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rustedhearts · 19 days

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i want your things in my room (fratboy!steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: steve harrington: resident frat boy heartbreaker. handsome, charming, good in bed—what's not to love? if only he loved you. based on this sexy thought of mine

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ rolly’s roller wheels blurbs commissions! ✶ blurbs!

tags: frat boy!steve, situationship, asshole-ish!steve, pining, kind of feral reader because i was feral writing this, smut.

"i want your things in my room, i miss you all of the time. i stalk myself on the internet just to see what you'll find...you look so cool, I wanna die. is it too soon to say what's on my mind?"

— in my room, julia wolf

for the lovely 🫧

wc: 2,095 (oops)

delta phi. saturday april 12th, 2009

Cords of muscle suffocated under the tight sleeve of a red cutoff—ripped while weight-lifting on the porch, you imagined. Knowing Steve, it was intentionally and meticulously cut in the bathroom mirror for a blurry cellphone image sent to another fling.

You never received texts like that. The only texts you received were late in the evening or at the crest of midnight:

you up?

coming over. unlock the back door.

The one trip-up in this eight month routine came two weekends ago at nine p.m.

coming over, brought you a surprise. want you to wear it saturday.

It was a tight white t-shirt promoting Steve for Delta Phi Senior President. You wore it like he asked, lingering in the basement corner of another Saturday party with a lukewarm beer you wanted to throw up when you saw hordes of other girls wearing the exact same thing.

He didn't even look at you that night.

But he messaged, an hour after you skulked home with a hoodie zipped over his face printed on your left tit.

didn't see you leave. can i swing by later?

He did. And you let him crawl over your naked body under a pink duvet and place his mouth wherever he liked. He didn't apologize, and you swallowed down the sharp sting of tears every time he told you how pretty you were—knowing every girl wearing his face that night received the very same treatment at one point.

You weren't special. You knew that. But he had such a way of making you feel like you were. Catching your eye through passing bodies, lifting his mouth in a sideways grin, wiggling his fingers in a tiny wave when he knew no one was looking. Cupping the back of your head in the checkout line at the coffeeshop when he passed by, because somehow he always knew when you were there. He never said a thing, but he had your heart stuttering every single time.

So, here you were. Another Saturday night in a dark Delta Phi corner, sipping a Twisted Tea and struggling to swallow past the lump of hurt in your throat when Steve's head turned to follow the path of a pretty and petite blonde. Watching his biceps flex under his sleeve, his hips turn in a pair of Levis often rumpled on your floor. You washed them once, when he came and got sick in your bathroom after a particularly intense recruitment night.

Steve lifted a wide hand and swept it through the front of his hair. You could almost smell it, the Old Spice soaked in those chestnut tresses. You used his bathroom on the second floor one time, found the red shampoo bottle resting on the edge of the tub.

And maybe you popped the cap and smelled it, closed your eyes and imagined Steve was right in front of you, pressing his cheek on your chest the way he did post-coital: panting wordlessly, letting you feel the warmth of his flesh clinging to yours, running your fingers through his hair to bring him back down.

Steve's eyes cutting your way yanked you from your warm, gut-wrenching thoughts of him. Over the swell of his own bicep: a pair of hazels fixing on your figure across the room. Your heart lurched to your throat when you locked gazes, fingers twitching to wave. He wouldn't wave back. You knew without a doubt.

But those lips quirked up in acknowledgement, and that was enough. Enough to have heat lapping at your face and coiling in your stomach. Enough to know he'd message after the party, when most of the crowd dispersed and his buddies wandered off to bed. Enough to know you'd feel his breath on your face tonight, feel his mouth over your body.

That was more than enough.

✶ ✶

You waited.

Waited—fully dressed on your bed, lamp clicked on in the darkness of the night—with the skin of your thumb between your teeth. Gnawing between glances at your phone, waiting for it to buzz with his name. The deeper the night grew, the hungrier you became. Hungry for his tongue sliding around your mouth, his fingers digging into your ribs with every pull back against his body. His palm cupped around your throat the way it often did when he took you from behind, keeping you braced against his chest so he could feel you struggle to catch your breath.

You waited. You bid your roommate goodnight through a closed door and waited. You peeled your outfit off layer by layer, checked your messages for his name, and waited. You laid back on your bed holding your phone to your faded-t-shirt-clad chest, and waited.

The hunger nestled between your legs, aching and pulsing with soreness. It was terrible how conditioned you were for Steve's attention. How horribly you craved it.

Somehow, his air of coolness made you want it more. When he avoided your eye, when your texts went unanswered, when he brushed by at a party and looped your pinkies together—you wanted him something awful.

But you wanted him most when you had him. When he was running his nose through the sweat on your neck, big hands sweeping over your stomach under the t-shirt he guided over your head. His t-shirt, always asked for in a groggy, early morning exchange before he left. When he was whispering—unwilling to wake your roommates—and promising that you were the only one he'd ever felt this close to.

"Swear nobody's made me feel so fuckin' high before," he'd say. "Love your body, baby, you're so pretty."

Tears squeezed at your lash line, burning as they spilled over. You swiped at them irritatedly, setting your phone on the nightstand and turning away from it.

And then it buzzed.

You flung your hands toward the vibration, snatching the scratched device eagerly.

coming.

missed you.

Falling back against your pillows, you let out a long, blissful sigh. He missed you. That was new.

Your phone buzzed with the long-awaited "here" text, and you had to catch yourself on the stair railing to avoid running toward the door. But the way you swung the door open and tugged him in did little to hide your excitement, and it had Steve grinning wide as you hurried back toward your room.

"Wait," he chuckled, stumbling over his sneakered feet. "Christ, you're quick to the belt tonight."

You clamped your bedroom door shut carefully, spinning around to find Steve toeing his shoes off at the end of your bed. His tongue prodded at the inside of his cheek when he turned to face you again. The smirk on his mouth was delicious.

Suddenly, all that hunger coursing through you fizzled to coyness. But Steve liked when you were shy. He thought it was cute.

"C'mere."

The way he called to you—softly, a sweeter version of his usual tone—always had your nerves tingling.

You stepped in front of him, giggling when he plucked at the faded, stained material of your bed shirt near your chest.

"Sexy 'jamas," he chuckled, swooping down to press your mouths together.

"Thought...you weren't...coming," you mumbled between detachments and quiet, wet smacks.

He said nothing this time, letting his hands drop to your hips to steer you around. He guided you onto the bed, and the pair of you moved like a well-oiled carnival ride until you reached the pillows. Two heavy palms pressed into the feathers on either side of your head, and Steve's mouth continued lapping at yours vigorously.

One thing about Steve was that he was always pleased to incorporate foreplay. He loved the art of kissing, and he knew it well.

Steve pulled away far too early, moving his lips to your cheek. Down your jaw, under the junction where nerves tingled for his attention under your ear. You fisted the thin fabric of his shirt as he dragged his nose across your jaw.

"Did ya miss me, honey?" His voice took on a low gravel that brought your hairs to their ends.

Your eyes fluttered between opened and closed, hips shifting on the bed. Your breath already shallowed.

"Mhm."

"Mhm? Tell me," he cooed, nose rubbing a small circle into your cheek, breath hot on your skin. "Tell me you missed me, pretty girl."

You blinked your eyes open, glazing over the length of his lashes and flecks of honey and emerald in his gaze. You could barely feel your own body, could barely form a sentence on your own.

"I missed you," you whispered dazedly.

Steve moved his eyes down to your stomach as he dragged the t-shirt toward your collarbones. His hand glided over your navel and between your breasts.

"Missed you, too. Take your shirt off f' me, sweetheart."

He knelt at the end of the bed and watched you undress intently, eyes tracing the curves of your body as he pressed to his knees and fumbled with the buckle of his belt. When the pair of you were bare, he returned to his place hovering above you, and you took your chance to roam your hands over his chest. Firm, warm, smooth-skinned. Lifting your back off the bed, you buried your nose in his throat and inhaled deeply. Steve's chuckle rumbled through you, but you couldn't find it in yourself to feel ashamed.

"Smell good," you remarked quietly.

Steve tipped his head away from your face until you settled back into the pillows. He grinned down at you there, hair curling over his forehead and toward his brow.

"Yeah? That's new."

You shook your head, tongue fat and dumb in your mouth. Your fingers traced down his arms bracing your head. "No...always smell good."

A swallow bobbed in his throat. The back of his finger nudged your cheek from the pillow beside you. "Yeah?"

You nodded this time, meeting his eye with what he could only call a lovestruck stare—all rounded and doe-like. "Yeah."

He wished you'd shut your eyes. He wished you'd stop looking at him like he was some sort of saint. He wished you'd stop letting him get away with all the shit he put you through.

Steve was quick to switch gears, pecking a short, painful kiss to your mouth before flipping you by the hips onto your stomach. You gasped at the quick and irritated pull of your hips upward until your ass was arched in the air. He pressed on the dip in your back and you let your stomach drop toward the mattress.

"Good," he sniffed. "Look good like this."

Because he couldn't see your eyes.

And you let him fuck you like that, pummeling so deep that you were buried in the mattress by the time he was done. You didn't cum and he knew it, and the pair of you settled flat with quiet gasps. He didn't press his cheek to your chest this time, didn't tangle your fingers together between sticky bedsheets. He laid there only a few silent moments before reaching for his pants.

"Hey," you called softly, propped up on your elbows. "You're not gonna stay?"

The broad muscles of Steve's back flexed and rolled as he hoisted his jeans over his hips and secured his belt. He pulled his shirt on without turning around, feet shoved into his sneakers before you could even sit all the way up.

"Nah," he said, turning only as he headed for the door. "Gotta...um, study."

Brows furrowing, a small giggle slipped from your mouth. "Study? You don't study."

Another swallow, noisy and paired with two eyes fixed on the floor. His voice neared a whisper when he spoke again. "Trying something new."

You watched him open the door just enough for him to fit through. You hugged your soiled sheets around your bare body and felt the hunger dim to hurt again.

Steve stepped into the doorway and turned his head an inch, but not enough to see those pretty features again. "Later."

You wanted him to miss you again. You wanted to press your nose back into his neck and breathe him in. You wanted him to bring his words down low where they belonged when he spoke to you. You wanted to be his girl for a few moments more, to feel his affection through every drag of his mouth and hands.

But the door closed, and you were left to watch him jog across the street through a sliver in the drapes instead.

Just another t-shirt. Just another girl in love with Steve Harrington.

#rolly!#steve harrington #fratboy!steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington au #steve harrington x female reader smut #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 6 months

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I Know Places.

Synopsis - Jake always joked that he'd kill for you. One fateful day, he does just that.

Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Female Reader (Callsign - Ivy) - Bonnie&Clyde inspired au

Warnings - cursing. very near SA. mentions of abuse/assault. mentions of blood, gunshots and violence. mentions of suicide. please, do not read if any of these warnings will affect you.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 3.1k

Author's Note - i'm not sure what happened, because this was really fluffy in my head. it ended up kind of dark, but i'm rolling with it. i like writing a different side of jake. just in time for halloween too. this was written for @laracrofted 1989TGM celebration!! <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

You stand with your hand on my waistline

It's a scene, and we're out here in plain sight

I can hear them whisper as we pass by

It's a bad sign, bad sign

Jake's always had impeccable timing.

He'd tell you, later, that he sensed it. Just knew. Felt it in his gut, some sort of warning from the universe. He had to get to you.

The Admiral has you half bent over the desk in his office, fingers twisted into your underwear. He's trying to pull them down your legs when the door swings open.

You're paralysed, frozen with fear. The look on your face must tell Jake enough. He gets the message, understands your silent communication.

The Admiral stops. Backs away. As if putting distance between you will erase what he's been caught doing. Trying to do.

You expect Jake to yell, fight, throw The Admiral across the room by his collar. You expect blood, bruises, broken skin and bared teeth.

All you're met with is silence.

Jake strides across the room towards you. Fixes your clothes, smooths down your hair. Wipes the tears from your cheeks. He snakes a hand around your waist and guides you out of the door. Not a word said.

Something happens when everybody finds out

See the vultures circling, dark clouds

Love's a fragile little flame, it could burn out

It could burn out

"He'll ruin my career."

You're tucked into Jake's lap, legs slung over his hips as he holds you close. His rough fingertips run themselves up and down your spine, comforting and gentle. You inhale his musk, letting the familiarity fill your lungs.

"You didn't do anything wrong, baby."

"That won't matter."

The two of you are whispering, hushed voices bouncing off the furniture. You're alone together in Jake's living room. There's no one else around. You think he's scared he'll spook you. You're right.

"I worked so hard for this, Jake. I sacrificed everything to get into Top Gun."

"I know, baby."

"I can't lose it all."

He presses a tender kiss to your forehead, brushing your hair back from your eyes.

"What do you want to do? Report him?"

"Jake, you're not listening to me. He'll ruin my career."

"But he's the guilty one. Not you."

"Yeah, well. This is the way it works. Men can assault you and still play the victim."

You're frustrated, now. There's something bubbling, running through your veins. You can't put your finger on it. It feels like more than rage. Whatever it is, it's lethal.

You climb off Jake's lap and stand, pacing across the carpet.

"What am I supposed to do?" you murmur, tears threatening to spill.

Jake can't stand the wobble in your voice. It tightens something in his chest, pulls at his heartstrings. He was furious, before. He's just sad now.

"I'll do anything you ask," he tells you, standing up to cradle your face in his hands. "Anything in the world."

"I know."

And you do. That's what it's like, being with Jake. He loves so entirely, with his whole being. Every fibre of his heart belongs to you. It beats to the rhythm of your name.

"Just tell me what you wanna do, baby. I'm on your side. No matter what."

You lean up to kiss him, his lips soft and careful against yours.

"I'm not sure, yet. When I know, you'll know."

Jake sits back down on the couch, pulling you with him. You tuck yourself into his side, fitting there perfectly. He slings an arm around your waist and keeps you close, holding you a little tighter than usual.

Cause they got the cages, they got the boxes

And guns

They are the hunters, we are the foxes

And we run

"We should kill him."

You're strewn across Jake's chest, tangled in the sheets. Your limbs and hearts are intertwined, bodies drenched in sweat and lungs heaving.

"What?"

You sit up, pulling the comforter up and over your body slightly to combat the chill of the ocean breeze that's filtering through the open window.

"Let's kill him."

You look over to your boyfriend, waiting for the punchline. It never comes.

"Jake."

He turns to you, the most serious you've ever seen him. There's a look in his eye you've never seen before. It's dark. You're vaguely aware you should probably feel fear - but all you feel is anticipation.

"How many girls do you think he's done this to before you? How many will come after?"

You swallow, biting at your lips.

"He needs to be stopped, baby. You and I both know they won't fire him. He needs to be taken out of the equation altogether."

You realise, suddenly, that the thing you're worried about isn't the morality of the situation. It's the logistics. You don't want to get caught.

"Do you think we're smart enough to get away with murder?"

"Baby," he drawls, brushing his knuckles over your cheekbone. "We're a hell of a lot smarter than people give us credit for."

You know he's right. People underestimate both you and Jake. Everyone assumes he's nothing but a pretty face and toned muscles. That you're just his pilot girlfriend, seduced by his Southern charm and the fact that he's good in bed.

It seems like a challenge, now. You want to do this. You want to see if you can get away with it. You're already on the precipice of losing everything - why not go out with a bang?

"How would we do it?" you ask, leaning in closer to the blonde man next to you.

He thinks for a moment, running his fingers up and down your bare thighs.

"I say we make it look like a suicide. Shoot him in the head and frame it so it looks self inflicted."

You nod, processing.

"I think we should hold him at gunpoint first. Get him to write a confession, some sort of letter. That way, there's no confusion as to what happened."

"You're a genius," Jake grins, dipping down to kiss you.

He slips his tongue into your mouth effortlessly, sighing when he tastes himself from earlier. You straddle his waist and tangle your fingers into his hair, desperate to be close to him.

Both of you are high on adrenaline, buzzed on the anticipation of what's to come.

Baby, I know places we won't be found and

They'll be chasing their tails trying to track us down

'Cause I, I know places we can hide

I know places

Murder isn't as hard as you thought it'd be.

Careful planning. Airtight alibis. Reassurance and recon.

You and Jake have created the perfect crime.

The two of you show up to The Admiral's office on an evening you know he'll be working late. He's doing paperwork when you arrive.

You walk in first. Jake follows, and locks the door behind him.

The Admiral goes to speak, but you silence him with a handgun pointed at his chest.

"Speak, and you die."

He doesn't say another word.

Jake takes the gun from your hand and walks around the desk, pressing it into his superiors temple.

"We need a couple of things from you," he begins. "Just a favour or two."

The Admiral is sweating, pale and rigid. He looks scared. It sends a rush of adrenaline through you. You're enjoying this. Jake is too, judging by the beaming grin on his face.

"Grab a pen, and some paper. We're about to do some creative writing."

Jake orchestrates the letter. Gets him to write exactly what you need. Notes down the brutality, the arrogance, the abuse of power. He makes him recount every incident, not just yours. You're there for what feels like hours, as his shaky hands move the pen across the paper.

Finally, he finishes. Dots the I's and crosses the T's. Jake chuckles.

"Wonderful. And for the last part of this joyous evening were having together, my girlfriend is gonna shoot you."

The Admiral chokes on his breath. Looks to you with fear in his eyes. Finally, you think. He understands how it felt.

He goes to open his mouth, but you stop him.

"Don't beg. Don't plead. It's pathetic."

