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#in my hc it’s noticeable like a stuck in ur throat feeling
short666bread · 10 months
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esophageal cross section of nut crossing the floo barrier
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love-bitesx · 10 months
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im word vomiting my headcanon list and id love to hear what you think!
*hobie gifting things that he finds to his partner like a crow. i can imagine they'd just randomly turn up, either on a desk or like they'll just find it in their bag or pocket, or that he'd just walk of and just hand it to them with no word *hobie fell for his partner hard, though he kept it pretty well hidden from everyone except pav starts calling his 'loverboy', eventually the nickname catches on to the point his future partner starts using it as well(either b/c they like it and thay're oblivious or they know exactly whats going on and are teasing him about it) *loves playful banter *nicknames for daaaaaays with his partner *hobie getting serious with a partner would be him gifting them something important, first thoughts are either a guitar pick of his or one of his favorite rings (its the most worn one he has, a simple metal one that you can literally feel the love thats gone into it. somehow it fits his partners finger perfectly)

i may be back with more, until then i salute you!
i agree with ur hc’s so much!! this is how i hc & tend to write hobie so, 100%! pls don’t hesitate if u think of anymore hehe
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i’d love to expand! ~
- giving you gifts, to him, is like the ideal expression of love.
- because basically all of them are stolen, it’s a combination of his favourite things; stealing from big corporations, and seeing the beaming, heart-warming smile on your face when you open your bag and see a tiny trinket wrapped in newspaper.
- everytime you would come home, you’d find a new little addition to the house somewhere – notably: necklaces, rings, tiny ceramic statues or wooden decorations, pens, music (cd’s, vinyls, etc.) – especially if he’s been to camden market that day, his pockets would be full for you.
- when he started to fall for you, he low-key thought he was coming down with the flu.
- whenever you were around, his heart would flutter, his head dizzy and palms sweating – he considered getting medicine, until pavitr pointed something out.
- “how are you, loverboy?”
- “eh? you talking to me, pav?”
- “of course, hobie! little loverboy”
- “did you hit your head, bro?”
- pavitr would explain that he’d noticed hobie’s eyes glued to you whenever you spoke, hanging onto every word like gospel, and the way he flustered when you touched him, how he’d do anything in his power to be in your personal space.
- “shit.”
- “no! this is a good thing, my friend! love is the most bea—”
- “shit.”
- days went past of hobie avoiding you, he’d never been in love before, and it was scary to him
- his brain was only thinking of you, and he hated that he liked it. he hated that he wished for every thought to be of you.
- and he hated that he could see your body deflate when he avoided you, hated that your eyes looked sad when he turned away
- he hated that he liked loving you
- until, you caught him on his own one day, he was minding his business, relaxing on his lonesome whilst the others hung out in different dimensions.
- “hey, loverboy”
- a deer in headlights wouldn’t even come close to the shock on his face
- “loverboy?”
- loverboy? you were calling him loverboy?
- “yeah, loverboy, that’s you, isn’t it?”
- in all fairness, you were completely oblivious to the reason behind it – pav had simply just started calling him it when hobie wasn’t around, and it stuck
- “i-i guess so”
- clearing his throat, he willed his confidence back to the surface
- “you can call me anything you want, sweetheart”
- it wasn’t long before you were together, a gentle, but spontaneous kiss after a particularly dangerous mission one day sealing the deal between you both
- he was obsessed with you
- now he could be obvious about his feelings, he took that and ran with it
- his arm was essentially glued to your side, or over your shoulders, or anywhere where he could pull you in close to him
- he’d grab you by the belt buckles, dragging you towards him and welcoming you with a soft peck on the lips
- even in public, almost especially in public
- always have his hands in your back pockets, he says he hates the cliché-ness of it but he likes that he can hold you close whilst respecting your personal space – and he can feel your ass, but he doesn’t admit that outloud
- THE NICKNAMES.
- THE. NICKNAMES.
- this man is born and bred british, and over here we use nicknames more than actual names
- darling, sweetheart, love, lovely, all of those AND more are natural to him, anyway
- but he adds a special little “my” before them all now, now that you actually are his, and so “my darling”, “my love”, etc. are like a second name to you
- in bed, the nicknames would be even better, but i’ll leave that to your imagination…
- when things started getting a little serious, you’d been dating for months, all your friends and colleagues knew about him, your family as well (if you decide to tell them)
- you’re relaxing in hobie’s dimension, laying on his bed with your head on his shoulder, reading a book whilst he strums at his guitar softly. he’s humming a song you don’t recognise, but the sound of his deep melody was enough to lull you.
- “hey, love?”
- you hum in response
- “i wanna give you something.”
- sitting you up, he’d lay his guitar down and face you, grabbing your hand and bringing it to him
- “what are you—”
- he’d fiddle with his own hands for a second, before twisting his favourite ring off his index finger
- “here.”
- “hobie, are you—”
- “i’m not proposing, don’t worry. weddings are just a social nuisance that give us one more way to control each other. no. this is better.”
- you tilt your head and watch him, as he slides his ring onto your middle finger
- “it’s just a promise.”
- “a promise?”
- “a promise that i love you, and that i’m yours, innit.”
- “oh, hobie.”
- you cry a tiny bit
- and he hugs you tightly, kissing your forehead
- that’s when he knew it was serious with you, not only because of how he was so obsessed with you, and his heart melted at your touch, but because when he saw you with the ring on, his ring, his person, it just felt right. he didn’t ever wanna see you without it, or without him.
- “hey, hobie, did you mean what you said about marriage? you don’t wanna marry me one day?”
- “hey, i said i hate weddings. nothing about marriage. not if we do it our own way, you know?”
i love him so much. also pls stick around, couple of one shots & fics will be out this week!!! sorry they’re taking ages hehe
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grievedeeply · 9 months
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Recently I fell back into a GOW hyperfixstion and found your blog, now I am head-over-heels for Heimdall 😭 so I’d love some HC’s of his S/O finding him (alive 😅) after his fight with Kratos in Vanaheim!
ur just like me fr... i go in and out with god of war but i always manage to get back to where i started. obsessed with it. sorry if this is a bit short, i haven't written in awhile, but this is a great prompt!! thanks for requesting!
gn!reader | tws: blood, violence | JOIN MY TAGLIST!!!
