as him.
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triplesilverstar · 3 months
Text
Merlot, is always full bodied
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Rating: 18+ Minors DNI 
Pairing: Knives X F!Reader
CW: Dom/Sub undertones. P in V sex, wall sex, clothed sex, cream pie, rough sex
Word count: Roughly 1.9K
A/N: Chapter three of the series, where Nai feels a little possessive while you’re at work
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A brief respite while you were behind the bar, pushing your hand into your lower back to try and stretch it out. A cough from Francis had you turning to glance at him, seeing him red in the face. “What’s wrong Franie?” You deadpan rolling your shoulders forward before putting the stemware that had just come back from the kitchen away under the counter. 
“Ugh. When you stretch like that, it puts your assets out there a bit more” Great. Just what you need, to draw more attention to yourself while at work, at least it’s been a slow night. 
“Thanks for telling me. Just been really sore lately, I think I might need inserts for my shoes” without trying to make your discomfort too obvious you reach behind you to rub your fist into your lower back. Watching as one of the servers approaches the bar. 
“Table five, whiskey neat, gin and tonic, glass of the Australian merlot” as she finished you glance at the table she’d come from. Starting on the drinks and pretending you hadn’t met your boyfriends stare, shit. You have a feeling even if it hadn’t been intentional, he’s going to see this little moment as you flirting, and you’re going to be paying for it later. Drinks made you load the tray and move to hand it to her. “They asked if you would deliver it?”
“Did they now?” you keep your face neutral but let the scowl you wished you could show reflect in your tone. Generally bar tenders did not deliver drinks. Not unless it was beyond busy and certain deliveries were to be made, and there had been no code words in the orders. At least not any you had directions for, your packages for the night already delivered. She nods and you sigh, grabbing the tray and heading for the table. 
Approaching the table you put on a fake smile, as normal for your job even if you do enjoy mixing drinks you hate the fakeness required of Flux, but it’s needed to ensure the appearance of any high class club. “Good evening gentlemen” tone neutral as you look at the occupants of the table. Four men, and you know where the three drinks are going already. “I’m surprised you're not enjoying the pleasures of the VIP section.” A lie. Nights Nai doesn’t have direct business with Calla table five is his preferred table, and you aren’t sure if it’s because he likes watching you or the general 270 degree view of the club it has. 
Sliding the whiskey to Midvalley, who whispers a soft “thanks darlin” to you, the gin and tonic to the blue haired bastard, and last the glass of red wine to the broody looking man in the middle. Also known as one K. Saverem, or in this club as a VIP regular Mr. Millions, and to you, your boyfriend. Before you can say anything, the new male at the table that you’ve never seen speaks up. 
“Didn’t realize they made them as fine as you here sweetheart. What’s a man have to order to get a drink like you?” While you have certainly heard better and keep your face impassive the energy at the table shifts quickly. Midvalley coughing as his sip of whiskey went down the wrong pipe eyes wide. 
“Sorry sir, but this drink is not part of the menu” you answer customer service smile in place but voice neutral. “If there’s nothing else gentleman, I'll be on my way.” Starting to step away, from the corner of your eye you see him making a pass for your arm. 
“What time do you get off tonight? We could take this party elsewhere.” Before his hand reaches you, his wrist is grabbed by a cream clad arm. You don’t bother turning to see any of the looks on their faces. 
“Mr. Millions, you are aware of the rules.” In fact both of you are, and you have to think that this man must be an idiot. Anyone who associates with Knives is aware of his inclination towards you and anything they say or do can be judged harshly, and few are allowed to get away with it. It’s not something you take advantage of, and do your best to keep problems from arising because of it. While Legato has nothing but loathing for you, even he has ensured your physical wellbeing is looked after before. Midvalley is allowed his flirty words towards you since he works at Flux on occasion himself, has served as the body to cut off the rowdy customers that have tried to hit on you. And both you and Knives know the man has zero interest in you. This new fellow however? You fully expect to hear about an unknown body being found in a few weeks. 
Once back at the bar you ignore the table, the night having picked up somewhat and you were mixing drinks at a steady pace. You did however notice Midvalley taking the soon to be missing man, who appeared drunk out the main entrance, which meant Nai and Legato were still at the table. Which did not help the weight settling low in your stomach, at one point once it slowed down again Franie signaled for you to take a break and damn was your back starting to hurt again. 
Walking towards the staff bathroom you almost miss the presence behind you, almost. You know the sound of his footsteps no matter where you are, like a cat stalking his prey. Right now you wish you were in the mood for his antics but you aren’t, and the security of Flux and what it means to cause a scene here will do nothing to convince him not not to do something. Stepping past the door, it barely having begun to close before he’s hot on your heels “Mr. Saverem, this is the employee restroom. I'm afraid you’ve taken a wrong turn.”
You both take a moment for a quick glance around, before he’s turning and flicking the locking mechanism before he’s stalking towards you, that rush of fear you thought you’d long gotten used to flaring to life. “Nai, I swear I di-” You yelp, feeling his hands grip your hips turning you and beginning to push you against the wall until you pressed against the cool tiles, hand spayed out in against them. 
“Safe word if you don’t want this pet” he gives you a few moments to think about it pressing his body against yours. Taking a deep breath you think about it for a moment, and stay silent because even if it is against the rules, you always want Nai. “Pet?” 
“No marks” You feel an exhale against your neck before your body is pressed even harder against the tiles, a brief squeeze of one of your hands and you know the game is about to begin. Body suddenly pressed so tightly against the tiles you can hardly breath.  
“Do you enjoy showing me such disobedience pet?” his voice is a hiss in your ear and you shiver from the feel of his muscled figure up against your back. His hips press forward against your ass and you can feel how hard he is. Fuck, had he been hard since he followed you in? Or since the events at the table earlier. 
“I didn’t mean to be. My back was sore Nai, I didn’t re-” a quick jerk of his hips and his teeth sink into your earlobe, you don’t get a chance to scream before his hand is covering your mouth. 