"We made up our mind weeks ago," Jake adds. "You're not going to deter us now."

You smile at your boyfriend, giddy over the way he's protecting you, saving you, loving you.

"I'm going to enjoy this," you whisper.

You take the gun from Jake and press it to The Admiral's temple. You know the silencer will muffle the noise - you really have thought of everything.

You click off the safety, and lean down so your mouth is next to his ear.

"This is for all of the women you hurt."

You pull the trigger.

He dies instantly.

Lights flash and we'll run for the fences

Let them say what they want, we won't hear it

Loose lips sink ships all the damn time

Not this time

In another life, you and Jake could have been actors.

You're all called into the briefing room the next day, gathered together in confusion.

Admiral Simpson stands in front of your class - pale as a sheet, dark circles bruised under his eyes.

"There's been a situation, and we want you to hear it from us," he begins. "I ask that you all keep this to yourselves, where possible. Don't talk to any media, don't gossip, don't spread rumours. Understood?"

When you all nod, he continues.

"The Admiral is dead."

The room goes silent. Jake's hand finds yours under the table. To anyone on the outside, it looks like a boyfriend supporting his girlfriend. To you, it's something different.

It feels like time stands still. The world stops turning, suspending you in the present moment. Eventually, Rooster speaks.

"What happened?"

Beau clears his throat, swiping his hand over his face.

"He took his own life."

There are whispers now, hushed and clipped. Everyone is in a state of shock and confusion. Everyone, except for you and the blonde man next to you. He squeezes your hand tightly, refusing to let go.

"Of course, there will be an investigation. But, it seems pretty obvious to us what happened. If anyone in this room has been effected by the actions of The Admiral that have come to light... please, speak to me, or any other of your superiors. Thank you. "

He exits the room, leaving all of you in palpable silence.

"What the fuck?" Payback mutters. "What did he mean, 'actions that have come to light?'"

"There's rumours," Phoenix begins. "He had a... soft spot, for young female pilots. People have been whispering about it for months."

Suddenly, all eyes are on you. You're the only other woman in the room besides Natasha, and she clearly wasn't involved.

"Did he ever... try anything with you, Ivy?"

"No," you're quick to answer. "No. Thank God."

The room breathes a collective sigh of relief.

If only they knew.

they take their shots, but we're bulletproof I know places

and you know for me, it's always you I know places

in the dead of night, your eyes so green I know places

and I know for you, it's always me I know places

A month later, you snap.

Jake comes home to find you frantically shoving clothes into a duffel bag, sweat dripping down your back.

"Baby," he tries, cautious, like he's approaching a spooked animal. "Baby."

You turn to face him with wild eyes, fear radiating off you.

"What's wrong, angel?"

You look at him incredulously.

"What's wrong? What's fucking wrong? We killed someone, Jake! That's what's wrong!"

"He wasn't a good guy."

"That doesn't matter. That doesn't make it right."

He cradles your face in his hands, eyes never leaving yours.

"Talk to me. What's going on? You've been okay. We've been okay. I thought we were processing, moving forward."

"I was. And then today, I just... can't. It was murder, Jake. Premeditated murder."

"Listen to me," he demands, tilting your chin up so your eyes are level. "He was an awful, awful man. The world is a better place without him. We saved so many women from a horrible fate, baby. We did a good thing."

You inhale carefully, and exhale a shaky breath, leaning up to press a kiss to his bitten lips.

"Yeah?" you ask, unsure. "We did save people, didn't we?"

"We wouldn't have done it without just reason, baby. We're good people, you and I. We both know we are."

You nod, looking for any signs of insecurity in his eyes. You don't find a single speck.

"You're right. Fuck, you're right. Sorry if I scared you, Jake."

"You scared me because I thought you were leaving me," he chuckles. "Wondered what I did wrong."

"Nothing," you're quick to reassure, tangling tracing your fingertips over the features of his face in a featherlight touch. "My God, Jake. I've never loved anyone as much as I love you. You're it for me. You're my forever."

Jake leans down, pressing his lips to yours firmly and surely. It's as if he's telling you everything he feels without using any words. He pulls you into him, winding his arms around your back and tugging you closer.

"I've got you, baby. No matter what happens. It's me and you, always. I love you."

"I love you too, Seresin. Always."

They are the hunters, we are the foxes

And we run

Just grab my hand and don't ever drop it

My love

"Let's run away."

You're taking off your shoes by the door when Jake comes bounding down the stairs, buzzing with energy.

"Hmm?"

"Let's run away, baby. You and me. The open road. We can go anywhere we want."

"Jake," you laugh. "Are you drunk? What's happening?"

"Not drunk. My head's clearer than it has ever been. I've been thinking, while you were gone."

"Thinking about...?" you ask, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning up to kiss his rosy lips.

"Getting out of here. This place is full of bad memories and old ghosts. We can start afresh somewhere new."

"Like where?"

"Anywhere. Literally anywhere. We don't even have to stay in America. We could go to Europe, Australia, Canada? The possibilities are actually endless."

"What's triggered this?" you murmur. "You okay?"

"I'm always okay when I'm with you," he smiles. "But.... I can just feel it, you know? I can feel everything piling up. There's a weight on my shoulders, and on yours too. We can let that go. I know we can."

"You're right, about the weight. I haven't relaxed in months."

Jake slides his hands under your shirt, tracing his fingers up and down the bare skin of your back.

"I know," he murmurs against your lips. "I think there's something better out there for us."

"Where would we go? Like, serious talk, what are our options?"

"I know places," he winks.

"What places, Jake?" you try to chide, but you're smiling.

"We can go to my mom's, first, in Texas. Just to touch base. From there, I mean it when I say literally anywhere, baby. Wherever you wanna go, we can go. You've always wanted to go to Italy, right? We could go there. Or I have a high school friend in Perth - we could go there."

"I wanna go somewhere with good food. Kind people. Beautiful views. A little sunshine wouldn't hurt either."

He's grinning at you, white and blinding. His excitement is contagious, settling into your bones.

"Imagine it, baby. Me and you, on the beach all day. We could surf, swim, go grab some lunch, then surf and swim some more. Go home, make dinner, sit out in the yard and listen to the ocean waves. Do it all again the next day."

You can't wipe the smile off your face, practically bouncing on the soles of your feet.

"Okay."

Jake stops in his tracks, still and rigid.

"Really?"

"Really. We can go right now, Jake. I don't wanna be here any longer."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Fuck, I love you. Let's pack our shit and go, baby."

Jake kisses you with fervour, dipping you backwards like you're in a movie. You squeal, gripping the nape of his neck for balance. He picks you up and spins you around, twirling you like a fairytale.

"What about everyone here?" you ask, forehead pressed to Jake's.

"We'll miss them, and they'll miss us, but we'll all be okay."

He's right. These people are your family, but they'll understand. You have to do what's best for you.

"Do you really wanna go as soon as we can?"

"Yeah, Jake. I meant it. We can start packing right now."

He wraps his arms around your middle and carries you upstairs, throwing the closet doors open while you grab your suitcase.

Baby, I know places we won't be found and

They'll be chasing their tails trying to track us down

'Cause I, I know places we can hide

I know places

The sun beats down on your skin, warming you up from the outside in. There's a breeze whipping through your hair, carrying salt from the ocean into the car. The sunroof is down, allowing you to breathe in the fresh air.

Jake's hand slides across the centre console and onto your thigh, thumb rubbing circles into your bare skin.

"You okay?"

He's looking over at you, taking his eyes off the road for a split second.

"I'm good, baby."

He smiles, the grin reaching every feature of his face, lighting him up.

You've been on the road for months, stopping and starting however and whenever you please. A motel here, a beach apartment there. You've lost count of how many states you've travelled through, collecting postcards in each one.

You'll settle down, eventually. You've been making a list of your favourite places you've visited, ranking them as you go. You'll most likely buy a place in your top choice. But not yet.

For now, you're content with the open road. The convertible car, all your belongings in a suitcase in the trunk, roof down at every opportunity. You like not staying in one place for too long. It weirdly suits you.

Jake's never looked happier. He glows, smile lines creasing the corner of his eyes. He laughs so often, and you never get tired of the sound.

You glance down to the golden band on your left hand, smiling softly.

"What are you thinking about?" your husband asks, squeezing your thigh.

"Vegas," you beam. "Never did I think I'd be married by an Elvis impersonator in a bright blue chapel."

"I'm the epitome of class, baby. You know this."

Both of you are grinning, chuckling gently.

"We did the right thing. Leaving."

"Yeah, we did. I'm glad I believed what you said."

"What did I say?"

"That you knew places."

He traces a love heart on your skin with his thumb, over and over again.

"Told you, baby. I know places."

516 notes · View notes

writingforstraykids · 3 months

Note

I feel kind of angsty today and I’m in the mood to just read something that makes me cry so hear me out.Minho/Chan or Felix argue with you because you feel neglected and such in because they are so busy and barley make time for you and you just want to feel a little affection and they are also upset because they are stressed and kind of blow up and say stuff they shouldn’t have and evereyone is upset.Maybe they solve it (or they don’t if you want to be mean).But I really need something gut wrenching.

(Also don’t rush and take your time with writing this if you even want to<3)

-🎀

I've decided to be extra mean and make this a poly mess so you have all of the boys in it😂😂 I hope you like it and I don't make you cry too hard...also if you ever wanna talk, just let me know hun🥺🖤

You don't need me

Pairing: Minchanlix x femReader | Minho x Chan x Felix x femReader

Word Count: 2391

Warnings/Tags: angst, argument, insecurities, feeling neglected, feeling left out, loneliness, chan's a little stressed meanie, Minlix is...idk🤣

bold indicates English

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Minho races down the stairs, cursing quietly as he drops his keys. He quickly bends down to pick them up, and his glasses, which he only quickly pushed up his nose before, fall onto the floor.

"Are you okay?" you ask, amused.

"Obviously not," he says, clearly annoyed.

"Well, can I help?" you ask gently, and Minho firmly shakes his head, grabbing his sneakers.

"I'm late; there's nothing you can do about that," he tells you, and you're about to answer, but he cuts you off. "Yongbok! I swear if you don't move your ass down here in five seconds, I'll drive without you!" he yells upstairs, making you flinch at the volume of his voice.

"Is Channie already-?"

"Don't think he slept here tonight," Minho shakes his head and grabs his bag. "FELIX!"

"Minho, for fucks sake!" Felix yells back and appears at the top of the stairs. "I swear, this man is driving me crazy. As if those five seconds would make any difference at this point, my God. It's Hyunjin, he won't kill us!" he curses as he walks downstairs, his hair messily falling around his head.

"Don't you start talking English now and think I don't know that means you're talking shit about me," Minho tells him, throwing his sneakers at him. "Put those on, we're late."

"Well, if someone wouldn't have taken so long waking up today," Felix comments and rolls his eyes at him. He looks up, startled, as you carefully brush his hair back for him, trying to fix the mess. "Not now, Y/nnie, we have to leave," he gently shakes you off.

You pull back your hand and nod gently, glancing at Minho, who's grabbing his stuff and unlocking the door. "Bye, see you later!" he shouts and waves you, stepping outside. Only two seconds later, he's back. "Felix, I swear I will kick you."

"Fuck off," Felix curses under his breath and grabs his things, waving at you and slipping outside as well. The door falls closed, and you're standing still for a moment.

"Well, good morning and goodbye to you too. I love you too," you whisper to yourself and sigh softly. Turning around you spot their packed lunch boxes still on the table. "Shit," you curse and throw your head back, frustrated. You know they barely make time to eat unless you made it. Well, maybe you could visit them later, get your kiss, and check on Chan.

You stand still in the suddenly very empty house and try to remember the last time they were all home and you've spent some quality time together. It feels like months and you soon realize it has been. One of them has always been either working or not even in the country. Sometimes it really doesn't feel like you're living with your three boyfriends but some roommates who stop by now and then.

"Oh, come on, don't be so dramatic," you shake your head and chew on your lower lip. You don't know when the last time was you had breakfast all together, you got a kiss goodbye from all of them or they came back in time for dinner. Needless to say, no one has properly touched you in weeks as well. Were you that easy to forget? Are you just another assignment to get done on their daily to-do lists? Something they could just reschedule to another day if they can't make time for it?

Sighing softly you make your way upstairs and rummage through your closet, searching for a nice outfit. You find a cute summer dress they all love and decide on that. After a quick shower, you fix your hair and make yourself presentable.

Only a little later, you're walking down the hallway to their practice room and gently knock at the door, letting yourself inside. Minho demonstrates some steps as Felix and Hyunjin watch him closely and try to mirror his movements. Felix messes up a step, and Minho starts laughing at him, chasing him through the room. He wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him against his chest, kissing his cheek. "Yongbokie, come on," he giggles softly, and Felix tries to squirm away from him.

"I'm sorry, hyungie," he laughs, eyes shining bright. "I promise I'll do better."

"Once you're done flirting, we could continue?" Hyunjin groans playfully annoyed.

Minho turns with Felix in his hold, and they face you. Surprise laces their features. "Y/n? What are you doing here?" Minho asks confused.

"Oh, you forgot your lunch today, and I didn't know how long you'd be at the company," you tell them, and Minho nods gently.

"Thanks," he tells you and lets go of Felix, walking over to his phone.

Felix stretches tiredly and watches Minho as he scrolls through his phone. "You wanna go again?"

Minho glances at his watch before nodding. "We should. We have like an hour before the rest join us." You nod gently to yourself and put their lunch down on the bench next to their stuff. "Chan's at the studio," he tells you before turning the music back on.

You watch them stunned as they continue practicing and don't really notice the compassionate smile Hyunjin gives you. Your throat tightens, and you quickly make your way outside. You're clearly not needed here.

You knock at the door, and Jisung opens the door, smiling at you brightly. "Hey, Y/n," he beams at you and pulls you into a hug. "Chan hyung, look who's here."

"Ji, I told you no visitors right now," he groans and pulls off his headphones with a heavy sigh. He spots you in the door and nods. "Oh, hi."

"Hi," you say quietly, holding on tightly to the box in your hand. "I just wanted to bring you your lunch. I won't disturb you for long."

"Ah, okay," he says and gestures toward the small table next to the door. "Just put it there, I'll eat later. Thanks, Y/n."

"You're welcome," you nod and are about to leave again but hesitate for a moment.

"Anything else?" Chan asks, not even looking at you.

"Will you be home tonight?" you ask gently, and he raises his eyebrows, still not looking over.

"Why?"

"Because you weren't yesterday," you say and see Jisung's confused frown at that.

"Hyung, you promised," Changbin sighs from his spot on the sofa, rolling his eyes at you in secrecy.

"Y/n, we've been over this before. If I get done in time, I'll be there; if not, then not," he announces, almost a little annoyed.

You scoff at him and put down the box heavily. "Sorry for asking, I guess," you spit out and open the door, stopping when you hear him groan.

"Stop being so pushy, my god," Chan rolls his eyes and looks at you for the first time today. "I'll be there. Are you happy now?"

"You know what?" you ask lowly. "You can stay here for another night. It makes no difference if you guys are there or not, you only have eyes for each other or work. Sometimes I wonder why my three roommates even need me."

"What the fuck did you just say?" Chan asks quietly and stares at you.

"You fucking heard me," you spit out with tears burning in your eyes. "At this rate, I'm just part of the interior. You don't say good morning, you don't say goodnight, you're not home for dinner, you're not there. And if you are you're busy with work or talk to Minho and Felix only. You don't need me right now, and that fucking hurts, Chan."

"Okay, that's enough delusional behavior for one day," Chan gets up with a groan and shakes his head at you. "We'll talk about this tonight, but right now, I really don't have time for this."

"Don't bother," you shake your head at him, heart breaking. "I'll take myself back out."

"Hyung," Changbin sighs a little, but Chan ignores him.

"Come on, Y/nnie, I'll take you to your car, yeah?" Jisung says gently and wraps his arm around you, pulling you outside. "He doesn't mean it. He's being dumb."

"Yes, he does; they all do," you sniffle, and Jisung frowns at you.

"What do you mean?" he asks worriedly.

"It's been like this for weeks now. They all rush out of the house and act like I don't exist anymore," you tell him, hot tears falling down your cheeks. "I know they're stressed; I know they have a lot to do, but is it really too much to ask?"

"No, Y/nnie, it isn't," he shakes his head and pulls you into a tight hug. "I'm sure what you're describing is true. They sometimes forget everything around them when things here get rough. I'm sorry, hun," he says and soothingly rubs your back. He thinks for a moment before shaking his head and gently patting your back. "Come on, they'll never learn if they don't see what it does to you."

"No, Ji, they're busy-" you protest through tears.

"I don't care," he shakes his head and leads you down the hallway. He rips open the door to the room and pulls you with him to Minho's phone, turning the music off. "Hyunjin, you come with me. You two have something to fix here."

Minho blinks at him, confused, and his face falls, seeing you crying in his arms. "Y/nnie, kitten," he says worriedly and quickly makes his way over. "Honey, what's wrong?" he asks gently, cupping your face and searching your eyes. "Hey, look at me," he says softly.

"Y-You don't need me," you hiccup, and Minho frowns at you.

"What do you mean?" he asks, confused, and Felix steps next to you, gently rubbing your lower back.

"Babe?" Felix asks worriedly as you don't answer.

"Go get Channie," Minho tells him, eyes widening as you furiously shake your head. Chan is usually the best to comfort you when you are really upset. "No? Why, kitten? What happened?"

"Channie s-says I'm delusional," you sob quietly as Minho sits down on the bench and pulls you into his lap.