heimdall's s/o finding him alive after his fight with kratos
heimdall is incredibly injured and fading in and out of consciousness for what feels like hours. was it nighttime when he fought kratos? had the sun come up yet? his mind is so loud he can barely hear himself think, but at the same time.. it's so silent
the forest is quiet around him. it's hard to breathe
it was clear his foe didn't intend to leave him alive. he remembered the look on his face as his hands wrapped around his neck, as he bashed his head into the ground over and over again
he tries to force himself to stand, at first.. but his legs give out from underneath him. he's stuck on vanaheim, and no one would be looking for him. not yet, at least
he was far too capable for anyone to look for him so soon. he was untouchable, he was powerful. now.. was he a failure? he could feel the absence of gjallarhorn on his hip. kratos had taken it, he was sure. it would be stupid of him not to
then, he thought of you. the only person who ever managed to see him as anything more than a soldier. you saw him for who he was, and it made him feel strange at first
but now, heimdall was grateful. he was grateful that you wouldn't be around to witness him die like this
you started your search for him much earlier than anyone else would've. when he didn't return to asgard with the others, you knew something was wrong
it didn't take you long to find him, following in the steps gulltoppr had made earlier
when you set your eyes on him.. you thought the worst. you didn't hesitate, rushing over to him. you knelt by his side, taking one of his hands in your own
then, his eyes opened. barely, but they were open. you breathed a sigh of relief but the feeling didn't last for very long. you had to get him back to asgard as quickly as possible before he bled out
he tried his best to walk, but the most he could do was move his feet along with yours. he tried so hard to make things easier for you.. but he could feel that he was dragging you down
he insisted you leave him behind
he hated to admit it, but he was scared. he was terrified of how his father would react when he saw gjallarhorn was gone. what would he do to him? would he kill him? he tried not to think about it, but he couldn't stop the thought of it from slipping into his mind
heimdall blacks out before he gets to asgard. you pull him along with you, hoping for a miracle
when you arrive, he's treated for his wounds. they're worse than you initially thought. you can tell when you see him in the light. his face is covered in bruises, bloody.. beaten. you hated seeing him like this
he was the strongest person you knew. what happened?
it takes him a while to wake up, much to his dismay. he needed to be back up on his feet as soon as possible to put a stop to kratos, to prove himself to the allfather—
you're right by his side when he wakes
you're wide awake. it's clear you had been crying, your cheeks tear stained as you stare down at the hand you'd been holding
when you notice he's awake, a warm smile forms on your lips. "how do you feel?" you ask him. he furrows his brow. would anyone else ask him that?
his throat is so... so sore. he lifts his free hand to his neck. it's badly bruised, the imprint of kratos's hands dug deeply into his skin
you don't make him answer. you know it'll take a bit of time for him to fully recover
heimdall realizes that his time is limited. for the first time in his entire life, he came face to face with death, and he hated it. he wanted to live, he had to live. if not for himself, for you
you spend so much time with him while he's recovering. you take care of him. it's more than what anyone else would've done
he counts himself as the luckiest man alive. having you until the end of time.. it's a blessing
tags: @danielle-marie @kise-kae @war-in-time @imagineadream @dijanur @mr-trick @frida-oydna @r-amenegg
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missmorosis · 3 years
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Jealous
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anonymous asked:
I’m BEGGING for a hc where zuko and sokka like the reader and get jealous of one another. Plot can be anything! :)))
anonymous asked:
oomgomg Hii u replied to me earlier 🥺👉🏽👈🏽 LOVE THAT YOU LOVE SOKKA!!! I love zuko too but sokka needs more appreciation imo.
Would u ever write an zuko and sokka x reader or oc where they both like the same person? Because I find myself conflicted between who I like more because they’re great for totally different reasons! Idkk but anyways looking forward to reading more of ur work!! And happy early valentines dayyyy 💕💕💕💕💕
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please this prompt makes my true beauty heart go 📈📈📈
ALSO THE TWO OF YOU BASICALLY HAD THE SAME REQUEST LSAKDJS
enjoyyy <33 THIS MAKES NO SENSE IM SORRY
Pairings: Sokka x Reader x Zuko
Warnings: fainting and sickness (sighh yes yes i wrote another sickfic IM OBSESSED) & it may be the worst thing ive ever written-
Summary: a sick y/n is caught up in a love triangle... which boy is better?
Word count: 1.4k :)
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The doorbell rang, and Y/N rushed to answer it. She opened the door to reveal a smiling Sokka. He was your best friend, so he normally showed up unannounced once in a while.
"Hey, Y/N!" he said.
"Hi, Sokka! What brings you here?"
"Knowing you, you probably haven't had dinner yet?" She nodded with a laugh. "Wanna get something to eat?"
It was past dinnertime, and she still wasn't hungry... In fact, the thought of food made her nauseous. Y/N nodded anyways, and Sokka smiled, getting his car keys out of his pocket.
Driving past the streets, the two blasted music out of the car's speakers, and Sokka sang along to all of the pop songs on the radio. Y/N laughed at the silly expression Sokka had on his face, even though the music was way too loud; it was honestly giving her a headache, but it was okay. She looked out the window to see Zuko, another close friend, heading out of the Jasmine Dragon. He must've just finished work...
"Oh, it's Zuko!" she chirped, giving him a wave. Sokka said nothing, his singing quieting down to silence, but he pulled over anyways to say hi. He parked his car, and the two hopped out.
“Y/N!” Zuko ran over with a huge grin on his face, waving his hand as a greeting. “Nice to see you again! Oh... hi Sokka.” Zuko’s cheerful smile slowly morphed into one of distaste when he noticed that she had been with Sokka.
“Hey, Zuko,” Sokka acknowledged. Y/N turned to see that Sokka’s face also fell when his eyes met Zuko’s. Sokka slung an unnecessary protective arm over her shoulders, and Y/N cleared her throat to clear up the growing tension. Shaking Sokka’s arm off, she opened her mouth to speak.
"Is it cold out here or is it just me?" Y/N blurted, causing Zuko and Sokka to look at each other worriedly. Sokka pulled off his jacket to throw it onto her. He zipped it up, and met her eyes.
"It's not cold at all... you feeling okay?" Y/N nodded slowly, signaling that she was okay, so Zuko and Sokka dropped the subject. She could have sworn it was chilly out.
"Anyways," Sokka continued, heading into his car, "wanna go grab dinner together or something?” The other two nodded, also following Sokka into the car. Y/N hopped into the passenger seat, and Zuko was stuck in the back seats. She could tell he wasn’t happy with her sitting next to Sokka, but she ignored it. They were just being plain childish, and it was giving her a headache.
“Oh, Y/N,” Sokka started. “I went to-”
"Sokka, go left," Zuko interuppted. Sokka sighed and turned the wheel, following through with Zuko’s command. 
As the car turned, it pushed Y/N to the side of the car, forcing her to lean on the car door. Deciding not to get up, she nuzzled closer to the car window, her warm breath fogging it up. She blinked, trying to stop the growing sleepiness clouding her head. 
Y/N heard Sokka ramble on about his day in the background, and her eyes closed for a second... just a second. She was just so... exhausted...
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"Hey... Y/N? Are you asleep?" Sokka's voice asked softly. He poked her side, making her slightly stir awake. She tried to lift her heavy eyelids. Wow, she felt so sluggish.
"What, is Sokka boring?" Zuko laughed, as Sokka gasped, offended. "I should have been the one driving next to her."