“Aware or not, there are consequences for such actions” his voice has dropped an octave from its usual register. “I know Flux had rules, but I’m not letting this go unpunished pet” his hands leave your body, fingers pressing against the button of your dress pants quickly undoing them and drawing the zipper down. One wide hand is pushing the fabric down your legs along with your underwear, while you can’t see it you can hear his other hand undoing his own pants. “This will be quick, and I doubt you’ll enjoy it.” You have almost no warning after using his own feet to spread your legs, pressing up against you and forcing the head of his dick past your tight wet entrance. 
In all the times you’ve been with Nai, be it when he had you on your knees, tied up, or just fucking you at his leisure, he has never taken you without some kind of foreplay. “Even with no prep you’re wet and ready for me, all you want is my cock don’t you.” His voice is low in your ears and it makes your core throb, so possessive of you and it makes you even more wet, but you can still feel the drag of him inside you more pain then pleasure at the moment, a hiss leaving your lips. Like he can sense the difference he slows, still bottoming out in you before drawing back. 
A few strokes of his cock inside you, and your natural lubrication has increased enough for it to feel more like a glide. You don’t get to enjoy it however as Nai sets a feverish pace you’d never be able to match, rough in how he handles you. There’s none of Nai’s usual style in this coupling, it’s clear his only intent is to use your body to cum, his hands keeping a tight grip on your hips while he fucks into you tight heat. Breath harsh against your ear his panting echoing around the room “I’m going to cum in you pet, and you’re going to spend the rest of the night feeling my seed inside you.” One hand raises to press against the side of your neck, the only hint of tenderness he’s shown you so far tonight. “You are not allowed to finish. Or clean yourself up. I will be checking later when I take you again later, if you follow my suggestions I'll let you cum till your heart's content.” 
You hear the hitch in his voice near the end, a few more hard thrusts and you feel him freeze, warmth flooding your core. The briefest touch of his lips to the side of your neck while he breathes deep, settling his heart rate. You whimper when he pulls from you, surprised when he reaches for your pants and underwear pulling them up. Not as surprised when he turns you so he can watch as the thin fabric covers your slit and starts to dampen from his release beginning to slowly trickle down your legs. “Now, clean me up pet before you’re missed.” While your core is sore, you won’t risk any hint of disobedience and start to lick him clean, balanced on the balls of your feet so there aren't prints against your knees. 
As you finish you feel him plant his hand against the top of your head “give me a kiss ” you know he won’t abide by a kiss to his face, your lipstick visible. Fuck neither would Calla, and you know if she gets wind of this it will be out of your hide. Breathing through your nose you open your jaw as far as it will go and take his softening length down your throat, lips pressing his base. “Good girl” pulling away you look at him as you stand. An almost perfect imprint of your lips around his cock and you know the top of his balls. 
He slips out of the bathroom first, allowing you the chance to freshen up and reapply your makeup, a cool look of indifference if someone else entered the washroom now. The rest of the night passes in a blur, except for the feeling of his cum both inside, and slowly spilling out of you. 
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@mcyt-yuri-week Day 2: AU
This work is explicit! Read on AO3 here.
Meet me down by the river, Bring the pumpkin seeds, the autumn stone, Meet me down by the river, Bring the cherry flowers, the breath of spring, Meet me down by the river, Bring summer’s fire, winter’s wet cold, Meet me down by the river, Bring your candlelight, and your voice to sing.
Gem sang softly to herself as she approached the designated place, candlelight flickering across her face from where she held the slowly melting wax in one hand, big baskets slung over her shoulder of her other arm and flowers braided all throughout her hair.
At the river’s bank stood Lizzie, pumpkins growing hilter skilter all around her, her massive pumpkin-turned-house behind her and nestled in the big, broad leaves. Gem once again felt a pang of jealousy: she could never grow pumpkins that big. But Lizzie had been doing this witch stuff a bit longer than Gem, and every witch had her strengths and weaknesses—er, opportunities for growth!
In this case literally.
“Gem!” Lizzie greeted, her plain blue robe fastened loosely around the waist, nothing but that and her hat and her cheerful attitude adorning her.
“See, you were smart. You just built on the river. You don’t have to hike ten billion miles.”
Lizzie chuckled, gathering her hair behind her before letting it fall loose. Not much point trying to put it up now, since she’d just be letting it back down in a minute anyway.
“But if you didn’t live up on the mountainside, who’d bring me the flowers?” she asked with a grin and grabby hands, and Gem giggled as she handed ‘em over. Beautiful pink blossoms, collected by the hundred.
Gem stretched her arms above her head, hardly sore from carrying the baskets of flowers but happy to hold her arms at something other than a ninety degree angle for the first time in a few hours. Lizzie got to work scattering the blossoms amongst the candles circling the campfire. Above the campfire, low flames and lower heat, hung the “stewpot,” a hollowed out pumpkin with potatoes and wild hare simmering inside (and knowing Lizzie, it had been simmering for hours already). Gem set her own candle amongst the other lights, scattered some flowers of her own until there was a “walkpath” of pink and green encircling the inner candles, but encircled by the outer. Gem nudged one of the candles in the outer ring, wanting it just a touch further from the blossoms they spread out.
“Alright!” Lizzie said, hands on her hips and feet stanced wide, proudly surveying the area. “That about does it, I think! Ready for dinner?”
“Just us tonight?” Gem asked. Usually they had at least a couple guests, novice witches or curious friends wanting to see if the rumors were true themselves.
“Just us! I might’ve made too much stew, now that you mention it.”
“Eh, anything leftover’ll soak into the ashes afterwards,” Gem waved off, taking a seat at the edge of the fire and using half of the “lid” of the stewpot to ladle out some stew and bring it to her lips. Lizzie took the other half and did the same, the two enjoying companionable silence and anticipation together. The potatoes and hare were really just to have something in their bellies before the event started, they weren’t important the way the pumpkin was important.
Lizzie finished first, and waited for Gem to have her fill—but not too full—before the pair stood, stretching lightly. The final dregs of dusk finally slipped away, casting them all in the cold blanketing darkness of night, but the candles were numerous enough that neither worried about mobs. Not that mobs tended to get too close, anyway, when such magics were stirring.