"What?" Felix asks, confused. "Did you two get into a fight?" he asks, sitting down next to the two of you.

You bury your face in Minho's chest, so desperate for such a simple gesture. Sobs shake your body as you tell them about what happened with Chan and how neglected you felt during those past weeks. It all flows freely now, and they both listen quietly, not interrupting you once. Minho's hand rubs your back soothingly, and Felix fondles your hair gently.

"Oh kitten, I'm so sorry," Minho apologizes sincerely once you're done. "I had no idea you were suffering that much because of us."

"You're right, babe, we're so busy we sometimes forget about you or act a little harsh," Felix nods guiltily and leans down to kiss your head. "I'm so sorry we made you feel like that. You don't deserve that one bit, my dear."

"I know I'm being dramatic," you sniffle into Minho's shirt.

"No, you're not," he shakes his head and rests his head against yours. You really aren't. I didn't even say goodbye properly today. Or good morning," he says, his voice laced heavily with guilt. "And...I should've told you how beautiful you look today the minute you stepped inside."

You giggle sadly and pull back. "Yeah?"

"Mhm, our pretty girl," Felix adds fondly as Minho wipes your cheeks.

"We love you so much, even if we act like idiots sometimes," Minho promises and kisses your forehead.

"I love you guys too," you tell them with a sad little smile.

"I'll go and get Channie, okay?" Felix asks softly, and you nod timidly. He giggles at the comment Minho makes and quickly makes his way to the studio. He doesn't knock at the door and steps inside. "Channie babe, we need you."

"Not now, Lix," Chan shakes his head, writing down some things for Jisung.

"Minho said if you don't move your ass over there in two minutes top he won't have sex with you for the next three months. Our tour comes up, you don't wanna risk that," Felix says with a straight face, making Changbin and Jisung crack up.

Chan glances up at him suspiciously and sees Felix isn't joking. "Oh my fucking God, fine!"

Felix walks next to him and glances at Chan thoughtfully. "Push the group back for a moment, yeah? Stray Kids doesn't matter now, she does."

Chan's face falls a little and he straightens up as they reach the door. "Yeah, okay," he says quietly and steps inside with him. You're curled up in Minho's lap on the floor by now as he's playing with your hair. Tear streaks paint your cheeks, your eyes are reddish, and you're sniffling a little. "Baby, I'm sorry," Chan sighs and gets down on the floor next to you. "I'm stressed out, I didn't sleep last night, and I took it out on you. I'm an idiot, please forgive me?" he asks guiltily and hesitantly takes your hand. He must've really hurt you if you went to Minho and Felix about it. You usually prefer to settle arguments privately.

"It's not just you," Minho shakes his head, and Felix sums it up for him. Chan nods along, and his heart gets heavier with every word leaving his boyfriend's lips.

"Oh, Y/nnie baby," he whispers with tears in his eyes. "Can I give you a hug?" You nod timidly and climb off Minho's lap and into his arms instead. Chan pulls you in tight, burying his face in your shoulder. You relax in his hold and close your eyes. No matter how mad or hurt you were, you would never deny one of Chan's healing long hugs. "I'm so sorry, you're right, we've messed up big time. I love you so much, yeah? You're so beautiful and kind, and I could never stop loving you, baby. Never. I will do better, I promise."

"I love you too," you whisper and exhale softly, your heart feeling a lot lighter now that you've told them all. Minho and Felix join your hug and kiss your hair. "You'll be home tonight?" you ask timidly.

"Yeah, we'll all be home," Chan assures you kindly and squeezes you.

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Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

@atinyniki @mal-lunar-28 @lilmisssona @aaasia111 @galaxycatdrawz @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @malfoygalaxies @rebecca-johnson-28 @michelle4eve @lixie-phoria @gxtwllsn @xxstrayland

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bakubunny · 5 months

Text

twelve days of kinkmas: a little tradition (1)

part 2

a/n: starting the month with a little bakugo fluff. was gonna do aizawa smut first, but @neon-gothicc inspired this with her denki fic so here u go i hope u like it friend.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader

prompt: mistletoe

tags: pro!bakusquad, mention of alcohol, katsuki has anxiety, shy!reader, first kiss

see the prompts and join the fun here

If his plan didn’t work, Denki was a dead man. He knew that much. It was early December, and Eijiro and Mina were hosting the first holiday party of the year. After telling them his idea weeks ago when they’d announced the party, Mina had a mischievous twinkle in her eyes and Eijiro was all stupid romantic grins at the thought.

As the couple got decor in place, setting out food and drink for the event, Denki helped set up decorations by hanging things that were a little too high for Mina to reach on her own. When everything was ready and the clock struck seven, people slowly began trickling in as the party started.

Katsuki walked in the front door after Sero. He looked around the room, not noticing much at first. Then he saw it, and turned around to walk out. Sero grabbed him by the coat and pulled him back in.

“Oh, no Bakubro. You dipped on every holiday party last year. You’re staying,” he said.

Denki, the little fucker he is, hung a sprig of mistletoe over every single doorway in the apartment that Katsuki could see. The two blonde men locked eyes, one with a glare and the other a nervous smile.

Yeah, he was a dead man.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

You were in the main living area where most everyone was gathered aside from him and a few others playing a game of some kind, looking like a dream, and Katsuki didn’t know how to handle himself. He couldn’t pull his eyes from the pretty red nail polish that complimented your outfit. It resonated in his head, the way you laughed so genuinely at every one of Sero’s stupid jokes as you sat near him. He felt like he was going to be sick. At some point, Katsuki caught your eyes glancing at the doorways once you’d noticed the first one, but you’d seemed unphased.

Of course she doesn’t care, you fucking idiot, he thought. You’re the only one who’s bothered by it.

As the night dwindled on, every once in a while people would “follow tradition,” giving chaste kisses to their significant other.

He’d hardly spent time with you at all. Truthfully, he didn’t have the courage to.

You’d been on his mind for years, little bits of banter going back and forth as you worked at the front desk of the agency. But he never had the courage to ask you out on a date. It felt stupid; Katsuki had all the confidence and smooth talk in the world when he’d first become a hero, knew just what to say to charm the pants off of any person he wanted to fuck. Then he met you three years ago, and it all came to a screeching halt. His stomach got tight, his mouth went dry. He’d fumble things in his hands for no reason, feel his cheeks heat up whenever you spoke to him. He fucking hated it. His friends never shut up on it, either.

Katsuki noticed there was no one in the main entryway to the dining room where snacks and drinks were displayed, so he took his chance and managed to get through the entrance and then to the bathroom unscathed. He slumped down onto the toilet and started at the floor for a long moment. Red, tired eyes looked back at him when he got up to wash his hands.

“I should just fucking leave. Don’t wanna be here anyway,” he mumbled to himself.

Another knot tightly wound itself in his gut.

It was too loud. Everyone was getting drunk. And tonight, he just didn’t care. He knew his friends must have something up their sleeve, convinced that he gives a single fuck about you when he’s told them time and again that, no, he doesn’t. That they need to butt the hell out of his love life. Because if he were to admit to them that he did, they’d only get worse.

Katsuki also knew that if he ended up under the mistletoe with you, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold himself back.

“Just talk to him, honey!” Mina said quietly with a smile. “Or go take his seat. That’ll start something.”

Your face flared with heat; you’d been debating on approaching Katsuki all night. He looked miserable sitting across the room, but was engaged in other conversation for the most part.

“No, you’re crazy,” you replied.

You stood up and went to grab a glass of water from the dining area. Denki called out as you walked away.

“Hey, wait, can you get me-”

You ran into a wall of muscle with your head turned back to look the other way. Katsuki stood in front of you seemingly dumbfounded and not having noticed you either.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry!”

“‘S fine, you okay?” he asked quietly.

“Kiiiiiss,” Sero shouted from across the room.

“Yeah, it’s tradition. You have to, bad luck if you don’t,” Denki quipped.

One look up and sure enough, you were smack under the entryway.

You stepped back with a nervous laugh and met Katsuki’s gaze. “N-no, it’s okay.”

“C’mon, just a little peck,” Eijiro said.

Katsuki watched your cheeks flush, and the words came out of his idiot mouth before he could stop them.

“Dunceface is right, y’know. Tradition’s tradition,” he mumbled.

With a smile and a sigh, you relented. You pushed onto your toes to reach Katsuki’s cheek and kissed him. As you pulled away, two large hands grabbed your face. Katsuki kissed you hard enough to knock the air out of your lungs.

The sudden uproar of noise in the room faded in Katsuki’s head as he kissed you once, twice, and again. His heart hammered in his chest. By the second and third one, you were kissing him back. He almost couldn’t believe it.

For once, he thought, Dunceface had a pretty good idea.

sorry i forgot to add the tag list 🤦‍♀️

if you’d like to be added to my tag list, let me know. ♡

gremlins: @callm3senpaii @arlerts-angel @dcsiremc @darkstarlight82 @bookcluberror @neon-gothicc @zazter-den @breadandbutter33 @i-literally-cant-with-this @she-who-writes-for-multi-fandoms @rinalouu @stvrfir3 @r4td0lll @emmab3mma @aria-chikage @mhadabiandhawks4eva @yazminetrahan @doumadono @dreamcastgirl99 @maddietries @jazzafayesworld @karebear5118 @unofficialmuilover @cherriluvs35 @erensslut @ruu-https @hana-yuri @keiva1000 @katsul0vr @trickster-kat @ayeohoh-blog @dinomeow @flamgosstuff @mistressreaper @angelltheninth @anonymously-ominous @amberexe2 @hisconsistency @nanamisbigassschlong @223princess @pastelbakugou @gold24fish

#idk if i like this but it gave me fluffy feels so 🤷‍♀️#it’s giving slight ‘michael in the bathroom’ vibes #if u haven’t heard that song i like it a lot but it’s completely unrelated to this #I hc katsuki as someone who’s got a fuck ton of anxiety and self hate under all that anger #maybe it’s incorrect but it feels right #bnha fluff #mha fluff #bakugou fluff #Bakugo fluff #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katuski #bakugou x reader #x reader #bakubunny #f!reader #kinkmas 2023 #fluffmas 2023 #aged up characters

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angelltheninth · 9 months

Text

Band Member Bakugo Corners You in the Back Alley

Pairing: Band member!Bakugo Katsuki x Fem!Reader

Tags: very suggestive, teasing, post performance, chance meeting, kissing (forced), being searched, groping, mention of cnc, Reader being pinned, dom!Bakugo

A/N: Boy bands are hot okay? They just are, its like, a law of the universe or something.

Honestly you don't even know why you followed the band's lead singer, maybe because you wanted to make your friend happy, maybe because you caught him smirking at you while he sang, maybe it was because of all the rumors you heard about him, but you snuck to the back

Bakugo knew he was being followed by someone, a real cutie too, just his luck

"Hey! Brat! What's the big idea huh? You sneaking back here, following me. You want an autograph or some shit? I come back here to unwind after a performance, not be followed by a crazy fan." His voice was just as booming and loud as it was during the song, if not louder because he was getting right in your face right now

It did look a little weird, you imagine he's had many girls follow him like this but you weren't one of them, you weren't even a fan of his, "Not a fan? You here with a friend then? Haha, and you ditched them to follow the bad band boy. What's the matter? Wanted to see if the rumors are true?" He walked up to you, backing you up against the cold wall of the alley

With him being this close you could see how well built he was, all those muscles on display now that his jacket was off, his abs clearly outlined under the black tank top

"Now that I have a real good look at you, yeah, you look like my type. Wanna be my next conquest babygirl? Not here though, despite what you heard I don't fuck my fans behind the stage, I have some class. Although by the way you're looking right now I'm guessing you're exactly the kind of girl that would love to be taken quick and rough." One of his hand trailed up your thigh, making you shiver under his rough, practiced fingers

The slap you have him was unexpected, for both of you, echoing though the alley

"Ah. You've got some guts after all. Guess you're not a complete pushover." Bakugo's hand is back on your thigh like nothing happened, his face leaning in close to yours

Instead of a moan you find your mouth covered with his, and even more surprising is the way your body reacts, legs shaking, thighs clamping shut, trapping his hand in between them

"Yeah, don't let me. Fight me. Squirm, come on, tell me to stop." He feels you go stiff as a board under him, an actual scared sob falling from your mouth this time, "Hey, hey, I'm not a psychopath you know. Ever heard of cnc? That's the kinda shit I'm into sweetheart. Come on, if you don't wanna play, tell me your safeword."

Any word would have done the trick but instead you moaned his name, "Good girl. I knew you wanted it. I've done this so many times, I know a bottom slut when I see one. Hands up and legs apart for me babygirl, I need to make sure you're not recording this."

You were starting to think that maybe Bakugo has some kind of magic voice because you were ready to do anything he said if only he kept looking at you like this, "Such an obedient little thing." You moaned in appreciation when his hands roamed your body, from your thighs, up your skirt, then palming at your hips and up to your breasts, thumbs rolling over the stiff peaks, "No bra? You really did want to get fucked in the back alley like a slut." No, you just used the excuse that it was very hot today, which it was

Sadly before Bakugo could see if you were hiding anything underneath he heard the other band stop playing, which meant his break was close to over, which meant he had t stop

"Looks like this is all we have time for babygirl. But my friends and I are staying at the hotel two blocks away. If you wanna see where this goes, feel free to find me after the concert. And... bring a camera this time." As he pushes away he steals another kiss, his tongue forcing moan after moan from you before he leaves you there to catch your breath, his time on stage calling

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha fic #mha fanfiction #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou smut

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creedslove · 11 months

Text

ROSE BLISS 🌹

Post outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel comes up with the name of your baby, as he is really enjoying fatherhood again

(this is a sequence of the BLISS series which I said it wasn't a series, but it is really. The previous parts are featured on my MASTERLIST but it could also be read as a one shot)

Warnings: there isn't anything, just fluff, like a lot of fluff, maybe soft!Joel, ooc!character, mom!reader

A/N: I just needed some fluff, I watched TLOU this weekend and I needed Joel to be happy 🥺

1.5k words

The baby Miller's name was chosen by Joel.

He decided to name his daughter Rose Sarah Miller.

It was the beginning of spring, Rosie was a couple of weeks old and you two hadn't settled on a name yet, which didn't even seem so necessary for Joel, as he would spend his days staring at his beautiful baby, always calling her princess, sweetheart, love… anything that comes from the bottom of his heart. He had taken her for one of their afternoon walks, which consisted in Joel proudly holding her into his arms, rocking her softly as he walked around the block or around the backyard, he just loved to carry and hold her at any possible opportunity. "Are you tired, darling? Do you need to shower now? Would you like to rest? I'll handle her" he would tell you with a stupid, lovely grin.

As he walked down the street, he paid attention to one of the neighbors' garden. The flowers were finally blossoming and even if Joel wasn't much of a plant guy, he thought they were pretty. Well, everything was pretty to him now that he was the happiest motherfucker in the world.

He stopped by the different bushes of flowers and cooed at his daughter, talking to her as much as he could, as he hoped she would recognize his voice and would enjoy it.

He told her all about the flowers he saw, the colors, the shapes but the moment he mentioned the roses, she opened her little eyes. Eyes like his and that always brought a new wave of pride into his heart. She whimpered softly and closed them again, nuzzling his chest and calming down.

"Do you like roses?" He cooed, kissing her soft head, an idea creeping up his mind "do you like roses, princess? You certainly smell like one… even better than one… do you wanna be daddy's rose?" He nuzzled her soft skin and earned a cute yawn from her.

Joel's heart melted at her answer. She was her daddy's Rose.

He rushed home, crazy to see you and tell you the news. Well, actually see if you approved the idea, but he had a gut feeling you would, after all he knew you also loved roses and now you had the most beautiful one in the garden.

You had given birth two weeks before and though Joel helped you with absolutely everything concerning the baby, he couldn't help you with how sore your body was and how you still got extremely tired during the day. You had just finished baking a pie, enjoying the energy peak you felt and smiled as he walked in with your daughter in his arms. You thought maybe she could be hungry or in need of a diaper change, but she was peacefully asleep.

Joel however, was even kind of flushed. He didn't know what happened to himself, he wasn't like that, he didn't behave like an excited teenage girl, but ever since his little miracle was born, he couldn't help but just felt hope, excitement, joy at all times. Life was good again because he had a daughter and a future wife… Well, maybe, he hadn't really gotten there yet.

But god, he wanted to make you his wife whenever he looked at you and remembered how much he loved you. How you helped him see he was worth of love, he was worth of you and the happiness you'd given him. He was so thankful to you because you were his everything, his second chance in life, and the way your eyes sparkled when you mentioned the name he thought for your baby, made him think again of making you his wife.

He had his Rose Miller and both him and his beautiful flower needed a Mrs.Miller in life.

Joel's explanation to why he decided to name your daughter Rose was quite funny, you highly doubt a two week old baby would have a say on it, but if your handsome and over the moon boyfriend said so, you could just agree with him. You could barely contain the joy to see how much he loved you and your baby, it was so beautiful, such a heartfelt experience and sometimes, you couldn't help but chuckle at it. You were also in love with your daughter, but Joel… it was something else. You could tell his whole world was that tiny little newborn and for someone who had met him before, the way you did, the things you witnessed him doing in order to protect you and survive, it didn't even seem it was the same guy. He was just different… he was happier. He was still jealous and protective of you and of your baby. He very often stood next to you like a watchdog, always making sure you were assisted, comfortable and okay. And God forbid if anyone wanted to visit you and the baby.