"Y/NNN- how could you fall asleep in the middle of my story?" Sokka shook Y/N awake with his free arm. "Come on, you can't leave me with Zuko."
"Hmm?" Y/N hummed quietly, letting them know she was awake. Her voice was raspy; she had a sore throat, but the boys seemed to wave it off as a symptom of sleepiness.
"Am I too boring for you?" Sokka asked.
"No, of course no-"
"So you're saying you'd be with Sokka rather than me?" Zuko accused.
"N-no-"
"So you'd rather be with Zuko?"
"What? You guys are arguing for no reason," she mumbled, but the two boys ignored her.
"Of course she'd rather be with me; she's just too nice to say that to your face," Sokka argued, his voice increasing in volume.
"No, then why would she fall asleep while you were talking? You're boring." Zuko's voice was also loud.
"Please stop," Y/N whispered, rubbing her temples, and this gesture didn’t go unnoticed. Sokka and Zuko froze at once, watching her with concern.
"You have a headache? Are you sick?" Sokka asked immediately. Y/N sighed and nodded.
"Is... that why you fell asleep- because you were sick?" Zuko added, and Y/N nodded again weakly, and sighed. Sokka reached out next to him and put his hand on her forehead.
"Y/N, you're burning up..." Sokka gasped.
"Let me see," Zuko mumbled, placing his hand on her forehead. He sighed. "Y/N, you feel really warm."
"I'm so sorry for waking you up- it would have been better for you to stay asleep," Sokka apologized.
"No, no. It's my fault." She shivered, pulling Sokka's jacket tighter. “If I knew I was sick, I shouldn’t have come with you guys.”
"Here, have my jacket, too." Zuko wrapped his jacket over her as well, draping it over her shoulders.
"She doesn't need more than one, Zuko," Sokka scoffed quietly. "Anyways, we can go home if you'd like?"
"Oh, no, don't worry about me! We can go get dinner or something, it's just a headache. It'll go away," she reassured them.
"I don't know..." Zuko said. "Maybe we can get something to eat at your house?" Sokka turned around, heading back towards Y/N's home.
"I agree, you need rest." Sokka looked at her in the mirror. "Sorry to break it to ya, but you don't look so good."
"Okay... if that's alright..." she said, and Sokka smiled.
Everyone arrived at Y/N's house, and Zuko helped you out.
"Shall we?" he asked, gently grabbing your hand.
"C'mon, Y/N," Sokka said, glaring at Zuko. He grabbed your other hand, and pulled you along.
"Y/N," Zuko muttered.
"Zuko, let go of her," Sokka said, warningly.
"Who do you think I am? I don't have to listen to you," Zuko snapped back.
"You guys are driving me insane, can't you both just shut up and get along?" Her voice now matched theirs in volume, and the two stopped arguing, looking apologetic.
Boy, were you lightheaded all of a sudden. She staggered on her feet, and she buried her face in her hands. Not now...
"What's wrong?" Sokka's voice immediately asked.
"Are... are we scaring you? We promise it's not going to get too serious..." Zuko sounded concerned. She could feel both of the boys' arms hovering around her body, trying to protect her, catch her if she fell, or give her reassurance.
"No, no..." she breathed. "I'm.. fine..." With that, she promptly passed out.
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Both boys rushed to be the one who caught Y/N. Zuko scooped her up into his arms, and he carried her into her room, leaving Sokka alone.
Zuko gently laid her down onto her bed, pulling the blanket over her. With a swift kiss that he was tempted to do all evening, he got up and headed out the door.
"Well..." he said, glancing at Sokka. The atmosphere was now awkward, and neither boy was going to leave for a while...
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Y/N woke up, and judging from her headache and how warm she felt, she wasn't any better. Groaning, she got out of bed, expecting to be alone, but she was wrong.
She opened her eyes to see two boys asleep on the couch. They had stayed...
Medicine was laid out for her on the counter, and she gladly took it.
"Y/N?" Zuko's voice croaked, making her jump.
"Oh, hey... I wasn't expecting you two to stay..." she said, and he rolled his eyes.
"Of course we stayed... you feeling better?" Concern was written all over his face.
"I still feel like trash..." she answered truthfully.
"Maybe I can kiss it better," Sokka said with a small, playful smile, now awake as well, and she laughed.
"Anyways, thank you both..." She gave a quick kiss on both of their foreheads, making both of them blush. "Now, get some rest at home... I'll be fine."
"No way, I'm staying," both said at the same time. Y/N sighed; there was no way of getting rid of them, and she loved them for that.
"Do you need anything?" Sokka asked, getting up to get her some water.
"Nah, I'm alright... we can watch a movie, though?" She flopped onto the couch, in between the two boys. She turned on the classic Meet the Robinsons and laid back.
Both boys rested their heads on her shoulders, and she laughed.
"You two are idiots, you're going to get sick." They shrugged, and she smiled.
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LMAOBDJJEEK OKAY WHOO IM TIRED BUT I WANTED TO GET SOMETHING OUT
this is totally unedited too IM SORRY
taglist (send an ask to get added!) @urmomoness @zuko-is-the-sun @busyforkuvira @appa-gaangnam-style @xxspqcebunsxx @akiris @welovediaaxx @ray-ofmoonlight @sokkaandzukosimp @u-4iia @sunnimochix @kaylove12
Zuko taglist: @duh-dobrik
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gyll-yee-haw · 4 years
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Hi babes 🥺 , So this my first time asking if u could, (If u want to) write a little Hc or whatever u want of Daddy Dom Jake trying to ask reader for cuddles or kisses because he needs some luvin but doesn’t know how to ask 🥺 I love your writing u are one of my favorites💞 and I hope ur having a good day :))
Hi, babesss! It's an honor to write something for you, you've been here for so long making my posts better with your reactions pics 😭❤
So... it got quite long. Like 2.5k words... but you deserve it. Hope you like it!
Warnings: some kind of friends with benefits/sugar daddy energy, daddy kink, commitment issues, mentions of toys, spitting, slaping, Jake being a sad boy :(
---
Let's say that you and Jake had a connection that was just too strong to ignore
But none of you were looking for something complicated at that moment of your lives
You could still have fun, though
Go on dates, laugh, dance, spend some money
And, of course.. if you wanted someone to fuck you hard, he was just the kind
So you started some kind of relationship that couldn't even be called friends with benefits, cause you weren't exactly friends
He would call you and tell you to be ready at 8pm and you better be
Then he would take you out
Some fancy restaurant or a night club
He would tell you what to wear cause he wanted to show you off
And you had him just that easy too
A pic in your new lingerie or nothing at all and he was already at your door step
I'm taking about fucking on club bathrooms
Touching in public
Motels
Cars
Or maybe at home, if you weren't in the mood to go out
But it wasn't some relaxing evening at home, like, watching a movie, ordering pizza and smiley make out sessions after a bottle of wine
It was all about him having you on a leash, literally
Down on all fours for him
Heavy degradation
"Beg for my cock, that's all I wanna hear from you, slut."