“Well come on then,” Lizzie urged, tugging loose the cloth belt around her waist and letting her blue robe drop to the cool earth, fall’s breeze prickling her skin.
“Excuse you! Not all of us can just wander out here from across our front yard! I had to dress for mountain climbing you know,” Gem said, peeling off her own layers. Her bare toes curled against the cool grass and flower petals, goosebumps breaking out with each layer she removed. She’d appreciate the cold in a minute, but right now forcing the layers off was nearly unbearable.
“I could help?” Lizzie offered with a waggling of eyebrows and a cat’s grin, and Gem stuck her tongue out.
“You’ll help me plenty later,” she said as she undid her pants and yanked both sturdy denim and lacy underwear down and off her. She kicked her pantleg off her ankle with a huff, then entered the candlelight opposite Lizzie, the campfire crackling lazily between them, flower petals soft beneath her feet.
”Meet me down by the river…” Gem started, her voice hitting high, clear notes. Around them, Autumn brushed against their skins, the hairs on their arms and the backs of their necks prickling.
Lizzie’s voice joined with Gem’s, and the two started walking clockwise along the floral path, taking their time to start. Against their ears, both could hear the far off giggling of Spring.
The fire, untouched by human hands, began to rise, no additional kindling added but its flames burning higher and hotter, so that the pumpkin in its middle was obscured. Cold pressed in like hands against a window pane, outside the outer candles’ ring, but did not seep in any farther into the fire’s glow.
The first song finished, then the fun really began.
They forfeited walking, and began to dance.
Naked and wild, they danced, and they sang, Gem’s red hair blazing in the firelight, Lizzie’s pale skin gleaming in the moon. Gem’s voice was louder, but Lizzie’s less prone to stumbling over half-forgotten words, carrying when Gem’s memory faltered.
They both began to sweat, despite Autumn’s presence, dancing and twirling and stomping and waving their arms about wildly, no drumbeat except their feet upon the earth, no strings except the chords of their voices. Wild, bold, joyous, the witches sang and danced under the full moon and like water into a skein they felt the magic join them, enter them. Wild as the hare they caught and ate, wild as the seasons in their capricious natures, wild as the moon that loved the ocean and the sun that loved the moon, wild as magic had always been, would always be.
Gem felt it pool inside her, cold as ice water but not chilling her. Hot as a match but not burning. It glinted and glistened and ran and laughed and sang with them. Oh, how the magic sings. Voiceless and louder than thunder, the magic eclipsed the mortal voices of the witches that summoned it hither, and Gem never could tell at this point in the dance if her mouth was open because she was still singing or because that was necessary for how hard she was breathing.
Half-mindless with euphoria and adrenaline, the dance turned into a chase. Still wild, still rhythmic, still singing, Gem and Lizzie now lept like springing deer, pursuing one another as animals in flight.
Lizzie was smaller, and dexterous, but Gem was a historically sore loser, with physical aptitude to match. Lizzie tried to chase, at first, and then attempted to outrun, but her lithe little legs were no match for Gem on a hunt, and soon her freckled arms tangled around pale skin, rushing her so the two collapsed onto the ground. A rush of petals exploded around them at the force of their descent, and Gem grinned, eyes half-glazed over with the song and dance and base instincts of the hunt. Lizzie giggled up, perhaps even more moon-drunk than Gem, and Gem bent to lay claim to her prize.
Lizzie moaned into her mouth, arching up off the pretty pink petals, her pretty pink hair splayed out, messy and askew, upon the blooms. Gem caressed her body with the wild fervor of a witch in dance, and Lizzie gave as good as she got, tangling fingers in wild red hair and hiking her spread legs up over Gem’s thighs and hips.
The punishment of ‘losing’ the chase was, of course, that Lizzie was forced to lay there and take it as Gem sank her mouth to Lizzie’s lower lips and sucked like a drowned man gasping for air. That Gem won the hunt and so could touch and grope and surge and act while Lizzie was subjected to her whims. The punishment for ‘winning’ was, of course, that even as Gem squeezed palmfuls of soft flesh and thrust her tongue into her folds, Gem’s own cunt hung wet and dripping and exposed and untouched.
Well, until she was finished with Lizzie, at least, the witch’s howls of pleasure crescendoing in the magic as a wolf’s to the moon. Gem gave her shaking body not a moment of reprieve, crawling up with little pink petals sticking to her sweat damp skin. The moment she was able, she lowered herself to Lizzie’s panting mouth, fingers parting her own folds, orange bush wiry against her too-sensitive skin. Everything was too much, right then, magic pooled in her and the song resounding in her skull, but neither was it enough.
Lizzie took to her task enthusiastically, Gem gasping and rocking her hips down on her face. Lizzie’s arms came up to grasp around Gem’s thighs, and Gem switched to burying her fingers in pink hair, wild with abandon and careless of Lizzie’s comfort. This far into the lust-blind haze of magic and adrenaline, neither would feel it if either of them even was in any pain. Even moon-drunk, Lizzie knew how to use her tongue, and it wasn’t long before Gem was wailing and gasping as well, back arched in the candlelight and silver of the moon.
As her paroxysm crashed over her, so too did the magic reach its climax within her. She could feel it imbuing her, not just filling her but permeating her every inch, from the dips of her ankles up the lengths of her legs, to the peaks of her nipples and the flush in her cheeks. All throughout her the magic sank, and only then, with both their bodies fully penetrated, did the song finally reach its end.
Gem and Lizzie collapsed limply into the flower petals, breathing raggedly and neither able to focus their gazes. Gem fumbled blindly outwards, her hand reaching Lizzie’s by sheer luck, and the two clasped as their bodies desperately sucked in air.
Awareness returned slowly. The candles were all burned low, wax melted off whatever shallow dishes they were set in, or sometimes just flowing out directly into the grass. The fire was once again low and flickering. Gem was naked and sweaty and cold.
She groaned. She sat up slowly, feeling out her muscles carefully. Didn’t seem like she’d pulled anything.
“Lizzie, get up or I’m gonna eat the whole thing myself,” she muttered, stretching slowly from side to side, shivering now that she was aware of it.
Lizzie gave a groan of her own. “Not if I get there first you won’t.”