It's not that Joel didn't appreciate visitors, but yeah, he didn't appreciate visitors. He didn't like a lot of people he didn't know or had exchanged a couple of words with invading your house, giving you advice you didn't request and he especially hated when they wanted to hold his daughter.

She was his, and well, yours too, of course. But if she wasn't in her mommy's arms, then she should only be in her daddy's arms.

You tried telling him it was okay, he shouldn't be so territorial over her. But you knew saying that to Joel had the same effect as if you had said that to the walls of the house.

And Rosie spent her days in her daddy's arms. It was just her favorite place in the world, it was where she cried and calmed down, she fussed and fell asleep. That tiny little thing was a puddle of love for her daddy and you couldn't blame her, Joel was an amazing father, he was so caring and she corresponded just the same.

You were quite surprised he was so forward in wanting her to take Sarah's name too, you had actually thought of it multiple times during your pregnancy but didn't bring it up as you weren't sure if he would be okay with it or not.

But you liked it. It suited your sweet Rose and you knew it also brought love and peace to Joel's heart.

You finished cutting your pie in slices, knowing Tommy and Maria would swing by with their little Flora later that night, it would be only fair if you served them some sweet dessert, after all the help the woman provided you and Joel with. They'd been so nice to you, so patient and Maria helped you just as much as you helped her when Flora was born, and you were just thankful to have a friend while you went through that situation. As much as Joel was nothing but amazing with you, he was still a man, and had no idea how things changed for you.

You saw how silent the house was, Joel had returned from his afternoon walk and you both had agreed on naming your baby Rose, so you figured he was probably resting.

You silently went upstairs, not wanting to disturb your baby nor your man, in case they were asleep, but you found Joel wide awake, he lay in bed on his side, watching as Rosie slept peacefully right next to him.

His hands stroked her back so gently as he took in every single feature of your daughter, admiring her and still having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact she was so perfect and his.

You smiled at yourself and quickly joined him in bed, wrapping your arm around his body as you were the big spoon even if Joel was bigger than you.

You stoked his chest and down his belly, as you rested your chin on his shoulder and watched your beautiful girl.

"She's gorgeous… she looks a lot like you" he said in his low voice "and she has a lot of Sarah too" he swallowed, during the whole time you've known Joel and then later on dated him, he only brought up his late daughter a few times. You never pressured him about it.

You took only the information he wanted to give you.

"I bet she was gorgeous… just like our princess is gonna be one day" you said and kissed his neck softly and watched as Joel closed his eyes and groaned in approval.

"She was, and she was smart too, the smartest girl I've ever met, and our Rosie will be like her too, I'm sure of it" he traced his daughter's tiny face with the tip of his finger and smiled tiredly. Joel hadn't been getting a lot of sleep either as the two of you alternated between taking care of Rosie when she woke up at night.

"I love you Joel, and I love our Rose too"

"I love you Y/N, I love our baby and our family and maybe one day I would like to make you my wife…"

_____

A/N: I love Joel and I want him to be happy forever 😭😭😭😭

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller imagine #joel miller tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou show

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nyoomiin · 1 month

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roommates: part five.

your new roommate is... odd, and recently, so are your dreams. still, despite the secrecy, the mystery, and his ice cold exterior, you have the feeling you'd waltz right into love with him. (maybe you already have before.)

pairing. scaramouche x gn!reader

tags. no warnings, slice of life, fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, reincarnation au, post irminsul erasure

prev. masterlist. next.

Breeze in the air, the sun on your face. A hand on your shoulder, and the whisper of your name. You turn around.

“Ah, it's you!” you say with delight. The word Kabukimono almost slips from your lips, but you hold it back, for it wasn't very much polite to address your dear customer that way. You knew that nickname of his had been circulating around town ever since his arrival, and while he never made any move to stop it, you've decided to avoid using that title entirely.

Your eyes flicker towards his outfit. He's wearing the things you made, you realise, pride bubbling in your gut. “How are the clothes? They look good on you — they make you look like an angel, y'know.”

He flushes. Pink creeps from his ears all the way down his neck, and why, wasn't that just the most adorable thing you've seen all day?

“Thank you,” he mutters bashfully, gaze trained on the ground. “They're very comfortable.”

He looked just like a doll, you find yourself thinking. You blink awake. Wait, who did? The name was right there, right on the tip of your tongue.

Ki… no…?

No, it definitely wasn't kimono.

Ka…

“Kabukimono!” you breathe out, jolting upright.

Was it an Inazuman name? It definitely sounded like one… How odd. Your dreams are certainly something.

“You’re back! How was your day?” you greet him cheerfully upon his return to the apartment. “I bought takeout for dinner, it’s on the table if you’re hungry.”

“No thanks.”

Oh well. Another day, then. You shrug, turning to leave. You had gotten some of your favourite dishes, and if he wasn’t going to have them, you sure as hell were. Maybe —

“Wait.”

You stop in your tracks, whipping back around much faster than you’d like to admit you did. What could he possibly have to say?

Silently, he stares at you, frowning ever so slightly. You return his gaze apprehensively, wondering if you should say something. Honestly, the silence was getting pretty awkward… You hold back a nervous laugh.

A second passes, then two.

“Er,” you say.

He harrumphs, taking something out of his pocket and shoving it into your hands. “This is only in return for before,” he hisses. “Don’t get the wrong idea.”

And he’s brushing past you before you even have the time to react, retreating to his room and locking the door with a decisive click.

“What the…”

You look down at the thing in your hands, pleasantly surprised. It’s an adorable little wooden carving of a bunny, nothing more than a paper weight and the kind you’d get from a gift shop — but it was the thought that counted, wasn’t it?

The grin that spreads across your face is utterly infectious.

(The next morning, you catch him before he leaves. Which is odd, for you usually only rise after dawn.

“The bunny is so cute,” you gush. “Thank you, I love it.”

Pride settles in his heart. Of course you’d love it. After all, it was he who picked it out for you — and no one had known you better than him, once upon a time.

“Is that all you held me back for?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. Was there a need to get up this early just for that?

You falter, eyes flickering to and from. “Well — I still haven’t learnt your name.”

“Call me whatever you like,” he says simply. “Go ahead, let me see what you can come up with.”

He knows that Nahida had taken a liking to that godforsaken nickname, and the Traveller had taken to calling him Wanderer. He wonders what you’d pick.

“C’mon now, you know my name. I wanna know yours!”

Would you believe him if he said that he no longer had a name? The villagers of Tataratsuna had called him the Kabukimono, and the Fatui had called him the Balladeer. The name he had bestowed upon himself out of spite had been Scaramouche, and before all of that, before all those names, he was simply the puppet. He swallows, and again, he can hear his heart in his ears.

Well, there was that one name…

Your gaze is heavy on his figure, and he knows you wouldn’t take anything but a name for an answer.

“Kunikuzushi,” he says roughly, the familiar word foreign on his lips,

“My name is Kunikuzushi.”)

taglist. (send an ask to be added.)

@franaby @dragontammerz @ainnofinway @sketcheeee @briluvspnk @bunniicantsleep @featuredtofu @tragedy-of-commons @parkjayssi @xiaosantenna @idontevenknow129 @bfajax

#—stellaronhvnters.#scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin impact #scaramouche #LESSSGOOOOO

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yandereunsolved · 1 month

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Macabre Monster - ,, yandere pre & post death Kyle Spencer

tw(s): yandere themes, mentions of suicide (Kyle), Madison's sa mentioned, Kyle's boundaries being crossed (not by reader), Kyle's trauma (non-descriptive)

✧ Both you and Kyle attended the same campus. That is where it all started. You both attended the same party. Kyle was slightly intoxicated when he met you. You were standing in the corner awkwardly with the distinctly red solo cup. You both got to talking, and something just clicked. You made your way to a backroom in the absolutely trashed frat house and just talked. You practically spilled out your guts on each other. Kyle told you everything—how his father died at a young age, how he had to take up the role of'man of the house', all of the trauma sounding to him and his mother. After that day, there was just a connection with you. Call it a sort of codependent need for intimacy. He never had someone healthy to just hang around. He needed that; he craved it with his very being. So what's so wrong with letting that little bud of codependency flower into an entire garden of obsession?

✧ From that day forward, the two of you were practically inseparable. He got your number and texted you all the time. He invited you out to places. He gave you a bunch of gifts and trinkets. He drank and danced with you. He even did a really bad rendition of “Is This Love” by Whitesnake. You guys may have kissed once, twice, or three times, but you just seemed fine not putting a label on it. You still flirted with people and went out on dates. Kyle still partied with his frat brothers and went with the flow.

✧ As the months passed and your friendship grew, strange things started happening. Certain items of yours went missing. You'd get drunk, forget to take off your make-up, and wake up with it completely off and your entire skincare routine done. Your messy dorm became neat and tidy. Sometimes you'd even feel someone playing with your hair or massaging you in your sleep. You thought that they were all just tricks of your mind.

✧ One thing that definitely was not a trick of your mind was when you read Kyle's mind for the first time. 'They're so slammin'. You blinked in surprise and kind of gave him a weird look. He continued on with the conversation, but more weird things kept popping into your head. 'I wanna kiss them.' 'I wonder if they got my gift.' 'I should probably sort their clothing again.' 'I'm so lucky to have them in my life. They are a total catch.' It disturbed you. That was the day you learned you had magical abilities. You were shipped off to Miss Robichaux's Academy.

✧ You didn't see him for a long time. It felt like a long time. It was really only three and a half weeks. For those three and a half weeks, Kyle was a mess. He turned your dorm upside down, but most of your belongings were gone. He had a panic attack and sat on the floor of your room and bawled his eyes out. He frantically texted you only to get a 'unable to send text' message over and over and over again, no matter how many times he tried. He tried over a hundred. He passed out in your room and missed his classes that day. He gathered what was left of your things and hoarded them in his room. He asked about you, and they said absolutely nothing. They wouldn't tell him anything. He was on the verge of offing himself.

✧ That was until he saw you at the party. You had grown a bit in your abilities. You were still barely able to keep everyone's thoughts out of your head, but Nan helped you a bit. You had gone to the party with Madison and Zoe. You hadn't expected to be scooped up by Kyle and dragged into the back of the house. He kind of just pulled you into a hug and sobbed. You weren't sure how long it was. The one time you wanted to read his thoughts, you couldn't. Your ears were too busy hearing all of your blood rushing, as well as his and everybody else's in the house.

✧ The rest of it was almost a blur. You both discovered Madison being assaulted. She must have had her drink spiked. All of the frat brothers were 'taking their turn with her'. No, not Kyle. Not your Kyle. He stepped in and chased them off. The next thing you knew, you were standing with Zoe, and the frat bus was driving off. Madison flipped it over with her abilities, and suddenly your entire world was crashing down. Neither of them went towards the bus. You did. You ran towards it and collapsed on the ground. You could feel only two people breathing. Neither of them matched Kyle's breath.

✧ The next week, you were so closed off and depressed that Madison graced you with the ability to get your little 'boyfriend', as she had dubbed him, back. You were morally against it, but Zoe argued that it was the right thing to do. All three of you completed the ritual. While you weren't exactly thrilled with practically selling your soul to the devil, you were strangledly excited to see your closest friend again.

✧ When it seemingly didn't work, Madison left without both you and Zoe. Zoe hid behind you when Kyle came to life and attacked the security guard. No matter what you tried to do, he wouldn't let go of you. He only aimlessly grunted and kept his hands securely around you. He held you desperately, animalistically. It was like it was the only thing he remembered how to do. Which is strange because you only cuddled with Kyle—well, a lot, actually, now that you think about it.

✧ You had to stay with Misty when you tried to drop him off to get healed. He had an entire breakdown and nearly destroyed her shack because you tried to leave him. You told Zoe to just brush off your disappearance by saying that you were visiting a relative in town. If anybody had a problem with it, they could kiss your ass for all you cared. You had Kyle back. His health is all that matters to you.

✧ You managed to slip back to the academy while both were asleep. You managed to use a sleeping spell you had learned to cure your insomnia. Only you made it much stronger, so neither would be aware of your absence until you had already left. You weren't aware of Zoe's plans to bring Kyle back to his mother— If you can call her that. You also weren't aware of how distraught he was when he woke up, and you weren't in his arms. Neither Misty, nor Zoe, nor the person who birthed him could calm him down. He was worriedly grunting the entire time. He paced and searched around every corner of whatever he could touch to find you. He looked like a lost puppy, walking in circles in search of his owner.

✧ Post-death Kyle has an oral fixation. He's like a toddler. Anything that can fit in his mouth will go in it. That includes you. He likes gently nibbling or just licking your skin. It gives him a sense of comfort and security. It also lights up that part of his mind that reminds him of when he gave you hickeys once. The first time Fraken Kyle accidentally gave you one, he was both pleased and freaked out. After you assured him that you were okay, he kept doing it. You have to teach him not to give you hickeys and small bruises. He doesn't listen. As long as it isn't hurting you physically, he'll continue to do it. Not because his mind is muddled, but because he's just that possessive over you. It's a way to mark you as his. The more primitive part of his brain needs that; it needs you to be his.

✧ He has a multitude of issues with his body and the way it is. He often cowers away from you when he is naked and does his best to cover himself up. His fingers awkwardly trace the scars and the tattoos. He tries to tear his flesh off because he hates it so much. It isn't his body, quite literally. Frat boy Kyle never did anything like that. You even think that sometimes he flaunted his body to you on purpose. No, now you have to be the one to gently coax him out of his shell. With each kiss and loving word, another one of those mental wounds is being stitched up and healed.

✧ All of those issues became especially clear when you rushed to Kyle's previous home. Zoe had already gotten there before you. You both found what was left of his mother on the carpet. It made you furious to think of what would have caused Kyle to have a reaction like this. He came into his old room whining like a starved animal. He was sobbing and could only utter two words over and over again. 'No leave, no leave, no leave.' Zoe was horrified at the scene of Kyle's dead family member. She went to go cook you all something, and you were just stuck with Kyle. Not that you minded. You almost felt a little possessive of him now—overprotective. He's still himself, and yet he's different now.

✧ He refused to wash off the blood without you. Post-death Kyle always does that. You think it's because he believes you protect him from the mental scars that his mother gave him. It's partly that, but it's also partly something else. There are still parts of this brain that work and are able to scheme. He just wants to feel your body close to his. He just wants to take care of you. Just like before the accident. He doesn't consciously understand why he is doing this. He just knows that it has to be this way. It's like there are two different Kyle's pulling at his new version of him: the yandere one and the traumatized inner child of his.

✧ He pulls you in a lot of directions. He does it harshly if you don't want to go with him. He'll just haul you around as well. You are standing one moment, and the next you are being bridled by Kyle down the street. You both left Zoe, and you couldn't convince him to go back, much less get out of his vice grip. For an undead man, he sure gained a lot of strength.

✧ He brought you both to an abandoned arcade, which the both of you would hide in sometimes. The owners couldn't pay rent, so they closed up shop. They left everything there, so people often broke in to steal parts from the machines and fool around. He vaguely remembered the place. His mind cannot remember exactly memories and reasons but feelings. This place felt good, and his old house felt bad. So he took you here, and now he feels perfect.

✧ His speech is basically nothing in the beginning. As time goes on, he develops a greater ability to communicate his words. That's why you often end up reading his mind instead. It's like wading through the swamp that Misty lived in. His mind has three different tracks: feelings, broken thoughts, and future actions. All three clash with each other because they are in various stages of regaining normalcy. He thinks in broken sentences, and sometimes it feels like he knows that you are able to read his mind. With things he seemingly doesn't want you to know, he whispers them within his mind. They get lost in translation. It's like that fog in his mind is purposely keeping you away from certain actions, thoughts, or feelings he has.

✧ His mood is dependent on your mood. You first learned this when you brought him back to the academy. You locked both him and yourself in your room. You couldn't hold back the tears, and you broke down. You were just so fucking sick of everything. Sick of this house. Sick of the other witches. Sick of your powers. You just wanted the Kyle you knew back. They just went and revived him—he wanted to be an engineer. Now he's a Frakenstines monster built back with the parts of his shitty frat brothers. You guys didn't even label what you had.

✧ You were so busy crying that you didn't realize Kyle was sobbing as well. He had curled up next to you and just started crying. When you stopped, he slowly quieted down. He brought you into an awkward cuddle on the dusty floor of your room. You almost wanted to laugh. Kyle was always like that. If you were crying, he'd pick you up in a hug and start humming something from Toto or Nirvana. He'd make really bad jokes and show you silly faces. It almost mirrored now. Kyle was trying to do something to a silly face. It looked more like he was gonna start growling at you. It made you chuckle a bit. Even now, he could make you feel better.

✧ That was only one way in which he mimicked your moods—mimicks you. He's much more prone to outbursts when you are angry or frustrated. If you slam your palms on the table out of irritation, he'll do the same. Only he'll accidentally break the table. That's happened more times than you'd care to admit. The coven is going to need a separate fund to just pay for the stuff Kyle breaks.

✧ Your habits and routine are what also help him regain some of his independence. He watches you with a keen eye. He imitates most everything you do. Of course, his actions are clumsy, and sometimes he breaks things, but he still tries his best. Frat Kyle would do that as well to tease you. He'd tease you out of bad habits such as biting your nails or forgetting to drink water. He nearly shoved a water bottle down your throat during your study hall when you casually confessed to him that you hadn't drank anything all day.