And he wasn't afraid to spent money on you. Every single night you went to his house there was something new for you. I'm obviously not talking about flowers or diamonds. I'm talking about lingerie for him to tear off. Toys. All kinds of toys… from vibrators to all sizes of plugs
He was so rough to you that he wouldn't even call you "babygirl", your name was slut. Babygirl is too sweet, he doesn't do that…
And if you dared calling him anything but "daddy", you were in trouble. Not even Jake. Only daddy. Didn't matter if you were in the bedroom or in front of other people. He would make you call him daddy in front of the waiter at a restaurant, for example
His life was definitely nothing but pleasure and power since you came along. Felt like a dream
But he was so miserable
He was miserable when he woke up alone
When he ate alone
When he listened to love songs on the radio
He was alone all the time. Even when he was surrounded by his family and friends
But he noticed it was different when you were around
When he saw your face, he felt some kind of warmth… not like warmth from the fire and the lust
Warmth as in... comfort. Like he forgot how much his life sucked when you weren't with him
And the minute you left, it was like you took all the light with you, all he could do was crawl into the darkness and wait until you came back
And while you didn't, he would think about you 24/7
Buy you new stuff and plan what he would do to you
Sometimes he wanted to call you and ask you to come over, but he wasn't horny at all and he would be absolutely incapable of getting hard, cause he was so fucking sad
Imagine how humiliating that would be, though? So he didn't call
He wouldn't admit he liked your presence. He acted like all he liked was your pussy and thats it
Something deep inside him was changing
He thought it was the sadness that was turning him soft
But it was obviously you
And you noticed there was something wrong on the day you were on his bed, had your ass up for him, and he flipped you over
It was weird. You had tried so many different positions, but he ALWAYS fucked you from behind
The closer to eye contact you got was when you sucked him off
Now there you were. Missionary position. Of course, his hand squeezing your throat at his movements were rough, but still… it was some new kind of intimacy. Your bodies were closer than ever and he kissed your lips 80% of the time
You thought about that night for so long. It was so good. So intense… and he couldn't get it off his mind either. The way he saw your eyes rolling back and you moaned loudly, because that was probably the best way to hit that special spot inside you... and he was facing you the whole time… he watched how desperate you were and how hard you were coming, clenching around him, legs shaking and he wanted to say something like "Shhh baby it's okay, I got you…"
Thank God he was able to hold himself back, huh?
Yeah, he kinda did. But that night changed everything
Maybe the next thing he bought you wasn't an anal plug, but a pretty dress
Like not an scandalous dress to show you off, but something he genuinely thought you would like, he wanted to see you smile
And he took you to the movies when you wore it for the first time
He kept his hands to himself during all movie, while you eagerly waited for something risky to happen in the dark
And then you walked out of the cinema
His hand holding yours
Walking around the city talking about the movie plot and not about your tits
You knew absolutely everything about each other's body, but definitely nothing about each other's soul
And that nice evening changed that. He told you a few things about himself, but nothing too personal. He was still extremely close. He liked to hear you talk, though. He listened very carefully. Asked questions. Laughed and felt a huge admiration during your stories
It had a real first date energy
Then he drove you home and didn't come inside
Both of you were confused. You spent the whole night trying to figure his new game out. And he just crawled deeper into his own darkness. If he wasn't sure that he was in love with you yet, after that date, he knew he was completely fucked
He planned on disappearing for a while. Only until he forgot about his feelings. Maybe see someone else
But the mere thought of being inside someone who wasn't you disgusted him
He managed to stay away for 2 weeks. No texts, no calls. You thought you had lost him. You tried to find a reason why he wasn't attracted to you anymore... He didn't have sex with you the last time cause he was only trying to say goodbye. But he was never that good with words
And at this very moment there was probably another woman in his bed
You were so angry that you didn't dare to call him
It was like you forgot how many times he spit on your face and overestimated you until you cried (not that those weren't great times too). All you remember was that one time he fucked you on a way that felt like he actually cared about you. Like he would make love to you one day. But that was only another one of his tricks to humiliate you. And it hurts more than when he used to spank you
You were convinced that you had enough. That if you saw him on the street one day, you wouldn't even look at his face
But the minute his name finally appeared on your phone again, you picked up eagerly
His voice was sweet. He called you by your actual name
He asked if he could pick you up
Not like he used to do: "You better be there"
He said "please"
And you were scared. You missed the times you knew exactly where this would end. When you would use each other's body, get dressed and leave. But now? You had no idea what he had in mind. Or what YOU had in mind when you said yes… but you said yes
And at the exact time he said he would be there, he was there
You got into the car and smiled at him
He looked like a complete mess. There was something wrong with him… for a moment you felt guilty for hating him when he stopped calling
Maybe he just had problems and wasn't in the mood for sex
Judging by the look on his face, he clearly wasn't. So what were you doing there? Another movie night?
Apparently not. He drove you to his house
He held your hand as you walked in and guided you to his bedroom
He stood in front of the bed and looked at you for a moment
"You're so beautiful, have I ever told you that?" He sighed, caressing your cheek with his fingers
"Yeah, you called me pretty little fucktoy once or twice." You shrugged
You made that joke to relieve the tension. He wasn't the kind of guy who would caress your cheek on a normal day. But your joke seemed to make him feel worse
"I'm sorry." He whispered, looking at any corner of that room, anywhere but your eyes
"Don't be." You assured him. "We agreed on this. That's us. It's fun, isn't it?"
"Yeah, I guess." He chuckled. "We're pretty fucked up, aren't we?"
"That's why we get along." You agreed
He clearly had something stuck on his throat, but he wouldn't say it, so you tried to change the subject
"So what's tonight's plan?" You asked
He looked like he was about to suggest something outrageous. But, honestly? After all you had already done in that exact place where you stood at that moment… you couldn't imagine what would be so shocking
"Would you mind spending the night?" He asked nervously
"Well, your own rules say we aren't supposed to sleep on the same bed, but..." You watched him curiously. "If you want me to, I'll stay."
He nodded and thanked you with his eyes
It was an unusual request, but it still wasn't what he was trying to ask
"What should I do now, daddy? Do you have something for me? For me to put on for you?" You whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck
His arms were crossed on his chest, and they hesitated for a moment
He was supposed to place his hands on your waist or on your ass and throw you on the bed
But instead, his arms wrapped around you on a hug. Yes, a hug. You were confused, but you enjoyed every second of it. He was so soft, so comforting. Even though he was pretty lost. He pulled you as close as possible and hugged you so tightly that you felt like he was gonna break you
"Okay, stop, hey…" You pushed him away and took at step back
His body felt cold without you. His heart broke. The look on his eyes could hurt the most heartless person in the world
"Listen." You told him. "I'm not gonna let you play with me like this. I know you must be going through a really hard time right now, and I'd love to help, but… I can't do this. Cause when everything goes back to normal, I won't be able to stand this, Jake. You're too fucking important to me, don't do this, please… don't give me hope."