The two staggered to their feet like fumbling fawns and descended upon what remained of the stewpot, its outside blackened and charred to a crisp from the ritual but the insides soft and gooey and perfect. They ate with their hands, shoveling soft pumpkin and leftover stew into their mouths with a fevered hunger that lingered from the dance, each heedless of how it smeared around their mouths and cheeks and noses, each up to their elbows in pumpkin guts and blackened ash.
Only once the pumpkin was entirely demolished did their senses return to them, genuinely in full.
“Okay, I know it’s traditional to wash off in the river, but it is too cold for that! Lizzie, I’m stealing your shower first.”
“It’s my shower!” she whined.
“Well I won, so there!”
Cleaned up and redressed, the two collapsed into Lizzie’s bed together, exhaustion hitting them along with the late hour.
“Mhnmhng, that should… probably last us a few months, don’t you think?” Gem mumbled as they laid together in the dark.
“Maybe. I kind of have some things I want to try out that are heavy on the magic cost, so I might need to insist on doing it again next full moon.”
“You’re runnin’ me through the wringer here Lizzie,” Gem deadpanned, earning a small giggle from her companion.
“Oh, you love it.”
Gem huffed, and in lieu of answering merely snuggled Lizzie closer.
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c2-eh · 1 year
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this only exists because of nic and chubbs and because of what they said in the server couple weeks ago... so i would like to thank them, because i love them a lot and this was nice to do, considering i still have writers block... also this has been done for quite some time, but i was scared to post it lol. it's probably the biggest bs i've ever written without any plot
charlos; ficlet. basically sillyfic. 900 words. T. enjoy <3
Charles adjusted the helmet on his head better, so it wouldn’t dig into his skull. It was his racing helmet he usually used on race weeks, unless he had a special one. They didn’t really have a time to think of something different and significant for this situation, as they wanted to be up to date and answer to the irrelevant and stupid tweets as soon as possible.
„Are you ready? Try to hold the camera up, so you’re fully visible at first and then I will take it away from you,“ Silvia said and lifted Charles‘ arm higher. He has to film himself with back camera, so it’s more convenient for Silvia to take the phone afterwards, which is impractical and stupid. Charles was grumbling because of it for whole 10 minutes and Carlos had to kiss him to stop.
„Copy,“ Charles‘ voice is muffled under the red-white helmet and his voice sounds way too jittery.
Carlos can tell he’s nervous. His visor is still up, so Carlos is able to see his bright eyes moving hastily from phone he’s holding, to the floor and then back up to him.
Carlos smiles at him, just a small twitch of his lips.
He is amused by the whole situation and he wasn’t expecting to lay cards on the table about his relationship like that, but one should never underestimate Ferrari social management‘s unhingedness.
The comments on social medias – mostly Twitter, to be honest – are bit too much lately and PR management decided to take things into their own hands. No one knows how it’s gonna play out, but they are willing to take risks. If not on the track, then at least in the PR area.
„Don’t be so nervous,“ Carlos comes closer to Charles.
With the helmet on, he appears taller, than he really is. Carlos puts his hands on his shoulders, smile present on his face as he looks into Charles‘ eyes. The shadow makes them darker than they really are, but Carlos knows those eyes incredibly well. He could wake up in the middle of the night and recite the essays about the deep green-blue eyes, with central heterochromia, that makes them so beautiful and caledioscope like.
„I’m not,“ Charles lies.
Carlos chuckles and stands on his tippy toes to kiss the top of Charles‘ helmet. Charles‘ arm, that was still stretched out in front of him, fell on Carlos‘ shoulder as he did so.
„If you say so,“ he replies and moves away, to let him finally shoot the video.
Silvia corrects his hand once again with a sigh, presses play from the other side and steps away, but only by millimeters, „hello, Ferrari admin here. I think it’s finally time to reveal my identity. It’s been too long since I’ve been undercover and I am sure, every single tifosi is curious, who is the person behind all this.“
It’s clearly noticable who the voice belongs to, but it’s not like this video is supposed to be serious. Not in the slightest.
Charles is not even the admin, because how could he be? He barely manages his own social medias.
It takes all of Carlos‘ willpower not to laugh, when Charles struggles to pass the phone to Silvia. The camera is shaky and it takes a moment for Silvia to right the angle. This is their 5th attempt and Carlos wants to be done with it, even though his job is to do nothing, only to show his face at the end. Basically, he is willingly looking at his boyfriend making weirdo out of himself.
They are answering to the hate comment, made by someone who claims to be a fan, where they claim that even if Ferrari admin posts Carlos, they “won’t fuck him“. Or her. They don’t really know the gender of the admin.
Charles takes the helmet off his head, his ringed fingers already screaming who it is. If his characteristic voice wasn’t enough. His hair are messy from the movement and his cheeks are red from the helmet pressing to them.
Bright smile is occuyping his face as he says, „and to react to your tweet. Actually, he is,“ Charles smiles and blows the kiss to the camera. He motions for Carlos to step closer to him and Carlos does.
Silvia is looking at them fondly, while holding the phone in front of her face, capturing the moment. Charles smiles at Carlos and then stucks out his cheek for Carlos to kiss. He leans closer and plants the kiss there, with a smacking sound, because Carlos doesn’t really know how to be serious in front of cameras.
Charles face is split with the biggest smile and he turns his head to catch Carlos‘ lips in his own. At first he gives him a light peck, which makes Carlos smile widely against his lips.
They can hear a click of the iphone camera, meaning Silvia ended the video.
„We’re done. It’s gonna be up in an hour. Deal with people you want to know about this in advance,“ she says and leaves the room, with other people at her tail.
„That went well,“ Carlos puts his arms around Charles‘ waist, bringing him closer.
„Yeah,“ Charles giggles and walks him back to the red couch in the corner of the room, little further away from them, „now, are we gonna do what the comment said?“
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devilscastle69 · 1 year
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Candle (bn///ha, hotw///ings 18+ nsfw)
crossposting
On Hawks’ table sits a candle, its wick burning blue and curling into a pool of wax. The air is made thick from the large quantity of smoke the small flame has managed to produce. Hawks silently thanks his past self for removing the batteries from his smoke detector after the last few Dabi-related incidents. He watches the flame flicker and change shapes in front of him, swelling and stretching like it’s dancing. Until today, this had been buried in a gift basket and hadn’t seen the light of day. It’s not like he usually has time to sit and enjoy such a frivolous thing. 