✧ That's the thing about people, right? They always surprise you. Zoe knocked you out and dragged Kyle down to the greenhouse to chain him up. She did. Madison returned. It's like death means nothing to these people. All of those memories with Kyle are yours. He remembers those feelings he had for you. Which is why it's so hard for you to be around him. He's just someone who needs someone. That someone just happened to be you.

✧ It's a good thing that little miss 'I'm going to save him' didn't kill him down there. He probably would have killed her if she really tried. He escaped and ran up to your room. He refused to move from your body until you woke up. You were the one put in charge of caring for him. Well, nobody else really could. You are the only one who is able to untangle his mind. You could still see Kyle in there. You saw almost every part of him. Everybody around him just took, took, took. You're the only one he'd let take from him anymore.

✧ He developed a habit of touching your temples whenever he wanted to really, really tell you something or communicate. It was kind of cute. He looks up at you with those doe eyes and just concentrates really hard on thinking correctly. When you respond, he lights up and bounces on the balls of his feet. It was cute until it wasn't. Sometimes the thoughts you heard from him kept you up at night.

'Kill everyone... for... you. You mine. Like before. Remember?'

'Steal stuff of yours. Keep it. Home. You.'

'Massage you like before. When sleeping. Adorable— adorable sleeper.'

'Scars. Scars like mine. Hurt you. Scars like mine. All get scars like mine.'

'Party together. Two. Us. Booze. Ex-boy dead. Me. Did it. So party. Us. Two. Only.'

✧ You didn't truly understand why he would think those things or act this way. You did understand it a little the day Zoe and Madison tried to make him a glorified sex doll. At that point, not even glorified. You knew all the things Kyle had been through. You constantly have heard his mind. When Madison started touching him like that the earth trembled beneath you, quite literally. The entire state shook. You may or may not have accidentally absorbed some of Kyle's emotions. So when Madison did that you just about wanted to tear her head off. Kyle gave you a scared, confused look.

'Good feeling? Bad feeling? Help, please.'

She was lucky to have been revived from the dead once. You were itching to put her back under. That scared you, but it also made you feel safe. Kyle always stood up for you when people made you uncomfortable. You never really had the chance to do it for him because he wouldn't let you. When you absorbed his feelings you really felt him. It was intoxicating. It's safe to say Kyle put his fingers on your temple and asked you a lot of questions about that encounter.

✧ Kyle asks a lot of questions. It's part of you teaching him how to remember himself. Some of those things are best left not remembered. Some of the questions are appropriate and some of them are not. You still remember him asking if you two ever did it. He asks a lot of questions about all of the witch and magic stuff. It is what he was most curious about before he died. After all, you just disappeared on him. He almost killed himself because of that. He ended up dead anyway. The irony is lost on him, but not on you.

'Magic? You?'

"I can read minds, remember? That's how we communicate. I've also learned that people's emotions affect me. I can make people feel things— or use their energy to make things happen."

'Like—'

He had a breakdown after that. He remembered you being taken from him. He would never let that happen again. Never.

✧ He's territorial, in case you couldn't tell. He isn't exactly the master of subtly. He grunts and smacks anyone in the house that gets too close to him, except you. He holds everything he loves close to him, including you. He has a bad habit of murdering people you interact with. You'd tried to explain it to him, but he adamantly refused to stop. You aren't naive about what all of this means for you. He isn't exactly in the condition to keep his darkest secrets away from you, mostly. Still, your abilities connect you with his emotions. You can't entirely control it. So you need to be around him just as much as he needs to be around you. You do your best to get him to stop killing people. You truly do. It's just that doe-eyed expression he gives you that makes you give into him every single time.

✧ The tablet you gifted him is the thing he is second-most territorial about. He always keeps it with him. He watches it when it's on the charger. You gave him a protective covering for it and a bag so he could carry it around. It's like his safety item. You have a bunch of games on there to help him learn. You also downloaded things that he liked before his death. You have an entire album of just you and him on that thing. Every time he sees you, he wants to take a new picture of you to put in the album. It makes him remember a little bit more.

✧ He traces the outline of your figure in every photo. You've caught him kissing his tablet with a picture of you on it more times than you'd like to admit. He always gives you this kind of blank but dopey smile afterwards. His pupils are always dilated around you, so it kind of makes him look like he's high. You don't know if the pupil thing is because of his resurrection, something with your magic, or if he is just that obsessed with you. He is just that obsessed with you.

✧ He also decorated the bag you got him with cloth markers. It was an exercise you did to help him with his fine motor skills. It was relaxing until he drew himself with both of you holding hands while everything was on fire around you. That was what you understood of the drawing anyway. You still let him keep it on there. He doesn't let anyone else touch the bag. Nan tried to touch it once, and he nearly bit her fingers off.

✧ You have to teach him to be gentle with others. He's gentle around you, but with anyone else, he has a very high chance of breaking one of their bones. You start off with animals first. They are less confrontational than humans and are genuinely easier to get alone with. Only he snaps the dog's neck and most every other animal you try to introduce to him. He only stops when he sees you getting upset. His mind immediately filled with shame in those moments. 'No. You plus me. No animals. Sorry. Love you.'

✧ He has a tendency to watch you at night. Just like he secretly did before all of this happened. He crawls into your bed and plays with the strands of your hair. He wraps himself around you tightly. Most of the time, he is the big spoon. He just likes placing his head over yours. He is obsessed with listening to your breathing and the beating of your heart. It reminds him that you are still with him.

✧ He 100% kills any witch hunter within any radius of you. If he hears anything with the word 'witch hunter', he is off searching for that person. Part of him doesn't want to murder, but the other part of him is more than eager to get rid of the person who wanted the coven harmed. He still mostly protects you, but after awhile, he learns to grow a bit more protective of the people you actually like in the coven. He doesn't want to see you in any distress. So protecting those close to you counts. In a dangerous situation he will still save you first. Even though you are more than able to handle yourself, Kyle still does it for you.

✧ Madison still absolutely cannot stand your relationship and close proximity to Kyle. She believes that it should be her who loves him. During the test of concilium, she tried to make Kyle kill you. You sensed something in his brain shut off at that point. That scared inner child was angry, and so was his violently obsessive side. It's like his need for you outweighed any other thought Madison could put in his mind. He didn't kill her then. He waited until she failed. Then he stalked into her room, and well, they never found her body. On some level, everyone knows it was Kyle, but it's left unsaid. That's just one of the many secrets of Kyle's that you will keep with you to the grave.

✧ You may not have completed all of the seven wonders, but you did become one of the new witches on the Witch Council. With Cordelia's blessing and a yandere, semi-functioning Kyle, you both set out across the world to find witches and bring them to safety within the academy's doors. The question remains: will he allow you to do so? Or is his docile behavior just a ruse to hide you away and make you permanently his?

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⟿ taglist: @coentinim @bluerthanvelvet444 @cxndiedvi0lets @doll3tt33 @lacucarachapisser

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#american horror story #ahs coven #kyle spencer #yandere kyle spencer #yandere #kyle spencer x reader #yandere kyle spencer x reader #kyle spencer x you #yandere kyle spencer x you #gn reader #yandere headcanons #ahs headcanons #my headcanons #headcanons and stuff #american horror story x reader #yandere american horror story x reader #ahs fanfiction

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celestoria · 5 months

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Genshin Impact (Taylor’s Version)

Tags: SFW with semi-angst Characters: Scaramouche, Zhongli, Kaeya, Lyney

Scaramouche (The Way I Loved You)

I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain // it's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name // So in love that I acted insane // And that's the way I loved you // Breaking down and coming undone // It's a roller coaster kind of rush // And I never knew I could feel that much // And that's the way I loved you.

Loving you was so frustrating…yet so addicting.

Scaramouche had a complicated way of showing his feelings towards other people and always rubbed them the wrong way. However, you didn’t give up.

You noticed how the same lips that mumbled disdainful complaints were the same ones that would kiss you so passionately under the pale moonlight. His hands that would brutally throw a fight when needed are the same ones that would hold you delicately as he leads you to a secret spot only the two of you know.

Sure, there are times when you wouldn’t meet eye to eye, but in the end, no word would mean as much to him compared to the first time you told him you'll never leave him. Scaramouche felt so alive since he fell in love with you and he would never trade it for the world.

Zhongli (Wildest Dreams)

Say you'll remember me // Standing in a nice dress // Staring at the sunset, babe // Red lips and rosy cheeks // Say you'll see me again // Even if it's just in your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha // Wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha

Times of old may be memories of the past but those moments shall never be forgotten.

How long has it been since he last saw you? A month? A decade? Centuries? It all feels the same when you’ve lived for 5000 years.

Still, he can’t bear to forget every bit of you, even if it pains him to reminisce about the days you called him yours. He loved how your hair flowed with the wind the first day you met each other during a busy day at the harbor, the distinct scent of your favorite perfume that could easily make his head turn, and even that beautiful shade of red that often smudged on the side of his neck whenever you were going out.

Sometimes your ghost haunts him in his dreams, but alas it was just a figment of his imagination playing what could have been if life was a little bit kinder to the both of you. But if everything is just one Samsara cycle playing over and over again, he promises to love every one of them until Teyvat and Celestia itself ceases.

Kaeya (Cruel Summer)

I'm drunk in the back of the car // And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar (oh) // Said, "I'm fine, " but it wasn't true // I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you // And I snuck in through the garden gate // Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh) // And I screamed for whatever it's worth // "I love you, " ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

Everyone has their fair share of secrets, and Kaeya was no exception.

But he kept them buried where no one would find them. Like the last time he opened up about his deepest, darkest secret to someone he trusted, Kaeya fears you’ll push him away once he finally comes undone in front of you.

However, it was such a pain to keep things like that. Always yearning for you but never having you. Brave is the kindest word you can call a fool, so call him the most foolish man on earth when he poured his heart confessing to you how much his heart aches for you like it's his guilty pleasure.

He was ready for rejection to kick him in the guts like a horse, but instead, he was meat with your flushed cheeks and warm smile. To him, he felt like he was confessing shame, but to you, it was the few words you always wanted him to say.

The weight of pining finally fell off his shoulders, freed with the knowledge you always felt the same way for him. Kaeya’s thankful that even though luck often refused to be on his side, it gave him this small chance to find something sweet to make everything seem a little less cruel.

Lyney (Today was a Fairytale)

But can you feel this magic in the air? // It must have been the way you kissed me // Fell in love when I saw you standing there // It must have been the way // Today was a fairytale

To him, loving you felt like a romance novel, always making his heart flutter like the wings of doves flying out of his hat. It must have been love at first sight, the way your enthusiastic, wide-eyed smile became enthralled with his street performances as you stood amongst the crowd.

How lucky he is that fate allowed him to have someone always by his side. Though he was the magician between the two of you, you were always the one taking his breath with whatever you had to offer.

You seem to know how to make his gloomy days a little bright with a bright smile, how to make the simplest gifts feel like the grandest gestures with him, and how to make real life feel like a fairytale that he thought would only be possible in children’s books. The sun always seems to be burning on his cheeks whenever you try to kiss him.

Even though he knows every magic trick there is, how in the world he managed to pull such a beautiful person like you will always remain a mystery to him. That must be destiny’s own little magic, he guessed — always finding a way to let two people tied with a red string of faith find each other in a chaotic mess of a world.

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jacksonlywife · 5 months

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Sukuna’s Kinda…

(GN!Reader)

(Summary: Yuji Itadori is your best friend and when Sukuna comes out after a fatal strike into Yuji’s gut you find yourself wooed by him.)

TW: Blood, mention of decapitation

Yuji and you were going on a mission together. Gojo knew you two were extremely compatible because of the friendship you developed. Some thoughts crossed your mind. You were curious how your best friend dealt with the King Of Curses living inside his body. You praised him for his mental and physical stability in your head.

You could never.

Just imagine a curse watching your every move. The King Of Curses at that. As you both reach a run down apartment, creaking could be heard from behind the bathroom door making Yuji’s ears perk up in surprise.

“You stay here. I’m gonna check.” He said eyes squinted and got into a defensive stance which made you chuckle because this wasn’t such a huge mission yet he was taking it so seriously.

“Yuji calm down, it may just be a Grade 3 or lower spirit.” You remind him flapping your hands dismissively.

“Strong or not I gotta be ready.” He said with determination in his tone making you smile. You loved how he never gave up. Despite the crap he’s gone through he still manages to lift a smile on his face gracing us with his positivity.

BANG!

The bathroom door flies open causing the door to break into millions of wood pieces, each individual one aiming for Yuji.

Yuji’s fast reflexes hit him as he twirled and brought his foot to the broken wood bits, kicking them all back at the thing that threw it at him in the first place roughly.

“Yuji watch out!” You yell just realizing another curse was right behind him. You were too slow as you picked up your feet trying to prevent the thing from hitting him.

Your heart dropped as you saw it aim directly for his gut as it swiftly flung him out the apartment, windows breaking along with him falling down.

You yell again and this time jump alongside with him worry washing over all the emotions that were once there.

Yuji was on the ground, forehead bleeding.

You pant in unease and slammed your knees against the ground close to him checking for a heartbeat.

“Come on..come on..” You mutter eyebrows knitted together and pupils dilated in extreme nervousness.

You did not want to lose your best friend.

Especially not to a curse.

All of a sudden Yuji’s once blank face was covered in black markings. Odd markings that traced over his jaw, cheeks, forehead, and beneath his eyes.

What the hell is going on?

Did that curse that attacked him send some kind of poison-

Shoot. You forgot the curse.

You stand up and get ready to fight the thing that hurt your best friend but your knees grow weak and buckle slightly as you feel an intense aura behind you.

Intense.

You slowly turn your head but what met with your eyes made you clench your fists in horror and breath shorten.

Yuji was up.

No. That's not Yuji.

You try to open your mouth but the person who's wearing Yuji’s skin puts a finger to your lips.

“Hush now. You don’t wanna piss me off do you?”

You flinch in surprise and avert your eyes and fall silent.

The man sighs and looks around.

“Where's that curse that kid told me to beat..” He mumbled with a unamused tone.

By that kid could he mean Yuji?

Wait wait wait.

There is a curse living inside of him.

No way.

Sukuna the King Of Curses was standing right in front of you.

He could kill you at any giving moment.

“Ah there it is.” Sukuna says, smirking slightly and vanishing. He was so fast you couldn’t even comprehend if he teleported or something.

You could hear screaming and blood spilling above you. You adjust your vision to above to see Sukuna absolutely wrecking the curse with no remorse evident on his face. He smiled while doing it.

Kinda hot lowkey.

Wait what?

A large thud hit the ground as the curse laid there.

Eyes completely void of colour.

Sukuna hops down the building, hands in Yuji’s pockets and a smirk dancing on his lips as if he just watched the best movie ever.

“That was fun.” He said mumbling and stretching. You still didn't dare utter a word believing if you did the response would be a decapitated head.

You look at the ground timidly and your eyes dart everywhere apart from Sukuna.

“Better give the kid his body back now. What a pain.” He rolled his eyes and then the markings on his face vanished.

Yuji is back.

“Yuji!” You cry as you hug him as tight as you could.

“Hey hey! What's wrong?” He said, confused by your saddened demeanor.

“I thought you died..” You say pouting slightly.

“Well I’m fine aren't I? Plus how was the meeting with Sukuna?” He gives a cheeky smile.

“Well for one I was terrified. Secondly..” You drift off.

“Secondly.?” He repeats waiting for your answer.

“Sukuna’s kinda hot.” You avert your eyes as much as you could.

“What.” Yuji stared at you with dead eyes like you said the most horrendous thing on Earth.

Which you did.

Well eating crap is worse.

“He is!” You say blushing slightly.

“I'm leaving.” Yuji says walking away.

��Waitttt!” You chase after him as a giggle erupts through your mouth.

#sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen #romance #x reader #gender neutral mc #jujutsu sorcerer #yuji itadori #itadori #yuji jjk #itadori yuuji #jjk #jujustsu kaisen x reader

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justmeinatree · 2 months

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04 - How Good We Have It Though

Summary : part 4 to Let Passion Get Too Much … niall x louis x reader threesome

previous part /// jump to pt. 1

TW : smut, double penetration, creampie, choking, pussy slapping, subspace

Word Count : 4.5k

GIFs : unknown - msg for credit

it was a fluke really. you don’t remember the last time you had the confidence to blurt out that you clearly wanted sex. with your best friend, no less. but also to just have the guts to lay it all out on the table.

it must have been the weed. at least, that’s what you’ll blame it on later if they ask. either way, you don’t think they’ll be too hung up on it. especially since they currently both have their cocks nestled tightly into your cunt.

“so, do we have to wait for some kind of event ?” you blurted out earlier that night, curled up with niall on the couch, louis sitting sideways on the armchair, legs thrown over the side.

you’d started noticing a few weeks ago that your joint smoking sessions had gotten much more frequent. almost as if the three of you were just looking for an excuse to be in the same room, probably in a pointless attempt to see if anything would happen. truthfully, you were all too scared to make the first move.

but you were absolutely over it, and honestly the entire thing was just getting stupid. so you used the courage, or more like lack of care to anyone’s reaction, thanks to the second joint you were smoking, to speak up.

“what are you talking about ?” niall asks, eyebrows furrowing slightly, leaning his head against yours, still in a cuddle.

“to fuck,” you explain pointedly, “the three of us. do we really need some kind of event ?”

niall and louis exchange glances, something you can tell is happening, even from the crook of niall’s neck. so you pull away from him, sitting yourself comfortably to face them both.

“can’t we ?” you ask softly, looking over them. “we all love it, right ? we’ve all said so time and time again.”