"Do you have hope?" He asked. "That I can be good to you?"
"You are good to me, Jake." You replied. "In our own fucked up way."
"Yeah, but that's exactly what's wrong with me right now." He admitted. "I fell in love with you. I want things to change, but I'm just as scared as you are."
You didn't know what to say
Love? Was that why you were angry at him? Did you fall in love too?
"What are we gonna do now?" You asked. You were terrified he would tell you that you couldn't keep seeing each other. You just learned that two weeks away from him are too hard, you couldn't imagine your whole life without him
"I don't know." He sighed. He was exhausted, looked like he haven't slept these days. "I don't know what's gonna happen tomorrow, or after that, I just know that I need you here tonight. And I don't wanna fuck you, I just want you close. Just need your love."
He felt physically lighter after getting that off his chest
You smiled at him and sat on his bed, taking your shoes off
You crawled to the center of the bed and patted the spot next to you
It was a relief. Finally. That's all he needed
He joined you and you both just lay down there, staring at the ceiling for a while
Like you were two teenagers who had a crush on each other and were sharing a bed for the first time
Like he never absolutely wrecked you in there
You rested your head on his chest and his arms automatically wrapped around you
As time passed, you (specially him) started to get more comfortable
Before you knew, you were there, kissing each other's noses, cheeks, chins, lips… smiling and saying the sweetest things
You didn't know that side of him, maybe not even he did
Then you fell asleep in each other's arms
When you woke up, he was looking at you with a new sparkle in his eyes
He definitely wasn't that same broken man you saw the night before
"Be my girlfriend?" He asked after you had barely opened your eyes
"Good morning." You laughed
"Oh no, I already wasted too much time." He laughed too
"So what's the new deal? What comes with that title?" You asked
"More night like this. Some like the old ones too." He smirked. "You're gonna be officially introduced to my family and will have to go through a lot of boring and awkward meetings... oh, we can also hold hands in the park? Sounds romantic, I don't know. Fuck deals. Let's just figure this out together, okay?"
"Sounds wonderful." You smiled and kissed his lips. "Call your mom, ask her what's for dinner."
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awhilde · 3 years
Note
heyy idk if u do requests but can you make more kaeya headcanons? i really loved urs!! it can be angst or fluff idrc <34
fighting alongside kaeya -- a drabble
help sorry for the wait! i've been really busy lately with school but i hope this is okay nonetheless <3 i'm posting on my phone rn and the format is probably going to look really bad but :D i'll change that later. sorry abt it not being a hc, i felt like that kind of format would have been a little icky with this content but i’ll be sure to post more genshin hcs in the future! thank you for requesting!!!
neways,,, here is : the drabble
as a fatui, your interests settled not within the complex arrangements of snippy political meetings nor the sense of superiority that came with the job, but stemmed instead from the thrill of battle.
as a polearms user, you were usually fighting front lines, head and center, wherein your body was subjected to the constant risk of death. it is inherently clear that any misshap on the battlefield was sure to cause the loss of a limb, sure to render you useless in the field. perhaps, though, this was the element that had hooked you into such an establishment, where the line drawn between right and wrong were blurred.
every arrow that whisks past every vulnerable patch of skin, millimetres too close, every claymore that shook the ground by your feet and every wound from an elemental attack left your blood buzzing in your veins and a grin etched on your face.
the truth of the matter was, regardless of whatever the fatui delved themselves into, you stuck with then despite knowing the consequences. this statement held true especially during this era whereupon you were sure the fatui had stumbled upon something outworldly this time around though, what other organization could possibly satisfy your need for danger? the knights of favonius? don't kid yourself, there was no way such a stiff and boring group could offer you such joys in life.
so you had declared to yourself. but the moment you stepped foot into the bustling city of music and freedom, your perspective wavered.
"first time here?" the man with the blue hair asked.
your eyes examined him over your glass of wine (the bartender saying something about dandelion wine?), before nodding. "yeah, what's it to you?"
the man twirled his drink and laughed. "no need to be so hostile, we're just exchanging greetings. what kind of citizen would i be if i didn't greet a visitor to my homeland?"
your eyes traced the short distance between your chairs before sending him a narrowed glare. "awfully close to a stranger, aren't you? where's your sense of danger?"
"you could say i'm quite confident in my abilities. if you need a bodyguard for when you walk around town, i'm always available." the wink he sent you made you snort.
"as thankful as i am, i'd have to pass." you stood fro your chair, intending to settle your bill and leave.
"are you sure? they say the city gets dangerous when it gets darker."
you headed towards the door, aware when you feel a presence follow you from your seat. "surely you have something more fulfilling to do than bother random people?"
"ah, i'm simply worried about a friend exploring an unknown city. where's your sense of danger?"
you laugh and turn to him, a weary smile on your face. "you could say i'm quite confident in my abilities." and with that, you left the noisy tavern behind you, letting the jingle of the bells signal your departure. despite how comfortable you had felt around the blue haired man, you knew connections with other people never lasted, especially because of the person you were.
"now," you muttered to yourself, the city of freedom welcoming your stay. "where do i go from here?"
the blue haired man never appeared in your mind again, the short conversation dissipating as quick as it had occurred. instead, you were fairly occupied with some dragon business you had been sent to settle, and a certain green haired god you had been sent to dispose of. fatui lacked the skill of anemo and it was an understatement to say you were excited to meet in combat with the bard.
he certainly proved difficult to catch, escaping time and time again through the help of a mysterious blonde individual and their floating companion.
strange.
excitment was quick in morphing into surprise however, when your eyes fell on the man in front of you in the present time, deep, deep into a dungeon. his own widened as they rested on yours, an easy grin sliding onto his face.
"have we met?" he said.
you brandished your weapon in front of you, defensive in your stance. "can't really say. you don't seem particularly memorable."
the girl beside him, adorned in red, nudged his side. "do you know them, kaeya?"
kaeya shrugged. "you heard them. apparently not."
you gesture dismissively off to the side. "step aside if you don't want to be killed. i only came for the bard."
the odd outsider stepped in front of venti, your target, and shook their heads. their hands crept to the hilt of their blade with a gleam in their eyes. neither kaeya or the girl made any decision to move.
"nope! paimon says you have to go through us first!" the floating creature taunted.
you smirked, pulling out your polearm. "i was hoping you'd say that!"
not letting the group of four utter another word, you leapt into the air, twirling your weapon above you. the surprise in their eyes as they followed your body sent adrenaline pumping. upon impact, you swiped at their feet causing them to jump back.