“Oi, is it helping at all?” Dabi asks flatly, snapping Hawks out of his trance. 
Hawks takes a tentative breath in through his nose and wafts in some of the smoke. Immediately, his nostrils which are already red and raw flare with new irritation. 
“EHDtzzshh!” 
“ Bless.”
Hawks nods. His cold has progressed to the stage where it’s made his sneezes extra harsh and vocal. Normally he’d be done after stifling a sneeze or two, but the tickle is absolutely relentless—not to mention the sinus pressure he’s sporting from the aforementioned stifling—and it feels like no amount of sneezing will relieve it. For whatever reason, NyQuil just isn’t enough to knock Hawks out, whether from his metabolism or something else, he truly doesn’t know and after already suffering through one sleepless night, he’s willing to try anything. He’d already tried breathing in steam, and now they’re going with Dabi’s next suggestion to relieve some of the pressure and congestion. Hawks didn’t have anything with menthol, but he did have a stress relief candle made with eucalyptus and spearmint. 
  Hawks can barely get a full breath in before he explodes into a series of messy sneezes, hastily aimed away from Dabi. “hHKnxxt! Ihxxshhhx! Eh- … KSSHsh! Umb…if the goal was to mbake mbe sdeeze, I guess.” He sniffles behind his sleeve and sighs before wiping the glistening underside of his nose with it. “Don't sniff it back,” Dabi scolds, passing the tissue box over to him. He leans back, crosses his arms, and looks away. “Just blow your fucking nose.”
Hawks snatches a few tissues and immediately folds them over his nose just in time to catch another sneeze. And another. And a few in rapid succession that leave him gasping for breath. Through it all, Dabi subtly watches with interest. Each sneeze sounds more irritated and desperate than the last and they leave him reaching for another tissue. His sleeve can only take so much. Dabi counts eleven sneezes collectively before deciding he’s probably done. 
“Bless you, pretty bird,” Dabi says, sighing and moving his chair to sit closer to Hawks. “You alright there?”
“ Hehh…ehh-Ehhht’schu! Guhh…yeah,” he manages to say. He blows his streaming nose again into a new tissue, the sound gurgling and wet. “Guess it heh -helped a lidttle.” 
“Least you got it all out,” Dabi says with a nod. 
“Mmb, thingk I can kindda breathe ndow.” He sniffles tentatively, accidentally flooding his poor nose with more of the strong scent, but it’s too late now to correct his mistake. Hawks steals one last quavering inhale before the inevitable need to sneeze overtakes him. “ Heh-!! Ihpshhhu! hehhshhhyu! Hghtshhew! Ahh… fugk I can’dt— hHght’shhx! KXxxtsh!”
Dabi smirks and pushes the candle in front of Hawks so it’s just inches from his chest. “Here, blow it out,” he challenges wryly, leaning an elbow on the table to get a better angle to observe. Hawks shoots him a wavering glare, but doesn’t have time to give Dabi shit for his teasing before—
“ Heh’EhDTSHhiew!” he sneezes openly over the flame, instantly snuffing it out with the force of it along with the spray dousing it. ” In its wake, smoke fills the space in front of them, expanding out into thick and beautiful tendrils of an even stronger scent. 
“Bless you, sneezy bird. You done now?”
They both know he’s not, and it earns Dabi another glare. Dabi allows himself to smile at the prize of that watery and pitiful look of aggravation across Hawks’ face, both from his nose’s betrayal and at Dabi’s teasing. They both listen as the cadence of Hawks’ labored breathing changes until he pinch-stifles a sneeze with his sleeve as a buffer. Dabi swats his arm away from his face. 
“Don’t get fucking self conscious on me. You’re gonna get all stuffed up again and bitch that it hurts.”
“Wai hht , you’re— ihGKShhu!” 
Dabi did this to himself. He looks at the spray on his shirt and back at Hawks’ face, pink with feverish flush, the thick rope of mess that’d escaped from the sneeze, hastily wiped away by Hawks’ poor sleeve. Still, Dabi manages to maintain the cocky look. After all, he himself can’t blush. “Bless. That’s better.”
“Really? I just… hehh… ugh fugk whatever,” he says with a sigh, rubbing at his nose with another tissue. He cringes at the squelchy sound that follows, along with the sore and tickly feeling. A tear leaks out of his eye and down his cheek and he hastily wipes it away. He gives a self-deprecating smile and adds, “God, sorry this is so gross. I thingk I’mb allergic to thadt candle.”
“Oh really?” Dabi snorts, ignoring the apology. “The fuck brought you to that conclusion?”
“ HhgSCHhiew! Guhh…”
Dabi openly snickers at him. Cruel, but not surprising. 
“I’ll rembember this whend you catch this fromb mbe,” Hawks threatens with a pout, pulling yet another tissue from the box to sneeze into directly. Dabi’s enjoyment of this whole display goes beyond sadism. Truly, he didn’t know lighting the candle would have such…explosive effects, but he’s living for it all the same. Even the implication that he’d catch this from Hawks is doing things to him. 
“Not really intimidating when I can barely understand what you’re saying.”
“Rude.”
“Whattya expect, pretty bird?” Dabi says, stroking one of Hawks’ wings. The plumes are soft against his hand and are a far cry from the weapons he knows they can become at will. Though, truth be told, Dabi can think of a way they can be used as weapons in this state too, but that revelation is for a different day. 
Hawks lets out a soft chirp-like sound and as he moves closer to Dabi, he makes contact with something particularly hard. All it takes is a quick glance down from Hawks to see just how much Dabi is enjoying his predicament. “Oh? ehg’SHhhiew! Ugh…Seembs like you’re really indto this.”
Dabi’s lips curl into a smirk. “Don’t know what you mean.”