“yeah,” louis’ quick to jump in, nodding, “s’the best really,” he agrees, looking over at niall’s expression, not wanting to cross any sort of line with him.

“you gotta know i love it,” niall laughs, nodding towards louis, “only one that can make me cum when m’drunk apparently.”

“bad luck for the irish man, innit ?” louis chuckles, shaking his head and taking a big breathy sigh, adding more seriously, “feel like there’s gotta be some rules now.” because he’s not exactly that naive. as much as he can tell himself that there’s nothing better. that you two love him just the same. always have. that you’re all in this for a good time. at the end of the day, louis is the outsider in this agreement. he’s not the one that gets to call either you nor niall, his.

niall looks over at you, having a silent conversation with your eyes, niall speaking up, “if we’re including louis, s’only when we’re all here. one on one feels like crossing a line.”

you nod, reaching for niall’s hand, giving it a squeeze, and pecking his lips, louis adding, “that’s fair, don’t wanna be fucking up anyone’s relationship.” and it’s true. he’d absolutely hate himself if he was the cause for any trust issues between you and niall. or worse, the cause of a failed relationship/friendship.

“can i-“ you cut yourself off, sighing, “look, what happens between us, stays between us right ?” you ask. “i mean like, we can totally trust each other.”

“course petal,” niall coos, giving your thigh a squeeze, looking over your face, trying to figure out where you’re going with this. because not once, in the decade you’d been dating, have you ever mentioned any lack of trust.

“you know you can trust me, lovely,” louis hums, “where’s this coming from ?”

“no,” you furrow your eyebrows, shaking your head, because they got it all wrong, “m’not talking about me. look, you both have talked with me. and truth is, you both feel the exact same way about what we do and how it makes you feel.”

and with that, the energy in the room shifts. like all the air around you has just gotten incredibly heavy. like a balloon being pushed to its limits, waiting for the pressure to make it all pop.

a moment later, louis lets out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head playfully, “christ, really gonna back us into that corner ?”

“it had to be said,” you shrug, looking between them innocently. you didn’t want to ruffle feathers, or make anyone uncomfortable. not that there was really any reason to be. but, that truthfully wasn’t your intention. if this was going to work, you all had to be honest with each other. open about feelings and such. “you both need to understand that it’s okay. of course it feels good. it’s supposed to feel good. and i know it may be a bit weird to cross this line. but, it’s okay. you really don’t have to hide it from each other.”

then louis got up from his chair, and waltzed over to plant the hardest, hottest kiss you’d ever been privy to witness, smack on niall’s lips. a moment later, as niall gives in, his hands reached out to grip into louis’ shirt, tugging him closer.

it was followed by a mess of clothes being strewn about the house, limbs tangled together and stumbling up the stairs, foregoing the convenience of the couch for the comfort and spacing of niall’s bed.

the air around you was thick with lust, want, need. and it took over the blurriness of it all, as you all settled into each other, hands roaming bodies, tongues licking heated skin, teeth nipping, mouths sucking, it was all a whirlwind in your mind, too much to focus on properly.

but now, with your hips straddling louis’, his prick nestled deep inside you, you could feel niall’s length bobbing against your bum from behind you. “m’not prepped,” you murmur, your head tipping back against niall’s shoulder, your body stretched, exposed to louis’ wandering eyes.

niall’s hands fall on your breasts, softly kneading your skin, avoiding your nipples entirely as a form of teasing, “m’not going there,” he hums against your ear, loud enough for louis to hear as well. “wanna feel both of you tonight,” he adds, eyes looking over your body to catch louis’, as the tip of his member slides lower, resting against your heat and the base of louis’ cock. “got room for one more in there ?”

“always for you,” you keen, muscles relaxing comfortably, as niall’s fingertips leave your breasts, gliding down your tummy, stopping to swirl around your bellybutton, slowly dipping down over your mound, towards your clit.

“always so wet,” niall mewls, his mouth instantly attaching to your neck, his body taking over.

“she’s fuckin soaked, mate. you’ll slide right in,” louis breathes, making a quick groan rumble from niall’s chest, tickling the skin on your neck, as his fingers pick up the pace, rubbing over your sensitive button softly but with purpose, distracting you from the slight pained stretch of his cock joining louis’.

you hiss, breath cut off from your lungs, as your pussy gives way, the tip of niall’s cock breaching your centre. and just as louis said, his dick glides right in, eliciting a loud moan from you, louis’ eyes rolling back, head falling to your chest.

his tongue darts out, licking your nipple into his mouth, almost purring around it. instinctively, his hands leave your hips, one of them smoothing up your side, gripping your shoulder from behind, the other wrapping its way around niall’s hips, pulling you all flush together, smothering you in a louis/niall sandwich.

“can feel your cock so fuckin well,” niall groans, rolling his hips experimentally for the first time since being smooshed inside you. “fuck,” he murmurs to himself, rutting into you with more purpose, “fuck, your prick feels so fuckin good in there, louis.”

“christ, you’ve got to learn to shut up,” louis growls, his head lifting from your chest, lips smothering niall’s in a desperately heated kiss.

with your head leaned back against niall’s shoulder, you peer up at them, hearing their soft mewls and deep grunts, goosebumps erupting all over your body at the most gorgeous view before you. with louis’ neck stretched, your mouth reaches forward to trail soft kisses against his stubbly skin, feeling the bob of his throat as he swallows down niall’s moan.

as niall’s brain catches up to louis’ words, his eyebrows furrow momentarily, biting into louis’ lip to slow the kiss, “fuck are you on about ?” niall hums into his mouth.

“when you talk,” louis admits, lips ghosting over niall’s as he speaks, “get me so fuckin worked up,” he explains, hand reaching up to grip into the nape of his mate’s neck, fingers tangling with niall’s soft hair, pressing their mouths together again.

you feel your skin getting increasingly prickly, listening to them talk, the way they speak to each other, the way their bodies react without much realization on either of their parts. how niall’s cock gave a particularly hard thrust at louis’ revelation.

“tell him,” you murmur breathily, head tipping back against niall’s neck again. “tell him what gets you worked up.”

“feeling you,” niall sighs without much thought, any concerns washed away the moment your little conversation happened earlier. “knowing it’s you. i don’t know. just fuck, feeling you.”

“s’that so ?” louis hums around a smirk, ecstatic to find out he’s not the only one with a weakness, something he’s definitely going to use to his advantage now. right now, apparently, as his hips roll in a way that lines up his prick with your sweet spot, while also gliding along niall’s entire length.

you breathe around a moan, your body falling forward towards louis’ once again, elbows resting on his shoulders for support, hands tangling into his soft hair, mouth colliding with his.

at the same time, niall’s hands instinctually reach forward, nails leaving indents into louis’ skin, gripped on his hips, “fuckin christ lou, gonna make me cum like that.”

louis smirks against your lips, rolling his hips in the same way, feeling the tremble work its way through your body, niall’s grip tightening as groans rumble from his chest, eyes rolling back, breathy moans echoing through the bedroom.

“looks like m’getting both of you, hmm ?” louis mumbles, continuing his rhythm, enthralled by both of your reactions, egging him on to just keep going.

you bite into louis’ lip, whimpering louder, the fullness of their cocks, the constant bumping into your sweet spot, your skin’s prickling fiery heat, fuck you were going to cum too if he kept this up.

before you quite had the chance, thanks to a particularly slow, purposeful thrust, rolling louis’ cock against niall’s, tip catching on the head of his member, niall’s muscles seemingly crumbling, gasping, “christ, gonna make me cum louis. fuck.”

louis hadn’t really planned on doing it again, but the way niall just spoke, the desperation, the pleasure, the rawness seeping from his voice, he couldn’t help it. it just happened. and niall was cumming.

“fuck, yes. like that louis, just fucking like that-“ niall cuts himself off, gasping for air, as he literally feels the spasming of louis’ cock, bursts of hot cum joining his, filling you up more than you ever knew possible. and it was a fucking mess.

you were so full, so fucking full, dripping down onto louis’ thighs, the moment you’d just been privy to, playing like a tape in your mind, with the mix of their pants, their grunts in your ears, and their touches and their small ruts and the final little blurbs of cum, and christ it was so fucking good.

your cunt clamps down on their members, a body wretching shiver running through you, whiny moan bubbling from your lips, your head falling back to niall’s shoulder, body stretched, limp, exposed.

it was so fucking much. your head was already fuzzy, your body was already overheated, your cunt was already spasming so hard. and now everything was tenfold. you were panting to catch your breath, louis’ hands tracing soothing patterns on your thighs, niall’s fingers gliding all over your body, your arms, your chest, your breasts, your stomach. he knew. he always knew. christ you loved him.

it was far from the first time that you were slipping into subspace, something that niall was now expert in. something that made you infinitely more comfortable doing so. knowing wholeheartedly that you were taken care of. that you were safe.

and on the other hand, knowing exactly what makes you tick. knowing exactly how to keep you floaty, how to make you feel incredible, how to push you to your limit without crossing any sort of line.

you were so relaxed, so blissful, their fingers gliding deliciously, softly, random patterns, working you down until your breathing had returned to normal. as normal as it could be with two cocks still stuffed deep inside you. although not as hard as they once were.

“you ever going to admit that watching us together gets to you ?” louis hums quietly, not wanting to startle you, but needing an answer anyway. especially considering the secrets you forced out earlier. it’s a pattern he’d noticed, and he was ready for you to admit it.

you hum, a smile gracing your lips, nodding as you bite your lip, “mhmm, s’so fucking good. i’m so lucky. so fucking lucky.”

louis’ hands leave your hips, roaming up your sides, swirling around your breasts, watching the shiver follow along with his touches, fingers finally closing around your nipples, pulling on them, forcing you to lift your body from its perch against niall, bringing you forward to land right on louis’ lips.

one of his hands traces up to your neck, his palm resting against your jaw, fingertips tangled into a grip at your scalp, holding you tightly as he kisses you, hard. his other hand, still on your breast, thumb lightly flicking your nipple, before gripping it again. “m’the lucky one. privy to this. to you two. fuck,” he whispers, shaking his head, nose bumping against yours, pressing his lips to yours again, feeling niall’s breath against his cheek.

louis turns his head, niall’s mouth waiting for his, a quick, breathless kiss, niall’s teeth sinking into the plushness of louis’ lower lip, tugging with purpose, to watch it snap back into place.

“help me make her squirt,” niall hums, smirking at louis, “think she deserves it.”

niall leans your body back against his, using your pliancy to his advantage tonight, exposing you once again, giving a proper squeeze to your tits, hands gripping and massaging their way down your sides and your stomach, to your hips, and then disappearing completely.

and then landing a solid slap to your clit.

you whimper out loudly, your pussy clenching hard on their pricks, gaining a breathy moan from louis, “fucking christ, i should have known,” he fixes his gaze to your cunt, watching in awe, “this make you squirt, love ?”

without giving you an opportunity to answer, in words that is, niall lands another spank, directly on your clit. and another. and another. and one more, only this time, significantly harder than the rest. and it was followed by a loud gasping mewl, and a gush of warm liquid cascading onto louis’ lower half.

you were slipping further with every single slap that landed on your sensitive button. the painful sting, quickly followed by a rush of pleasure. one that spread like an electric zap through your entire being.

louis groans, watching you, watching the way niall’s taking care of you, watching the drip drip dripping of your cunt, feeling the clench, feeling the tip of niall’s fingertips against the base of his cock with every spank. fuck. he’s getting hard again.

“my turn to get both of you,” niall chuckles breathily, feeling louis’ prick harden again.

both of their members were stiffening, chubbing up and stretching your inner walls all over again. “getting yourself too,” louis mumbles, moaning softly around every clench of your pussy.

niall lands a particularly hard slap, the echo of skin hitting wet skin reverberating through the bedroom, another strong spurt of arousal leaving your cunt, body trembling against niall’s.

“fuckin hell,” louis groans loudly, watching your face, watching your cunt, watching your body, christ he didn’t know where to keep his eyes, “might actually cum again, fuck.”

“do it,” you whine, “please, please, fuck, please, do it. wanna be so full, so fucking full of both of you.” you were slightly incoherent, babbling over and over again, so lost in them. lost in how fucking perfect they managed to make you feel. both of them. together.

“can you ?” louis asks niall breathily, sitting himself back up straighter, his cock painfully hard, used, weepy, and yet screaming for another orgasm.

“can’t imagine another outcome right now,” niall rasps chestily, “s’so fuckin tight, louis.” because it was, somehow, tighter than before. did they grow thicker ? were you spasming harder ? did they cum that much ?

and fuck, they were really contemplating filling you up more. cumming in you a second time. mixing more into you, adding on to what was already smothered inside you. it was fucking filthy.

niall wanted it. fuck it, he was greedy. and you were in such a giving mood whenever you were in this state. besides, his prick was screaming for relief and he needed to do something more to reach it. so he grasps louis’ wrist and brings it to your exposed neck, louis’ fingers wrapping expertly around your throat.

your muscles instantly go limp, breathing coming in small pants, your brain floated so high up above you, skin prickling with need and want and heat, every primal bone in your body taking over.

you could feel the roughness of the callouses on niall’s fingertips, stroking gently over and over and over and over your clit, in persuasive circles. you could feel the tightness in the grip of louis’ hand, wrapped deliciously around your throat, stopping the airflow from reaching your brain, somehow sending you floating even higher than you already were.

your thighs began to tremble, finding it increasingly harder to hold yourself up, gasping breaths coming out in small pants between the squeezes around your neck. and with niall’s cock starting to rut into you, your body gave out, falling limp against louis, the force sending him down as well.

his grip falls from your throat in the process, louis’ lips immediately suctioning to yours, starting to lose himself with the new constant slow, deep thrusts of niall’s length, rutting up against his own.

but niall needed to cum again, his prick was spent, crying out for this tight fit to reach its end. although he loved this, loved being stuffed side by side with louis into your most beautiful, willing, sopping hole, it’s all starting to teeter on painful.

he reaches forward, his hand looping around your throat, picking you back up by your neck, leaning you against his body for support.

a loud whimpery moan gets caught in your throat, eyes rolling back as you get pulled and positioned however they want, the new angle bumping niall’s cock so deliciously inside you.

“cum for us,” niall rasps in your ear, his other hand landing a final, swift smack to your clit.

your cunt instantly clamps down on their cocks, a mess of arousal and orgasms, gushing from your destroyed pussy, dripping down to the already soaked mattress beneath louis’ hips.

you could barely hear them groan and moan as they came, your ears ringing so loudly. but you could feel everything. absolutely everything. right down to the microscopic indents that are your fingerprints. everything just felt. the overbearing fullness inside you with the numerous loads of cum. the stretch to accommodate both their cocks. the soft gliding of fingertips on your throat, on your thighs and hips. the gentle puffs of air against your cheek and shoulder.

the calling of niall’s voice reached you first, with comforting pecks of his lips against the side of your neck, right close to your ear, “gotta slip out, petal. s’too much,” he murmurs breathily, almost painfully so, as his prick is slowly slipped out from you. and it made you crumble.

the sudden loss of fullness, the sudden gush of everyone’s highs running down your thighs, causing a whiny hiss to leave your lips, as your muscles collapse, making you fall forward towards louis again.

you barely register louis’ question, “are you alright, love” falling on deaf ears, your body simply taking over. arms wrapped around his neck, forehead resting against his, slotting your lips together in a slow, heated kiss.

it felt different. louis couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it was definitely different. it wasn’t sexually charged, it wasn’t excitement, it wasn’t teasing. it was so soft. so fucking soft. and gentle, and smooth, and slow, and loving. it was passionate. and it felt wrong ?

louis’ lips leave yours momentarily, his forehead resting against yours, eyes flicking over to the side, catching niall’s, who’s now sitting next to the both of you, fingertips grazing soothingly along your back.

niall catches his gaze, offering him a small smile, “y’alright ?”

“this feels-“ louis cuts himself off, unsure of how to put it to his best friend. your boyfriend. fuck.

“s’okay,” niall nods, louis quickly cutting him off, “but ni-“ and louis gets cut off by a small chuckle coming from his mate.

“s’alright lou, she needs you right now,” niall murmurs, noticing louis’ eyes close as your lips make their way back to his. “she trusts you, mate,” he continues, “and she loves you tons. and i know you trust and love her too. and you know i do too. m’right here, s’okay.”

and so, with permission from his best mate, louis lets himself fall into it. lets himself take advantage of this time with you. lets himself feel some of the emotions he’s tucked very far away, under lock and key. lets his fingers map out every inch of your skin. lets his lips eagerly suck up the tenderness of the moment. lets his tongue smooth over your tiny squeaks.

without taking much notice, your hips started to grind slow circles, still seated comfortably on louis’ cock.

“can’t possibly want more,” niall murmurs next to you, shamelessly enjoying the view, noticing the movement in your hips.

“s’nice,” you answer, lips ghosting louis’ own, as he wraps his arms tightly around your waist, holding you into position, halting your movements.

“i can’t lovely,” he whispers, his forehead resting against your own, eyes peering into yours as he speaks, “m’sorry, s’too much.”

he notices the slight disappointment etch itself into your features. a look on your face, he never wants to see again. especially knowing he’s the cause. so he kisses over the edges of your lips, turning them back up. kisses over the small patch of skin between your eyebrows, lessening the furrows. kisses over the corner of your eyes, relaxing the creases, murmuring as he goes, “beautiful girl, so fucking good for us, you perfect girl.”