"oi, that's not fair!" paimon complained and you made a jab at her, purely to shut her up. your polearm clanged against the metal of a sword as you did so, knock in your aim off course. frost covered your fingers as you withdrew and you shook them off with a smile.
"cyro?" you asked.
kaeya grinned back. instead of replying however, he darted forward, causing you to raise your weapon in defense. his eyes caught the movement and hit your blade front on. the blow was strong enough to send you a step back, and you gritted your teeth against the pressure.
you eyes wondered to seek out a weak spot when you noticed one if his hands had left the hilt of his blade.
with one swift movement, his hand pressed against the side of your stomach, freezing the fabric of your shirt. you hissed at the sudden pain, and pushed your strength into one singular blow, knocking him out.
you cradled your side with a crooked smile. your target switched from venti to kaeya in that moment, channelling your elemental power a tad bit earlier than you had expected.
but, well, the fatui would just have to deal with it.
electrical powered fuelled your polearm, the rush of sheer energy tingling your skin. sending a series of attacks at the approaching kaeya, you allowed the super conduct to double the damage done to his health. similarly, your health dropped with every injury, a byproduct from your own attacks.
eyes identifying an entry, you ducked under an incoming attack and thrusted your weapon into his stomach, halting just before the metal touched his skin. your breath condensed in the close proximity, panting from the combat.
kaeya looked down at you with interest. "was there something else you needed?"
you frowned. "i have you trapped and the first thing you do is joke? what's wrong with you?"
he jokingly raised his hands in the air, you drawing slight satisfaction in the way he hesitated while doing the action. "i would be more concerned but you seem to have no real interest in killing me. this i understand, i am rather beautiful."
your blade poked his skin in warning. before you could snap back with your own retort, and the fiery words at the back if your throat would have been enough to do so, the earth beneath your feet trembled. your head whipped up to check your surroundings, settling on the door that had now opened. the other members sheepishly stood beside the key to the door.
"oh."
the time it took for your limbs to move was not enough, for it had only taken you a moment to blink before the tables turned and you found yourself under the man you once held captive.
he had dismissed your polearm in your moment of surprise and fallen into you, using his hands to push your shoulders to the ground.
your breath left your lungs at the impact and your weapon flew from your hand, clattering as it met the floor.
kaeya looked down at you with the ease of a predator. "hey. funny how the tables turn, huh?" despite being defenseless, he remained above you, even when the rest of his group joined him by his side. it is only when paimon questioned his motives does he stand, making sure his hands never left a part of your body, something he deemed necessary so as to not let you escape.
paimon cocked her head at the sight, at the smug kaeya and at you who looked furious at the treatment. "well, looks like the fatui will be joining us."
you snorted. "what makes you think i'll be helping you?"
paimon looked down at your hand which laid limp in kaeya's grasp. "paimon thinks it doesn't look like you have a choice. looks like kaeya's taken an interest in you."
kaeya sent you a wide smirk.
you huff, turning away from his blue eyes that saught to gauge your expression. but your hands never left his, your eyes never looking for an exit, not even when the group began to move into the next section of the dungeon. something about the warm atmosphere of a carefree group whose only worries were that of becoming emergency food settled the roar for bloodlust. you found yourself cozy, an experience you hadn't felt since your childhood. you no longer held onto your polearm as if it was a lifeline, no longer enhanced your senses as you walked, no longer stood firm and upright.
it felt like it suited you, you who had only just escaped the age of 19.
and when the battle against stormterror fell upon you and the group, you found yourself fighting not for the thrill of spraying blood into the atmosphere, but for the synced dance you and kaeya created as you fought back to back.
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cowboy-crimez · 7 years
Text
5 times stan tries to make bill blush plus the 1 time he succeeds
 stanley uris/bill denbrough
tags: modern!au, no pennywise, nothing is Bad Ever, technically it’s a thot stan au, teenaged losers club
@stenbrough this is less of a thot stan au and more of a thot in theory stan au but ty for saying it was okay to use some of ur hc’s !! they’re a hoot and a half
read on ao3
brief a/n: im a minor/around the same as age the characters which is why i felt okay writing/posting this
1.
Stan doesn’t think he’s at all conceited or vain when he says that he’s attractive. At 17 he’s mostly grown into the lanky limbs that plagued his childhood, his face filled out to be nicely angular but still soft and kind. His hair is still curly but now he knows how to style it, knows how to make the curls fall across his forehead, almost into his eyes to make him look cute. The scars around his face from the time that a dog attacked him smoothed out over the years; instead of them being puckered, raised, and uncomfortable, they now lay flat, only paler than the rest of his face. Even those aren’t ugly anymore.
 So Stan doesn’t think he’s too full of himself when he says he’s attractive. And he doesn’t think he’s tooting his own horn when he says that a lot of people are attracted to him, want to date him, even. His only problem is that the one boy who he’s attracted too, and he wants to date, seems to be a fucking idiot.
 “Bill, can you help me with this?” Stan says, twisting a curl around his index finger. Bill nods, and leans across the table where the Losers are eating lunch. He looks down at the binder full of paper in front of Stan.
 “T-t-this is chemistry.” Bill says, looking up at Stan, “I’m shit at chemistry.”
 Fuck. “No, you’re not,” Stan says, biting the end of his pencil a bit. He thinks it gross, the metallic taste, and oh lord, the places the pencil has been. But apparently it’s cute. “Just try to help me, please?”
 Stan flutters his eyelashes a bit. He did it last week with a girl in his history class, and she turned red as a tomato. Bill looks at him, tilts his head. For a second, Stan thinks he finally has him.
 “D-do you have something in your e-e-yes?”
 Stan sighs. Out of all the boys in the school, it had to be Bill.
 2.
 I really commit and sacrifice so much for style, Stan thinks, dragging his feet along. His boots are way too heavy, and his pants are a bit too tight to be comfortable, but, fuck, if they don’t make his - admittedly, flat - ass look good. It rained recently, so the ground is damp but the air is fresh.
 Another sacrifice: all he has is his off the shoulder sweatshirt, so if it rains again, he’s screwed.
 He walks up to Bill’s door, knocks, and a few moments later Gerogie opens the door.
 “Bill?” he asks. Stan nods, and Georgie closes the door slightly, so he can turn and yell, “Bill! Stan is here!” before opening the door again.
 “What’s up, Georgie?” Stan asks, laughing at his antics. He’s growing up too fast, Stan thinks, and he knows that soon Bill will be crying over how big his baby brother is. Richie sometimes jokes that when they go off to college, Bill will cry the most purely because he’ll be leaving Georgie behind, and Stan has to admit, he might not be wrong.
 He makes small talk with Georgie for a few minutes, not much to talk about since he saw him only a few days ago. Bill comes clamoring down the stairs, and starts pulling on his shoes. He waves, and Stan waves back. Bill grabs his car keys from the key hook, ruffles Georgie’s hair and shuts the door behind him.