“What about this is doi’gg idt for you? Mbe bei’gg a mb- hhh… a mbess, or is it the huhh… the— hdt’CHhhiew!…oh .” Hawks sniffles and smirks at the way Dabi’s cock twitched at the sneeze. “I see why you stucgk arou’dd.”
“Someone’s a cocky little chicken,” Dabi glowers, pressing Hawks’ hand over his erection all the same, guiding it up and down so he can feel its length and the way it’s straining against the fabric of his pants. Hawks smirks at him with a silent joke that Dabi’s sure he’s about to voice. 
“That’s just a rooster, hodt stuff.”
There it is. Hawks’ nose is starting to scrunch again and Dabi pinches Hawks’ nostrils shut in response. Some of the hot mess that’s refused to be dispelled seeps from his nostrils and Hawks’ eyes go wide. “Wai- hhdt…KNXXt’chh! NdXXT’…guhhh.”
Dabi hums in pleasure as Hawks’ hand jerks over his pants. “Bless.” He graciously removes his hand from Hawks’ poor nose and cleans his palm with a tissue. 
It’s moments like this where Hawks is grateful for his ability to read people. It’s a lot less mortifying now that he knows Dabi likes it. “If you’re gonnda mbake a mbess of mbe,” Hawks says and pauses to sniffle thickly, “I’ll have to returnd the favor.”
“Oh?”
Hawks moves to straddle Dabi’s lap before he can ask anything further. Dabi, more than happy with this development, puts his hands on Hawks’ hips to steady him. Hawks smiles darkly. “You ligke it whend I sndeeze?” he asks, voice husky against his ear. 
“And if I do?”
“Fugk arou’dd a’dd find out,” Hawks says, grinding against Dabi’s dick. He sniffles again and again, rocking over his erection. Dabi’s fingers latch onto his waistband, pulling him in closer. The friction feels so good and Dabi clenches his jaw to keep from outright moaning, though he can’t help the way he tightens his grip. 
“Sure you’re up for this?” Dabi hisses. 
“Can’dt you feel thadt I amb?” Hawks says with a smirk, putting Dabi’s hand over his own erection to confirm it. 
Dabi hums. “Guess so.” At this rate he absolutely is going to become a mess. His cock is dripping and pre has already left a substantial wet spot on his boxers, and at this rate it won’t be long before they’re absolutely ruined with cum. The situation is only worsened by the way Hawks continues audibly sniffling and hitching. Here he thought he’d be in control, but Hawks who has such a terrible cold has him hanging onto each and every breath. “You…y’want to take this to the bedroom?”
“I wandt you right here a’dd ndow,” Hawks murmurs in his ear. 
“Fuck, birdie.”
Hawks revels in each swear and grunt that crosses Dabi’s lips as they continue this little dance. He wants to keep up this steady rhythm for a bit longer, but his nose has other plans. 
“ Hehh… Thingk I’mb hh-hhH gonnda…snd -sndeeze—IhhtSCHhiew!” he announces before sneezing against Dabi’s neck. Dabi moans as they continue to grind, Hawks’ own cock now especially hard and pressing against Dabi’s. “Wonder how lo’gg you’ll last.”
Dabi grips the base of Hawks’ wings and elicits a moan from him. He grins widely at how sensitive Hawks is there. He’s made Hawks cum from exclusively playing with his wings in the past. “What about you, birdie?” 
Hawks smirks. “I’ll slow downd just for you.” His grinding, however, speeds up. Dabi grunts, breaths becoming more heavy and are only interrupted by a hurried string of curses. Hawks slams his mouth against Dabi’s and kisses him hotly until he needs to breathe. The lapse is compensated for by the way their tongues mingle again. 
Hawks grabs Dabi’s hair and tugs and Dabi moans and burns Hawks’ side with a fingertip. With a hiss, Hawks grits his teeth into a grin. “You likge this, Dabi?” he purrs, nuzzling and sniffling against his ear. In response, Dabi moans. “Guess I’ll tagke that as a yes.”
“Just…don’t stop,” Dabi grunts. 
Hawks hums. “I m- hhh… I bight have to sdheeze-hhH— “
The sound that comes out of Dabi’s mouth is one Hawks has never heard before, but it’s one that he knows is a plea. He may as well be begging for it. Begging for a release both from Hawks and from himself. The heat only continues to grow in Dabi’s groin as they both get closer and closer and—
“ Hh’Esshhu! IhhdtSHhoo! Hahh…”
“ Fuck, Hawks!” Dabi jerks into Hawks and climaxes, the hot cum pooling in and seeping through the layers of clothes. His grip on Hawks’ wing tightens and Hawks gasps, only for another sneeze to explode out of him. Blissed out, Dabi strokes Hawks’ cock over his pants more than ready to return the favor even in this hazy state. It won’t take much. 
Hawks sniffles thickly and moans, his head tilting back and giving Dabi a clear view of how swollen and puffy his nostrils have gotten. Dabi kisses down Hawks’ neck bites at the juncture to his shoulder. “I… ndhh …fugk, I’mb gonnda cumb!”
As quickly as he’d gotten it out, Hawks climaxes, adding his own orgasm to the mess between them. He collapses into Dabi’s arms panting, both of their outfits an absolute mess, but neither of them caring. Dabi presses a warm kiss to Hawks’ forehead and his fingers stroke through his hair. “Feeling good, birdie?”
Hawks gives a tacit nod, lolling his head against Dabi’s shoulder. Dabi huffs softly and pulls a few tissues to wipe Hawks’ nose with and to encourage him to blow. Sheepishly, he complies until he has to sneeze again, pitching into the tissue Dabi’s holding. “ Ihhkshh!” 
“Bless you.”
“Thagks,” Hawks murmurs. Dabi gives his nose a final swipe. After a few moments, Hawks fully curls into him. Dabi takes this opportunity to stroke his hair. 
“Never seen you so quiet,” Dabi mumbles after a few moments of silence. It’s only then that he realizes that somehow Hawks has managed to fall asleep like this, straddling him on a kitchen chair, both of them a mess. He’s snoring softly, sleeping for the first time in nearly two days. “You’re fucking kidding me.” Dabi sighs, though he can’t bring himself to really be mad. Fuck, maybe they should’ve gone to the bedroom first. Or maybe they should’ve just tried sex as a decongestant in the first place. 