“c’mon, pet,” niall whispers, his hands on your hips, helping you lift yourself from your seat on louis’ prick, laying you down comfortably next to him.

louis sits himself up more, looking over your spent body, trying to control the bursting in his heart at the moment he just experienced with you. watching the dips in your skin, all of them etched to his memory from his touchy escapade just minutes ago.

niall’s eyes are zeroed in on your cunt, your legs spread wide, pussy heated, and throbbing, welcoming the cool air in the room, too far gone to be embarrassed.

his mouth waters at the sight, wanting nothing more than to soothe you in a way you both revel in. “can i ?” he mumbles, knowing that you understand what he’s implying. it sure wasn’t the first time.

“mhmm,” you hum, nodding, your body relaxing at the mere thought.

niall notices the questioning glance louis is shooting him, giving him a smirky nod towards your cunt, “s’for comfort. nothing more.” and that’s the only explanation he gives before dipping down, tongue taking a slow, tentative lick through your folds.

a tremor works its way through you, your cunt so overly used. and yet, you couldn’t imagine anything feeling better. it was so soft, so smooth, so sweet, so caring. a stark contrast to the painful sting of pussy spanks, and being stretched and filled more than your body knew possible.

on instinct, your legs spread open wider, hips lifting only slightly in an effort to chase niall’s tongue. “s’my girl,” he murmurs with a smile, taking another soothing lick.

louis watches attentively, swallowing down the tiniest ping of jealousy at the words “my girl,” something else he will tuck away under lock and key and forget about entirely. he does wish to stay sane, and nothing about this random outburst of envious desire screams sanity. he’s never felt that with you or with niall, and he refuses it. he needs to.

“never been one to turn down a taste,” niall hums, pulling louis from his intrusive thoughts. “everything alright tommo ?”

“yeah, yeah, m’fine,” louis smiles, shaking his head, quickly dipping down for a lick, scooping up the most delicious blend of cum he’s ever tasted. he’s starting to think it’s a sign. if the three of you taste so good, it must- no. fuck. fuck, no. it must nothing.

“fuck, i love you,” niall murmurs, leaning over you to press his lips to yours, allowing you a bit of a taste as well. “you’re so fucking good for us.”

“perfect,” louis pipes up, eyes locking with yours for a moment, “she’s fucking perfect.”

Part 5

……

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

tags : @cc-horan28 @gorlsinmultifandoms

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mcondance · 1 month

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southern fantasy

— this is indulgently a self-ship. | reader is explicitly and beautifully Black southern (specifically from louisiana). this is literally the definition of “i wrote this for myself, but you can read it too.” | no smut 😱 | hotch got me writing fluff yall do you know how out of character this is for me? | inspired by @murdrdocs’s persisting southern enthusiasm with her characters | story is non-linear mostly, just snapshots if you wanna call it that

1.2k words of fluff and southern fantasy, ft hotch. a love letter to my state, and to hotch.

in the car, hotch’s finger taps in time against the steering wheel, sliding gracefully into the rhythm of the song rumbling out of the stereo. the sun is setting, casting a glow over his face, outlining his prominent nose and cheeks, lighting up the smile on his face.

southern skies are beautiful when you’ve got hotch to see them with.

the south is your home, your territory, your space. hotch, on the other hand, is new. he was fresh, but he’s fit in so well. the difference in birthplaces was stark, at the start, hotch’s eyes gaining a youthful glow every time you showed him a green bayou or took him to a gas station in the middle of nowhere with chicken and meat pies so hot he laughed through the burn.

he still sees everything like it’s new, eyes surveying the small towns you take him through, telling him you have family from here or there, about how your dad knows someone from here and your mom’s childhood friend lives here now. but he’s experienced, has a thing for the nights when it’s quiet out, when even in your bed he can hear the crickets chirping just outside the window.

he likes the drives, the rolling roads and graveled streets and towns that pop up here and there. the breaks in trees that reveal a church, the yellow, faded Dollar General signs and the pastures with cows and horses grazing away.

the towns are his favorite, though. small and cozy, one store for everyone, a mom & pop shop, a church.

lousiana summers are hot, bright and burning and, with the proper precautions, he can enjoy you in the sunshine. under the shade of pecan trees, a distance away from the playground, you sit across him on a checkered blanket, and it looks the image of a picnic date, your dress loose and flowing.

the nights are his favorite, too. you’d both picked a house on the edge of town, half an hour away from the nearest big store, where it’s more practical to hit a market or a gas station than drive to Walmart.

so at night, when it gets dark, it gets dark. he’s never seen the stars so clear until he met you. you and your southern wit entranced him and are still entrancing him now. he likes the subtle differences, the different ways you go about things.

and if he’s being honest, your drawl makes his head spin. he hangs on your words, on the elongated syllables and sour twang and how your accent grows deeper when you’re angry about something, or when you’re so excited your words twist and curl around themselves.

he can’t help but poke fun at you for it sometimes, when you’re speaking normally and a word comes out a little more flavored than the others.

he repeats it to you in his own voice, laughing as you scold him, saying he knew you were country when he met you.

“i did,” he concedes, and it’s like a gut-punch every time he speaks with such fondness about anything related to the relationship you two have shared.

you showed him a different kind of southern, one that isn’t horses and cowboy boots, but parties with familiar songs and a city where everyone knows everyone, nights with fireflies, and foxes you just barely catch glimpses of, rap groups proclaiming their pride in their southern heritage and experiences you only know if you’ve been here.

he’s learned some party songs, and you’ve taught him the dances. he’s so comfortable with them now that he can do them with his arms draped over your shoulders, leaning into the groove as the family you welcomed him into enjoys themselves around him.

he’s a dream at the backyard parties. he lets the kids bounce him on the trampoline, and hang off his shoulders, and pretends like he doesn't see your little cousins sneaking up on him with water guns that look more like water bazookas.

“you know, if that thing isn’t registered, i could confiscate it,” he jokes, dripping with water and too entertained to even fein professionalism.

your cousins shriek with delight, running off to no doubt refill their guns and attack him again.

he’s got rhythm, for a white guy, still awkward but endearing and he’s got enough to make the line dances fun. he claims his favorite is a toss up between “cupid shuffle” and “candy,” but it’s obvious what he leans toward more. he hears the bassline of “candy” and he’s rising out of his chair with a beer in his hand and turning to pull you up too, dancing you backwards into the mass of your family.

your love for him grows with every party you attend, with every dramatic slap he delivers to the ground.

he watches you run and play with your siblings, grown but morphing into the children in the pictures hanging on the walls of the house, your dress soft and purple and flowing and he falls further in love when he hears you scream “stop, i’m not playin’ with you,” all country and playful and beautiful.

inside, squeezed up beside you on a chair, the darkness of night falling over the party and moving everyone inside, his heart is light. he goes back for more plates than he’s proud of, pretending like he doesn’t hear a cousin or aunt giggling at you as he walks away with the promise of bringing you more lemonade.

he’s grown accustomed to the hour long goodbyes, where he’s still talking to your dad or brother about something or the other with his keys dangling in his hand and you talking to your aunt as she plates and wraps up another bowl of her banana pudding.

and the drives. god, the drives. he traded his big truck in for a lowrider at your request, an old car from the 70s that’ll fall apart before it needs to hit the shop. he’s navigated this road more times than he can count, knows what gas station is where and when to look out for the nasty bends and twists that are so prevalent back here.

there’s a CD labeled with yours and hotch’s name in the player, fashioned with hearts all around and a plus between the two names. the sunset flows in through the window, eclipsing hotch’s face and molding him so perfectly with the sky you swear he belongs there.

high and happy, the gas station stop is silly, you fill the small space up with your laughs and chopped up words and hotch laughs with you, finding humor in the smallest things with you.

there’s soft conversation and snacking and feeding him food, him trying and holding his own on a particularly difficult song. he slows the car down, at times, cruises way under the limit cause he just wants to look at you, wants to indulge in the sight of you while he listens to you speak in that tone he can’t get enough of.

he really can’t get over your accent. he gets wrapped up in the push and pull of it, the lows and the highs and the way you sometimes sound like a southern belle, sweet-talking him into staying in bed another hour or hitting the store nearest your house for a drink.

his ears perk up when he hears the subtle (and sometimes, not so subtle) inflection, the way you say “baby,” how his name sounds different from your mouth. he’s wrapped up in a southern girl, in the life he’s grateful to have been given.

southern nights with hotch, through the window of a car or in a closed-in porch on a house in the middle of nowhere, are a dream. a fantasy.

#hotch x reader #hotch fluff #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotchner x black reader #aaron hotchner x black!reader #aaron hotchner fluff #hotch x y/n #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #— 🎠

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strangersteddierthings · 1 year

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Writing Prompt for this list, requested by @suddenlyinlove. #42. "His ego is so visible; I can almost watch it grow." and #30. “Can I sit here? The other tables are full.”

Details - This is an AU with a twist I don't wanna spoil so like... suspend your disbelief please. Period-typical homophobia and thus, the use of slurs derogatorily. Stir clear if that is triggering.

Posted on Ao3 because it is long (9.7k) and it might be easier to read there for some.

August 25, 1984 - Two Days Before the Start of School

There's a good view of the whole party from their dark corner of the yard, where Jeff, Gareth, and Brian are huddled around him. Eddie'd told Carol Perkins he'd show but only if his friends could come, too. If she wanted weed, then his friends could have beer.

Plus, if he was going to suffer, they were going to suffer. That's what friendship was about.

"His ego is so visible; I can almost watch it grow," Eddie mutters, glaring in the general direction of Steve 'The Hair' Harrington as he laughs at something (he's clutching his beer awfully tight for someone having fun- Nope, Eddie doesn't care).

"Right? Can see it ballooning right before our eyes," Jeff says. This is why Jeff is his best friend. They hate on the same things. People. Whatever.

"Sorry for you guys," Eddie fakes sympathy, "once I graduate, I won't have to deal with it. Let me know if anyone shoves you into a locker though. I'll slash some tires or refuse to sale 'em weed. Whichever hurts them more."

"You said that last year," Gareth says. "And yet."

Eddie pretends to stab himself in the heart, falling to the ground dramatically, gasping like he was dying before finally stilling, staring as unblinking as he could at the sky.

Jeff nudges him with his foot, "good riddance, Munson. People will remember you weirdly."

Eddie breaks character to grin up, lifting a hand that Jeff takes and helps pull him up. "Remembered weirdly is what it's all about."

"Speaking of weird, Harrington's being... weird," Gareth says, tilting his head slightly, still looking in the direction they'd all been looking at just moments before. "When you just dropped he like... I dunno. Weird."

"What, weird how. What did he do?" Eddie whips to look at Harrington, who is looking back, looking worried, and is slightly closer than he was before. Eddie watches as Harrington's eyes track his entire self, looking for what, Eddie can't even begin to understand. He can visibly see the tension leave Harrington's body, pretty sure even his friends clocked that (even though they have less experience in the Harrington-watching department than himself).

"When you dropped, he like... rushed forward. I think he caught how fucking weird that would be for him to do 'cause he stopped just as quickly. That's weird, right?"

"Really fucking weird."

Harrington steps back into his friend group, more on the outside than he was before. (Did seem like people loved Hargrove a bit more than Harrington these days).

Eddie and his friends go back to trash talking everyone they can set their eyes on. It's easy to do, what with being ignored in the corner again. Occasionally Eddie is flagged down by someone, or they try and make eye contact (which is worse), so he huffs as though put upon and marches off to a different corner of the Perkins' backyard to sale his contraband.

(If he's marking it up, well, these rich kids can afford it.)

Anyway, their trash talk always seems to come back to Harrington. None of them acknowledge it out loud but Harrington's the easiest to shit talk in public because he's the safest. He's egotistical, kinda airheaded, and an asshole, but in a different way than Hagan or Jackson or most of the other jocks.

Harrington is the kind of asshole that you introduce yourself to 15 times and unless you're 'popular' he doesn't bother to remember he's already met you. Hagan and Jackson are assholes that give you a swirlee if you sneeze wrong near them, or will call you a fag before gut punching you behind the bleachers because they think they caught you staring at them (which Eddie was not ((It was Harrington he was staring at)).

He's safe to shit talk because he doesn't get physical (couldn't win a fight if the rumors were true (Also they all saw how he looked after Jonathan got him)) and rarely gets confrontational (less so with each passing year). Eddie thinks that's his ego - he's so full of himself that anything you say about him can't possibly affect him. (What are the words of a peasant in the face of a king, after all?)

That's not to say they haven't fucked up and said something at just the right time to provoke Harrington in the past, because they all have, but it's typically his lackeys that jump in defense, that say something first to defend Harrington. And The King will let them bark and growl just enough to put the peasants back in their place, calming his dogs with words of 'they're not worth it' and 'if what he said meant anything it would have hurt, wouldn't it?' which is just rude. Like Eddie and his friends aren't even people capable of drawing Harrington's attention, much less his wrath.

If Eddie's honest with himself (he's not), he would stop to question why he even wants to provoke a reaction from Harrington (it's because of his stupid crush), but Eddie's not honest so...

The point is, they feel pretty comfortable trash talking Harrington in hushed whispers to themselves in a corner of Carol Perkins' yard.

"Do you think he, like, genuinely thinks he looks cool when he does that?" Gareth whispers as they watch Harrington shotgun a beer, again.

"Dunno, probab-" Jeff cuts himself off, a quizzical expression on his face as he turns his head to look towards the Perkins' house. He's got ears that pick up everything, so Eddie just watches as he moves away from the group to the fence. Watches as Jeff jumps to look over. When he lands, he flips quickly back to them, looking between them and the group of party goers. He takes a moment, assessing his options it seems, before cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting, "Cops in bound! Just turned onto the street!"

The party starts scattering instantly, teens running in all directions.

Brian and Gareth eye the back fence and Eddie knows immediately they're not going to jump it. Eddie throws Gareth the keys to his van, "get Jeff and go."

They don't argue, they've done this song and dance before. Eddie knows they might get a stern talking to for smelling like beer but if Eddie's in the van with them, they're all ending up in jail because of what's in his lunchbox. (Hell, they'd still get a night in jail instead of just a warning for the beer if Eddie's in the van without the lunchbox).

Eddie's not the most athletic but he's gotta run. He tosses his lunchbox over the back fence before hauling himself up, one leg over and trying to get the other when he gets high-centered for a moment before gravity starts to pull him down (thankfully on the correct side of the fence) only to find the chain on his jeans catches along something at the top, leaving him to cling quickly to the fence, praying he can muster enough upper body strength to haul himself back up enough to unstick the chain before the cops get here. He tries to readjust and his hand slips, he can't get any leverage. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

He's so screwed. Officer Callihan said if he was caught again, he'd be tried as an adult. Wayne's going to kill him. Why won't these stupid jeans just rip, how has the chain not given way yet? He's going to get caught with his lunchbox right at his feet. He's-

Being shoved back up, someone's shoulder digging painfully into his ribcage to get the leverage needed for Eddie's body to be high enough for the stranger's hand to sneak up and unstick the chain. Eddie expects to be dumped suddenly and unceremoniously on the ground but this does not happen. Instead, his mysterious hero manages to keep him pinned up on the fence long enough to turn themselves so both of the stranger's arms are under Eddie and then they kind of just... sink together, using the fence as a counterweight by leaning into but not actually dragging Eddie down against it.

The culmination of which ends with Eddie being held like some blushing bride in Steve Harrington's lap. Eddie opens his mouth to say... something. What, he doesn't know, but Harrington lifts a finger to his lips to signal him to be quiet. So, he stays quiet, heart pounding.

It takes about five full seconds before the sounds of the cops busting the party actually start, the sirens on the cars flipping on to let the scattering teens know they've been caught. In that same instance, Harrington sweeps up Eddie's lunch box and shoves it onto his chest, where one of Eddie's hands comes up to wrap around and hold it close on instinct, the sound the metal handle clanging on the metal lid meaningless in all the other sounds happening.

Using his other hand, Harrington basically folds Eddie forward and out of his lap, back on his own feet in a crouch. Harrington shoves his chin forward, a silent instruction to move but Eddie's still wrapping his head around the fact he's no longer dangling from a wooden fence like an idiot, so Harrington steps forward, a hand wrapping around the wrist of Eddie's free hand, forcing him to follow along as they stealth along the wooden fence of the Perkins' residence, then the fence of the neighbors, and finally a third neighbor before the fences run off and all that's left is the woods that boarder the town one way, and a way back to the road on the other.

Eddie should pull his wrist free and book it, run as fast and as far from Harrington and this party as he can get but he's kind of star struck right now (he can be a little honest with himself, as a treat). He just follows, lets Harrington jerk him around (don't even think it Munson, do not think about it-) and follows quietly.

Harrington peeks around the end of the fence, looking for any incoming trouble, Eddie assumes, and quickly jerks back, looking to Eddie, "you trust me, man?"

And Eddie, the idiot, says, "Yeah, man."

Harrington grabs his lunchbox, ripping it away from him with ease (Eddie's still star struck, okay?) and shoves it up against the fence, twisting his body as he does, so he ends up sitting with his back to this fence, body blocking sight of the lunchbox before pulling Eddie into his lap.

This is what brings Eddie back into his body. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Just don't punch me until I get the cop that's gonna round the fence any time now to go away."

Eddie could bolt but he's not particularly fast, so he'd be caught, and he knows the odds. Between himself and Harrington, they'll book him and let Harrington go with a warning. So, Harrington thinks he can get the cop to go away? Okay. He lets Harrington manhandle him (don't think it don'tthinkit don't-) He's absolutely thinking it because Harrington grabs his ass and pulls him flush against him before a hand cups the back of his head and shoves his face into Harrington's neck, and then Harrington whispers in his ear, "just pretend we've been making out back here for the last half hour."