 Ever since he got his license and his car, he’s basically been the group’s personally taxi. As Stan climbs into the front seat, he has a brief moment where he imagines kissing him in the back seat, Bill’s long fingers tangling into his curls. Bill’s lips are always slightly chapped; Stan wonders how they’d feel against his own soft ones. The thought leaves quickly, and Stan is left there, face a bit warmer, as Bill turns the car key.
 They drive to the library where they’re meeting Mike and Eddie. Bill parks and shuts the car off. As Stan opens the door he sees the library steps, and the perfect plan pops into his head. He makes sure to walk a little bit faster than Bill, just enough so that he’s a few steps ahead, but not enough for it to be suspect. Even with Bill’s much longer legs, Stan reaches the steps first, and puts his plan into action.
 He makes sure that when he steps he moves his hips more than strictly necessary, aware that he’ll be at the perfect height for Bill to look at his butt. He’s about halfway up when he hears Bill mumble something to him, still at the bottom of the stairs.
 “What?” Stan asks, turning his head slightly, as he takes another step. Except with the damp ground and his clunky boots, instead of gracefully taking a step, the toe of the boot gets stuck on the lip of the stair. “Fuck!”
 Stan’s knees hit the concrete, and his forehead hits the flat of the library entrance.
 “Oh my god, S-s-stan, are you o-okay?” Bill asks, rushing up the stairs to kneel next to him.
 “Fuck, shit, piss, fuck,” Stan grumbles, putting a hand to his forehead as he turns to sit on the offending stairs. “Ow. Am I bleeding?”
 Bill gently takes a hold of Stan’s hand, moving it away from his head. For a moment, Stan think this would be so sweet, if he hadn’t just ate shit in front of his crush.
 Bill inspects him for a moment, “No, b-b-ut you’ll have a n-n-nasty bruise later.”
 Stan pouts, “Help me up.” He makes grabby hands, and Bill laughs, standing up, before pulling Stan up too.
 If Stan is limping slightly when walking into the library, Bill doesn’t mention it. He doesn’t get the same luxury when he goes home later that evening and his mom freaks out over the huge blue mark on his forehead.
 3.
 Eddie’s house is always too warm. His mother must pay a fortune on heating. Ever since Eddie got into a huge fight with her when he was 13, she’s loosened her grip slightly, especially after he couch surfed on all their couches for a few days when she refused to change her ways.
 But she still refuses to let the house to cold, less her precious baby Eddie bear catch a cold in the night. So whenever the losers hang out there, they always end up sweating, stripping out of their coats, hoodies, and sometimes shirts within minutes.
 Richie, since he goes over the most, came up with the perfect solution: bring popsicles. Even though it’s hailing outside, the Losers are inside, not really watching their Texas Chainsaw Massacre marathon, and eating the fruity popsicles that Richie brought over.
 Someone is screaming on screen, but they’re too busy listening to Beverly’s reenactment of how some kid managed to flip his desk in math while leaning back in his chair.
 “So it’s dead silent, Cole and Phillip are getting absolutely destroyed by Ms. Jackson, and then BAM! All we see is papers flying everywhere-” She takes a break, laughing too hard at the memory. Bill smiles at her. Even though his crush is long gone, Stan knows that there’s a Beverly shaped soft spot in his heart, probably right next to the Georgie shaped on. Stan wonders if there’s a spot in there that will be shaped like him one day.
 A drip from the popsicle runs down his hand, onto his wrist. Stan starts to lean in to lick it off, when he notices that Bill’s eyes have shifted from Beverly onto him. Without thinking, Stan meets his gaze, sticking his tongue out as he runs it up his arm, catching the juice on his tongue. He’s moving more slowly than necessary, but no one else has seemed to notice him. He sees Bill gulp, his own popsicle melting in his hand, forgotten. Stan takes that as a sign to continue.  He runs his tongue up his own popsicle - strawberry flavoured - and once he gets to the tip, he slowly puts it into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks as much as he thinks will look hot.
 Bill is still watching him, even though Beverly has recovered enough to continue her story. For a second, Stan thinks maybe he should quit while he’s ahead, most of the popsicle isn’t in his mouth and he can see the tips of Bill’s ears are pink.
But that could be the heat. It could be because they came from the outside only a few minutes ago, so it could be the temperature change. Stan wants, no, needs  to know that Bill is red because of him.
 So he keeps pushing, looking right at Bill, who’s eyes keep flickering from his lips to meeting Stan’s gaze. Stan can almost feel it at the back of his throat, and he’s about to pull it out, having enough evidence that he thinks proves his point. But then Mike starts laughing, and his arm flies out and nudges Stan’s arm, the one that’s holding his popsicle.
 Then Stan’s eyes go wide, pulling the popsicle out of his mouth quickly, as he retches.
 “Oh my god, if you throw up on my carpet, I’m kicking you out.” Eddie says, from where he’s laying on his bed. Stan doesn’t reply, only covering his mouth with his free hand as he gags and coughs. Mike pats him on the back, saying, “Sorry!” over and over again.
 Stan waves it him off, “It’s okay.” he says weakly, eyes a little watery. His face is red, and while it’s mostly from choking, a part of it is because Bill saw him choke while he was trying to be sexy.
 Stan doesn’t meet Bill’s gaze for the rest of the night. He finishes eating his popsicle normally.
 4.
 It’s a warm weekend, and for the first time in years they ride their bikes around again. When they all got to be 16, they stopped, thinking it was too childish, too immature for them. Then they started getting licenses and cars, so for most of them, their once cherished bikes sat in the back of their garage. But Ben texted them all the night before saying that it’d be fun to ride around town for all times sake, go by their usually haunts, old and new.
 For once, Stan decides to dress for the weather, not for the secret fashion show that is constantly going on inside his head. He puts on sneakers, the first (okay, third or fourth) t-shirt that he sees, a zip up hoodie, and a pair of shorts that he knows he won’t care about if they get dirty.
 They have fun, riding around town, stopping to get snacks, window shopping, the likes. Richie falls off his bike twice, and Stan always has fun laughing at him, especally when he knows it’s not a serious accident. They throw their bikes down on the grass at the quarry, sit around and hang out. At some point Mike shows off his double jointed elbow (just one) which makes Eddie gag, and then the coversation is about flexabilty. Richie can put his foot behind his head, and while doing that he falls off the rock he’s sitting on. Beverly can do a back bridge and walk. Ben surprises all of them by also being able to put a foot behind his head, and unlike Richie, doesn’t fall. Eddie admits that the only reason he can touch his toes is because his leg to arm ratio is way messed up, and that he’s not flexible at all. Bill isn’t flexible, but he can do a handstand and cartwheels. Then, they’re all looking at Stan, waiting to see what he can pull out of his sleeve.
“I can do the splits.” He says.