Regardless, Dabi figures the least he can do for that performance is to help clean them both up so the hero can get some rest, so, attempting to ignore the sticky mess between them, he lifts him into his arms to bring him to the bedroom and silently thanks whoever the fuck gave that candle to Hawks.
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secretsolarsystem · 10 months
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A SADIE POST ??? ON MY DASH ???? how about drunk au or pen pal au or anything u fuckin want cus i will read it 🫶🫶🫶😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
HEHEHEHE HIIIIII MADISON <3 ILYSM FR U STAY ON MY MIND EVEN THOUGH I'VE BEEN GONE FOR 8 MILLION YEARS FR 🫶
the way I haven't been able to write a single word in MONTHS without immediately deleting it. and I just cranked this out. the power of Madison fr.
nooooo spoilers but I have a pen pal au outlined that I wanna write for the holidaysssssss AHHH so pls enjoy this drunk au <3
1.9k, modern au, changed their ages so Anakin’s 18 and Obi-Wan’s 21, under-age drunkeness, I’ll say dub-con just incase since Anakin isn’t sober but not much happens really everyone's okay, kindaaaa mature but again. not much happens really, Obi-Wan’s going through it typical college student style. it gets a little moree angsty than I intended at the end??? but this story has a happy ending in MY mind but do with it what you will <3
Can I Chrom ove
Shit
Can I come coer
Over. Pbi
Obi waaaaann
Obiiiiii wannnn can I comdvr PLEAEE
The string of texts gave the sense that Obi-Wan was taking hours, even minutes to respond. But checking the time stamps, they’d all been sent in the span of a minute. All of them had been sent at 1:38 in the morning.
Obi-Wan had already been awake, working on a grueling essay that he’d finally had a flow on and didn’t want to lose, sleep be damned, so he had the honor of watching these texts as they came in. The first one made him frown, not so much thrown off by the misspelling, but more so by the capitalization. Anakin never capitalized properly when he texted. (It was a point of contention for them that Obi-Wan did, and that he used proper punctuation.
“Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong? What’s wrong? You can just tell me, you know. I thought we were closer than that.”
“Anakin, what in the world are you talking about?”
“Your text. Do you not want to go anymore? Is it because you’re mad at me?”
“I’m so confused, Anakin. Did I not say that meeting at the theater at three sounded, and I quote, ‘good’?”
“Obi-Wan, you said, and I fucking quote, smart ass, ‘Sounds good.’ You wrote ‘sounds good’ with a capital S and a period at the end.”
“…Right. Yes.”
“Obi-Wan, you see why I thought you hated me, right? You see it? Right?”
The conversation went on for a few more minutes, and during the trailers, and during dinner after the movie…)
So, once he saw ‘Can I come coer,’ Obi-Wan knew Anakin was drunk. He watched all the other texts come in, and his smile grew as they did. He didn’t know if his name – at least what he was assuming was supposed to be his name – spelled as ‘Pbi’ or the desperate ‘PLEAEE’ was his favorite, but just to be sure they were forever preserved, Obi-Wan took a quick screenshot.
Just as he was about to respond, Obi-Wan saw the typing bubble pop up from Anakin and waited to see what he would add, when a loud thud came from his window. Obi-Wan’s head whipped around so fast that if adrenaline hadn’t immediately spiked through his body he would probably feel a fierce twinge in his neck.
A moment later, though, he slumped back into his desk chair with a heavy sigh and an annoyed shake of his head when he saw Anakin on the other side of the window, head pressed against the glass and dark blue eyes looking in, searching for Obi-Wan. Since Obi-Wan still had lights on, Anakin was probably looking mostly at his own reflection, but his drunken mind didn’t care.
Obi-Wan walked over and tapped the window, feeling slightly bad about having to scare Anakin, but Anakin had just scared the shit out of him and it got him to take his head off the window, so he only felt slightly kind of sort of bad about it.
He opened the window, and greeted Anakin’s slurred, “Obi-Waaaaaan!” with a shush and out-stretched hands. “Come on, come inside,” he said, helping Anakin’s long limbs climb in through the window. When Anakin finally made it in, despite Obi-Wan’s help, he fell into a heap on Obi-Wan’s floor, squealing while Obi-Wan cursed. “Why didn’t you just knock on the door, Anakin?”
“B’cus,” Anakin said, accepting Obi-Wan’s help to right himself, sitting on the floor now with his back against the wall under the window. “Gotta sneak. Mom’ll kill me.”
Obi-Wan sighed, shaking his head, though now he wore a fond smile. He could never be mad at Anakin for long. They’d known each other for four years now, ever since Anakin was a high school freshman and Obi-Wan had been a junior, and they’d surely fought during all those years, but the anger never lasted for long – if it was ever there to begin with. If he took the time to really consider it, Obi-Wan couldn’t remember a time that he was actually mad at Anakin.
(Maybe that one time he dated that girl from their school’s student government, but Obi-Wan never took the time to really consider that. That was over and done, anyways.)
“Your mom’s not here though. Were you trying to go home?” Obi-Wan asked. His essay flow left the second Anakin thunked his head against his window, so Obi-Wan figured he could take Anakin home and just go to bed.
“No,” Anakin said emphatically, looking at Obi-Wan as though he’d just asked Anakin if wanted to go sky diving into an active volcano. “She’ll kill me, Obi. I gotta stay here. Can I stay here? Please, Obi, she’ll kill me, kill me ’til I’m, like…dead.”
Obi-Wan smiled again, both at Anakin’s rambling and the memory of his ‘PLEAEE’ text. “Of course you can. Let’s get you up on the bed.”
Anakin sighed with unfathomable relief, even as he groaned at Obi-Wan moving him up and off the floor. Once he sat heavily onto the mattress, Anakin immediately fell back onto the pillows with another happy sigh.
“Thank you, Obi. The best. Obi the best, you’re the best. M’sorry I woke you up,” Anakin said, sinking into Obi-Wan’s pillows.