 “Bullshit.” Richie replies, “You can’t.”
 “Can to!”
 “Prove it!”
 Stan huffs, stands up from his log, brushes off his pants and walks a few steps to wear there ground is flat. As he’s starting to spread his legs - one in front of him and one behind - he notices that he’s closest to Bill. He starts lowering himself, low enough that his palms can be flat on the ground.
 Richie wolf whistles, and for a moment Stan stops so that he can flip him off. He looks up when he’s a few inches from touching the ground, and sees Bill staring, mouth agape. Stan smirks slightly, then smiles sweetly at him.
 Then his back foot slips, and what was a slow descent is now a fast drop, arms not quick enough to stop him, and his crotch, from hitting the ground without warning.
 Stan screams.
 “FUCK ME, HOLY SHIT, FUCKING-” Stan groans, arms giving out and torso flopping over, so his forehead touches his knee.
 He can hear Richie laughing in the background as he moans in pain. He wills his arms to move to try and push him back up, but he’s at an angle where it’s hard, and his thighs hurt now, refusing to move.
 “I’m stuck.” He groans. “Holy fuck, I swear, if one of you doesn’t help me right now I will murder you.”
 “How you gonna kill us if you can’t even stand?” Richie asks, still snorting. Bill stands up, slowly makes his way over to Stan.
 “G-give me your hands.” He says. Stan raises his arms, hold onto Bill’s elbows as he grabs his forearms. Planting his feet, he starts to lift Stan up.
 He thought that getting out of the painful position would feel good, but instead it feels like Hell, so he groans in pain again as Bill lifts him up. Once he’s high enough that he can move his legs independently, he automatically brings them together, letting go of Bill so he can drop to his knees and hunch over. Forehead pressed to the dirt and hands between his legs, he lets out one more scream.
 “Richie, I blame you!”
 Stan decides to walk his bike home that day.
 5.
Stan and Bill are in Bill’s bedroom. Alone. In his bedroom. Alone. Not that it hasn’t happened before. When they were younger they hung out alone all the time. Hell, they hung out alone a few days ago. But a few days ago Stan wasn’t wearing a crop top and tight fitting jeans, sunglasses perched on top of his head, as he leaned over Bill’s shoulder to watch a video on his phone.
 Stan’s always been aware that Bill grew up well, but this close he can really see how much he grew up. His shoulders are wider than they were when he was 13. His cheekbones more prominent. He’s still tall and thin, but years of baseball and noncompetitive football with Mike, Ben and Richie made his arms a bit more muscular, legs and thighs a bit thicker. With his head almost on Bill’s shoulder, he can see the tiniest amount of stubble on his chin, in places where the razor missed. Even his stutter is getting better, and sometimes through the pride of seeing a friend get over an insecurity, Stan almost misses the day when Bill would stumble over his words, have to slow down and speak clearly. It feels like they’re all growing up, and Stan isn’t sure how to feel about that.
 The video ends, and Stan can’t say that he really paid attention to it. Bill looks at him. Stan has nothing to say, so he just stares.
 Bill’s eyes flicker from Stan’s lips to his hairline, unwilling to make eye contact. Stan doesn’t have any tricks up his sleeve, nothing to try and seduce him with. He bites his lip without thinking.
 Bill leans a bit closer. Stan has to sit up straighter in order to get closer to him. Bill presses his forehead against Stan’s, noses almost touching.
 Stan’s eyes flicker close as he feels Bill’s breath against his lips. If he concentrates he swears he can already feel them brush, feels the chappedness of Bill’s against his own, can taste the peppermint of the gum he was chewing a few minutes ago.
 Stan is about to lean up a little bit more, close the almost microscopic distance between them, when he hears a loud knock and, “Billie! Billie! You said you would drive me to swimming lessons today!”
 Bill leans away as Stan’s eyes shoot open, a blush covering his face, working its away down his neck when Georgie opens the door.
 “Billie, I’m going to be late.” Georgie says with a pout, already in his swimming trunks and a hoodie, towel thrown over his shoulder, “Come on.”
 “I’ll be d-d-down in a minute, Georgie, go put your shoes on.” George nods and leaves the room, pointedly not closing the door. Stan looks down at his lap, plays with the fraying edge of a hole in his jeans.
 “Do you w-w-want a ride home? I’m sure I could just drop him off, drop you off t-t-t-then make it back to his lesson.” Bill asks, always the gentleman. His face isn’t red, and even his stutter is just from the fact that he stutters, not embarrassment. Stan shakes his head.
 “No, it’s fine. I can just walk home.” He stands up and quickly makes his way out of Bill’s room, rushes down stairs and pulls his shoes on. His face is still warm as he says bye to Georgie, giving him the customary high five.
 When he gets home, he doesn’t slam the door to his room, even though he wants too. He quietly closes it, then lays face down in bed and wonders why he has to like such a fucking dumbass.
 +1.
 They haven’t spoken about The Incident as Stan likes to think of it. Stan continues to wear the same clothes, make the same suggestive looks, and laugh at the same dumb jokes that Bill makes. He’s good at acting like nothing is different. Except now, he can see Bill making suggestive looks back at him, can feel it when Bill places a hand on his arm for a second too look, can hear the flirtation tone in his voice when Bill tells him that he looks good, that his pants make his legs look good or that his shirt is showing off his midriff.
 But nothing changes. They still hang out with the same people, and they still hang out alone with nothing happening.
 Bill is driving Stan to a drive in theatre that they wanted to go to,  the next town over. The rest of the Losers were either working, busy or were on one-on-one dates. It’s just him and Bill. Alone in a car for 45 minutes there, two back to back movies then 45 minutes back.
 Stan is tired of waiting for change.
 “Pull over.” He says suddenly, making Bill jump a bit.
 “Why?” he asks, glancing over, “Do you f-feel sick?”
 “Just pull over.” Stan repeats. Bill nods, indicates, and pulls over to the side, cutting the engine, and looking at Stan with concern.
 Stan unbuckles his seatbelt and leans towards Bill. He puts his hands on either side of his face.
 “You’re such an idiot,” is the first thing he says, “I have been flirting with you since I was 14 years old, and you have been flirting with me since you were 16. You are literally the most beautiful person I have ever met, the sweetest person in the world, one of the most caring, but you’re so dumb for not making a move yet.”
 The bridge of Bill’s nose is a light pink, “Well, you c-c-could have made one by n-now too.”
 “Shut up.” Stan says, before pressing his lips against Bill’s. His chapped lips are rough against his own, but it’s not unpleasant. Bill’s fingers get tangled in his curls, just like he always imagined. Stan smiles against Bill’s lips when one of Bill’s hands rests against his waist.
 When they pull apart, Bill’s face is red, and for once, Stan’s isn’t. He grins at Bill, and leans back in.
 They don’t make it to the drive in theatre.
14 notes · View notes