Obi-Wan walked over to his desk, saving and closing his essay and shutting his laptop. “I was already up, don’t worry about it,” Obi-Wan assured, turning off his desk lamp and walking back over to sit on the edge of his bed.
Although it was a struggle, Anakin propped himself up, frowning at Obi-Wan. “Why? S’late. You talkin’ to someone, Obi? Someone pretty?” he interrogated, though it was hard to take seriously, considering how he struggled not to sway back into the pillows and to keep his face looking serious.
Obi-Wan laughed. “Oh yeah, talking to all the hot authorities on the history of banned literature,” Obi-Wan said, wiggling his eyebrows. He knew in Anakin’s drunken state he’d miss the fact that Obi-Wan was referring his research paper, so he moved on. “Why are you here right now, Anakin? Have you been drinking with someone pretty?” He ignored the ugly feeling he got in his stomach at his own joke, and maintained his smile.
Anakin huffed out a breath of air and stopped himself from falling back again. “Graduation,” was the explanation Anakin gave. Obi-Wan understood, though, of course. While Obi-Wan was scrambling to finish his assignments and be done with his junior year of college, Anakin and his friends were getting ready for their high school graduation coming up. Obi-Wan couldn’t wait to watch Anakin walk across that stage, his bright smile beaming and surely putting on a show for his friends in the crowd. At Obi-Wan’s own high school graduation, Anakin whooped and hollered so loud during Obi-Wan’s entire walk Obi-Wan couldn’t help but smile and shake his head at him in the stands. Obi-Wan probably wouldn’t be quite as loud, but he couldn’t wait to cheer on Anakin.
It was bittersweet, though, because Anakin was going out of state for college. Even if he’d gone to Obi-Wan’s university, they’d only have a year together, but even then they could hang out after Obi-Wan graduated. Now, it was going to be at least four years until they’d see each other again outside of holidays – that is, if Anakin decided to come back home after he graduated, and that was anything but guaranteed.
Obi-Wan didn’t know how Shmi was handling it; Obi-Wan was a wreck. But he only let his genuine pride and excitement show, because he’d never forgive himself if Anakin let such an amazing opportunity slip away because his friend Obi-Wan was sad.
“Are all of you excited?” Obi-Wan asked, and was surprised when Anakin struggled to push himself up and forward to press into Obi-Wan’s side, his head dropping heavily to Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Anakin?”
“M’nervous,” Anakin mumbled into Obi-Wan’s shirt. “Gonna be so far. From home. Mom. You.” Anakin lifted his head to say the last word, so it was breathed right onto Obi-Wan’s neck. “Gonna miss you, Obi. Came here ‘cause I knew you’d take care of me. Always take care of me,” Anakin rambled on, running a hand across Obi-Wan’s stomach to hold him in a loose hug.
“You’re gonna be fine, Anakin,” Obi-Wan made himself say, heart and mind racing at Anakin’s words and touch. Of course Obi-Wan had always felt so strongly for Anakin – of course he did. Anakin was smart and funny and brave and beautiful. Of course Obi-Wan loved him, but they were best friends. Always just Anakin and Obi-Wan. And Obi-Wan told himself he was content with that, because it let him keep Anakin and let let him be kept by Anakin, in some sense.
“But who’s gonna take care of me, Obi-Wan?” Anakin breathed against Obi-Wan’s skin. He was somehow closer now, so each word brushed his lips against the skin of Obi-Wan’s neck. He trailed his hand down before Obi-Wan’s brain could comprehend what was going on, and was suddenly palming Obi-Wan’s cock, which Obi-Wan realized just in that moment that he was half hard. Obi-Wan sucked in a breath, and Anakin’s movements continued, rubbing Obi-Wan’s cock, both of them feeling it get harder and harder in his jeans.
“Who’s gonna take care of you?” Anakin panted, craning his neck to press a sloppy kiss to the corner of Obi-Wan’s mouth. Obi-Wan turned his head towards him without thinking, just acting purely though shock, turning to look at him with big eyes and question on his lips, but Anakin was quick to lick it away and try to kiss him again.
“Anakin, you’re drunk,” Obi-Wan said, breathless, every single nerve alight and every single muscle tense.
“Mhm,” Anakin agreed, his kiss doing nothing but making Obi-Wan’s face wet.
“So we have to stop,” Obi-Wan tried.
“Nooooo,” Anakin whined, not stoping any of his actions, speaking right up against Obi-Wan’s face. “Just…Oh! Get drunk! Yeah, get drunk, Obi, so you can kiss me.”
Anakin’s fingers moved to the button of Obi-Wan’s jeans, fumbling there as he continued to press his lips to Obi-Wan’s in an attempt of a kiss. Obi-Wan’s hand finally came up to grab Anakin’s to stop him; he’d been dying for this to happen, but this was all wrong. It wasn’t anything like Obi-Wan had hoped, like he’d imagined, and he didn’t want this to be ruined for either of them.
He grabbed Anakin’s hand, and it stopped, easily. He turned his head away, and Anakin let him, easily. And Obi-Wan waited for Anakin to sit back and do something – laugh, cry, yell, ramble, shrug, vomit, anything – but Anakin simply slumped his entire weight into Obi-Wan. A ball of pure anxiety now, Obi-Wan waited without even breathing, and heard as soft snores started coming from Anakin.
Obi-Wan couldn’t even help it; he laughed. Anakin had just – just, what, confessed? And then kissed Obi-Wan and groped Obi-Wan’s hard dick, and then proceeded to fall asleep on top of Obi-Wan, his head on his shoulder and his hand still on his crotch.
Shaking his head out of fondness and incredulity, Obi-Wan moved Anakin to lay down on the bed, and he went, easily. He fell back onto the pillows and kept snoring, his sleep anything but disturbed. Obi-Wan took a moment to look at Anakin, to appreciate the way his lashes laid on his alcohol-flushed cheeks and the part of his lips and his curls falling around him like a halo.
Obi-Wan took this in, smiled, and went back to his desk. He opened up his laptop, opening his essay. His flow was still gone, but he needed to do something, anything except think about what the fuck had just happened.
from this prompt list prompted fic collection on ao3
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