Fuck! Harrington's trying to get him shot by the goddamn police. He is an idiot and should have known better than to trust him. Well. If Harrington thinks he can get away from this unscathed, he's sorely mistaken. Eddie lifts his hands to ruffle Harrington's perfect hair before gripping it roughly with one hand, the other moving to brace himself on the fence, then he latches onto Harrington's neck, intent on giving Harrington the biggest, ugliest hickie of his life. Try and explain that away you asshole.

Except Harrington's reaction isn't what Eddie had thought it would be. Instead of being shoved, the hands on his ass and in his hair squeeze, seemingly trying to get Eddie closer and that is definitely a moan his hears, breathed directly into his ear. It eggs Eddie on a bit, truthfully, so he pulls back a little, less set on just marking Harrington and a little more set on seeing if he can make Harrington actually enjoy it.

Eddie presses kisses over the bit of skin he'd just bit like a wild animal and runs his tongue up to gently pull at Harrington's earlobe, before kissing his way back down to suck at the same spot some more. Harrington keeps switching from squeezing at him to petting him and Eddie's not really going to complain. The police can come shoot him. He'll die- well, not happy but at least alright.

"Jesus Christ, kid!"

Eddie tries to jerk away, a reflex because that's Chief Hopper's voice and he's so fucking screwed, but Harrington keeps him moored there, face hidden, hand cradling his head more gently than it has been thus far, the hand on his ass moving up to his lower back, holding him closer... dare he say, protectively.

"Hopper," Harrington sounds more calm than Eddie thought he would, "hi."

Eddie wishes he could see what is happening because there is an awful lot of silence going on in which he can only assume Hopper and Harrington are staring at each other. (Having a silent conversation, perhaps?)

Then the heaviest sigh he's ever heard from Chief Hopper (and he's heard some heavy ones in his days) greets the air, "I don't want to know who that is. Just this once, I am going to pretend I didn't see you here. You'd think that you would learn- Next time you and your boyfriend sneak away from a party to- just go to his house. Jesus, if it had been anyone but me walking around this corner... Give it about twenty minutes before you leave." The sound of retreating footsteps and Hopper's voice reporting in his walkie an 'all clear' follow those words.

They don't part immediately. Eddie waits until the footsteps cannot be heard before pulling back. Harrington makes no move to remove his hands from Eddie's person, so as a result the hand that was in Eddie's hair falls to his shoulder, then his chest, where it rests now that he's back far enough to look at Harrington. The moon is bright, and Eddie's eyes have adjusted to the dark of the evening, so he can see Harrington's face. "How the fuck did that just work?"

Harrington gives an almost hysterical sounding giggle before he tries to drop his head back to rest on the fence. He can't successfully do that, because Eddie realizes he's still cradling Harrington's head with one hand.

He makes no motion to move his hand, just holds Harrington's head up as he seems to be going through... something right now.

It takes several minutes, but finally he speaks. "It's kinda personal. Let's just say, Hopper and I got history, a- well, a good history isn't how I'd put it, but like, we're on the same page with it."

"Did you fuck Hopper?"

Harrington laughs out loud and Eddie slaps his other hand (the one not currently petting his soft, soft hair) over his mouth to muffle the noise. That sobers Harrington a little, remembering the 'wait twenty minutes' thing and once it seems like he's got it together again, Eddie removes his hand.

"No. Nothing like that with Hopper."

Eddie's a bit hung up on that fact Harrington is not immediately shouting that he's not a fag and would never have slept with the chief of police, a man. "You're really not gonna tell me."

"No."

They just kind of look at each other after that. Eddie's not sure what to do now. He should get out of Harrington's lap, right? That's a thing he should definitely be doing right now.

But.

But Harrington isn't shoving him off. In fact, his eyes are half closed as he stares at Eddie, eyes occasionally flicking up to meet his own, so Eddie feels like he can confidently say King Steve is looking at his lips. Eddie licks his lips, a test of sorts.

Harrington passes, because his tongue flicks out to lick his own lips.

"Hey, Eddie," (what the fuck. Harrington has never, not once, said his name, and Eddie has re-introduced himself several times.) "I want to kiss you. Can I?"

Oh.

Eddie's never been asked that before.

Gross. Eddie's got fucking butterflies in his stomach from Steve fucking Harrington.

Eddie wants to say yes so fucking bad but- well, his whole world view of Steve Harrington has just been rocked and now a ball of guilt is forming inside him for how he's marked up Harrington's neck like a wanton slut and Harrington asks for a kiss. But Harrington is also, at minimum, five beers in plus the weed, so he's clearly not thinking straight (ha fucking ha) because he wouldn't be asking him for a kiss if he was.

"No," Eddie says softly, "you're drunk. If you still wanna kiss me in the daylight, ask then."

Harrington scrunches his face and Eddie doesn't know him well enough to decipher what that look means, but he nods, sitting up so he can lean forward and nuzzle his face into Eddie's chest, bumping the top of his head against Eddie's chin like a cat.

Eddie leans his head atop Harrington's and lets himself be cuddled.

What a weird fucking night.

"Jeff!" Eddie flings himself on his friend's couch the next day, face down in the cushions, his voice mumbled as he continues, "I don't know what to do."

Jeff, ever patient with Eddie, just folds his legs at the knee and sits on the couch, dropping his legs back down and into his lap. "The way I see it, you do nothing."

"Nothing?"

"You sound extra pathetic mumbling into the couch. Nothing. If Harrington wants to kiss you, he'll ask again. If he doesn't, or tries to turn this on you, remind him he's the one that let another boy mark him up. You don't know if you can trust him."

Eddie musters all his strength to turn his head to the side so he can breath again. "You're right. As usual."

"Try not to sound so annoyed and disappointed."

"I should trust the Munson doctrine. If it's too good to be true, then it's not true," Eddie says as he wiggles forward, out of Jeff's lap and onto his knees, shuffling around until he's sitting cross-legged on the center cushion.

"Maybe, maybe not. Like, we know Harrington's an asshole but he's not mean," Jeff says. "besides, maybe being dumped by Nancy Wheeler for Jonathan Byers might have shaken some decency into him. Humility, even."

Suppose they'll learn if that's true tomorrow. "You can't tell anyone what I told you."

"Duh. Blackmail only works if the leverage you have is still a secret."

“Can I sit here? The other tables are full.”

Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, and Brian all look up at the same time. Harrington isn't even holding a lunch tray, hands in the pockets of his letterman jacket, striped polo tucked into light wash jeans under his opened jacket, Eddie's hickie only half hidden by the polo's collar.

Eddie's eyes scan the cafeteria quickly. Hawkins is a small town, so it stands to reason the schools are too. There are literal, completely empty tables. So, Eddie's eyes go to the table Harrington usually sits at.

Ah.

Everyone there is looking over. Watching. Waiting, probably. This is the trick. The joke. If Eddie lets him sit, they've pegged him for the desperate fag they all tell him he is.

"'Fraid this table is full, too," Eddie says, careful to sound bored as he says it, looking directly at Harrington.

Harrington's eyes widen slightly, like he hadn't expected Eddie to deny him. Well, joke backfired, buddy.

"I.... see," Harrington says slowly. "My mistake."

And they all watch him leave with such little fanfare that Eddie's wondering if he misread the situation. Was Harrington actually wanting to sit with them- but no. He watches as Harrington returns to his table, to the royalty of Hawkins High. Hagan says something to him and Harrington just shrugs with one shoulder before plopping onto the bench.

They wait for Harrington to start up conversation, for the leering and mocking to start up but it doesn't. Harrington just sits there in silence.

"What... was that?" Gareth asks, looking away from the Royalty to look at Eddie.

"Got no idea," Eddie lies, even as Jeff is leveling him with a look he refuses to acknowledge.

November 7th, 1984

Harrington was absent yesterday (not that Eddie keeps track) and now here Harrington is, slinking into the American History class they share for first period, face busted to shit. Eddie does a double take because he thinks his eyes are playing tricks on him but no. Harrington looks worse than when Jonathan got him.

Eddie spends the first twenty minutes of class just watching Harrington. Harrington slides into his chair and keeps his head down, eyes closed most of the time. Every now and then he winces and drops his head into his hands, palms digging into eyes. He looks bad.

Then Harrington goes a little green around the gills and looks like he's forcing himself to swallow down vomit and Eddie's done watching the sad display. "Hey, Miss Click, I think Harrington's gonna lose his breakfast all over the back of Thompson if he doesn't get outta here soon."

Miss Click looks like she's gonna give him detention again but then she looks at Harrington and must agree with his assessment. "Help him to the nurses office, Eddie."

Normally Eddie would argue but Harrington is also looking at him now and he really wants to know what happened so instead of arguing, he stands. Harrington does, too, grabbing his bag from the floor and shuffling towards the door.

The halls are empty and Steve makes it maybe ten feet down the hall before he falls against the lockers, shutting his eyes tightly.

"Come on, Harrington," Eddie grabs his backpack from him and shoulders it, then pulls one of Harrington's arms around him. "Just keep your eyes closed. I won't walk you into any walls."

"Thanks."

It's so quiet, Eddie's not sure he was even meant to hear it. They walk in silence a bit more before Eddie asks, "so, what happened?"

"Nothing."

"Oh, sure. Nothing causes this all the time."

"What'd'ya care."

Fair. That's fair. He shut Harrington down quickly at the beginning of the year. And Eddie's had plenty of time to concede it might have been the wrong thing to do. Harrington really wasn't setting him up to be a joke, or a punching bag, because if he had been, Eddie would have been jumped by now. Especially since it's fairly common knowledge that Harrington has fallen from grace, replaced by Billy Hargrove. A whole asshole and a half, that one.

They're silent all the way to nurse and even after Harrington vanishes behind the door, Eddie loiters in the hall. He doesn't care about getting back to class. Whatever is happening with Harrington is so much more important.

Another period later and Harrington is shoving himself through the door, even as the nurse protests behind him.

"I'll be fine, really. I'm sure my mom's not answering because she's not near the phone. There's no need to worry," Harrington catches sight of Eddie then. He looks surprised, but says to the nurse, "Eddie here will drive me home. I promise I won't be driving with a concussion."

She looks past Harrington to Eddie and he finds himself nodding frantically. The nurse, not paid enough to argue with teenagers, nods back and Harrington escapes back into the hall without argument.

"You need a ride?"

"I can drive myself."

"Absolutely not. You just said you were concussed."

Harrington looks like he wants to argue more but before he can, he folds a bit into himself, hands pressing into eyes again.

"Look, I owe you anyway, alright. Let me repay."

There's a long silence, then, "okay."

Eddie walks into Gareth's third period class and deposits the keys to his van to him with instructions to pick him up from Harrington's after school (Jeff is his best friend, but Gareth is the safer driver) before helping Harrington limp his way to his own car, where he hands over his keys very forlornly and climbs into his car. Eddie takes the driver's seat and they're off.

"You gonna give me directions, Harrington?"

"You've been to my house before."

This is true. He just didn't know Harrington remembered that. Hagan had invited Eddie to deal there, once; Harrington himself, twice. He didn't know Harrington had even remembered he was there. "Didn't know you remembered that."

"You've been to my house four times."

"Three."

Harrington lull his head to the side to squint (is he trying to glare?) at Eddie. "Four."

Four? Eddie didn't remember- oh. Harrington's ninth birthday party. Eddie was invited, one of the few who hadn't been in Harrington's class to get an invitation. He was in fifth grade, Harrington in fourth. It was shortly after Wayne had brought him to Hawkins.

"Your birthday party. Why'd you even invite me to that?"

Harrington doesn't answer.

"I thought you said your mom was home," Eddie says as he follows Harrington into his house.

"I lied."

"Clearly," Eddie says, looking around as he continues to follow Harrington upstairs.

Harrington just allows it, which Eddie wants to question but won't because he's working out how to apologize for the first day of school without apologizing.

"If you're here alone, who's waking you up to make sure you aren't dead?"

"No one. And clearly, I am not dead."

"Someone's supposed to wake you every few hours, right?"

Harrington shrugs. "Don't need anyone to. Why, were you gonna offer?"

Was he? No. Maybe. He follows him all the way to his plaid hellscape of a room, watches as Harrington flicks on his light, then tries to block the sunlight with his sad curtains and gives up quickly, opting to toe himself out of his shoes and crawl under his covers instead.

It's fucking pathetic.

Eddie leaves Harrington's room to start opening and closing doors around the upstairs. Rich people always have a- yes! A linen closet. Eddie pulls out the darkest towels and heads back to Harrington's room.

"You got tacks or nails or safety pins?"

Harrington pokes his head out from beneath his covers, squinting at Eddie. "Tacks in the cup on the dresser." then he disappears again. Quite an awfully lot of freedom Harrington seems to be giving him. He could be snooping through things.

He doesn't, though (yet). He uses almost all of the tacks to get the towels to stay up, but no sunlight breaches them when he's done. Then he turns off the light and closes the door, leaving it open just a crack, before sitting himself on the edge of Harrington's bed.

"I owe you an apology, Harrington," Eddie finds himself saying. Fuck. He was trying to do this without having to actually do it. Too late now.

"Oh," he hears in the near darkness Harrington's surprise, feels shuffling as Harrington must be moving to look at him. "Erm, why do you think you owe me an apology."

"For the first day of school. I thought- I thought it was a prank. Or a joke. A cruel one."

Eddie turns to see Harrington peering at him, just his nose and up visible, hair a static ruffled mess, the comforter held in place by one hand. "It wasn't."

"I know that now," Eddie whispers, picking at a loose thread on the comforter. "I just- I'm sorry. I did want you to sit."

Silence. Then, "I get it, Eddie. I wouldn't trust me either."

"I said I trusted you, that night," Eddie says, "and I did. I do? I think... I didn't trust myself, I think, enough to believe that you were truly being genuine with me. I was shitty to you. So, I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted," Harrington says, "I'm gonna go to sleep now, my head is killing me. If you're hungry help yourself to whatever you can find in the kitchen. You're missing lunch period."

"You gonna sleep in your jeans?"

"Too much work to remove 'em," Harrington mumbles.

"Undo your belt and jeans."

"How forward," Harrington has an eyebrow raised.

"Just do it, ya tool," Eddie says with more bravado than he feels. He slides off the bed and watches the comforter shift as Harrington does as he's told. Eddie rounds to the end of the bed, pulling up the comforter and reaching under blind, finding Harrington's legs and trailing up to his knees to grasp of the jeans. "For your modesty. Lift your hips." Harrington does, and Eddie pulls. Harrington drops his hips back down once the jeans are near his knees, lifting his legs slightly instead, allowing Eddie to pull them off and drop them on the floor at the end of the bed. "Alright, sleep it off, Harrington."

Eddie leaves him to wander to the kitchen because he is hungry and missing lunch, and this free food is going to be infinitely better than whatever the cafeteria was offering simply because it's free.

The fridge has some leftovers in it, so Eddie helps himself to leftover chicken and mashed potatoes. He eats it standing in the kitchen.

Once done, he explores Castle Harrington. A big kitchen leads to a dining room, which rounds to a large living room with a wall of windows that lookout to the pool. Eddie's familiar with the backyard, where he'd station up and wait for people to buy. There's a little hall that leads from the living room to the stairs and front door, with another hall alone the middle of the wall there. It leads to a bathroom and a rec room, complete with pool table (fucking rich people) and another door farther still. It's locked but Eddie's a snoop, so he flips the latch and opens. It's an empty garage.

Eddie ends up removing his shoes, denim vest, and leather jacket, flopping down on Harrington's couch to channel surf, though his eyes keep flicking down to his watch. At the one-hour mark he sneaks back up to Harrington's room and looks for signs of life. Easy enough, Harrington snores.

He checks each hour. Eventually Gareth shows up, signaling his arrival with three sharp jabs to the horn of Eddie's van. Eddie heads out without putting anything back on.

"I'm staying. Harrington is not- it's not good, dude," Eddie says. "Looks like he got beat worse than I did when took a chance behind The Hideout."

Gareth's eyes go wide. Eddie'd gotten beaten for being gay (a busted lip and bruised ribs; would have been worse if the owner of The Hideout hadn't been stepping out back to smoke and ended up chasing away Eddie's assailant). "What happened?"

Eddie shrugs. "Don't know. But I gotta find out. I think he was being genuine with us, on the first day of school. I feel like I have to make sure he's okay."

Jeff leans forward to peer around Gareth from the passenger seat. "You feeling guilty, Munson?"

This is a conversation they've had several times. One Eddie never wins. "Well, yeah. If I'd let him be our friend, he might not have been wherever he was when he got the shit beat out of him. Might have been watching us at band practice or something instead."

Gareth makes a gagging noise. "Ew. You've got it so bad for Harrington. Polos? That's what gets you hot and bothered?"

Eddie feels his face go red. "Fuck off."

"Don't fuck up this time, Eddie," Jeff says before sitting back out of view.

"Call if you need a ride to school tomorrow," Gareth says before reversing out of Harrington's driveway.

Eddie waits until Harrington's gotten a full eight hours (most of which he spends snooping about the place) before going to wake him up. "Hey, you gotta get some food in you, I think. Up, up."

Harrington groans, but it sounds more annoyed than pained.

"Up, up, up, up," Eddie repeats, swatting lightly at Harrington's legs, occasionally grabbing to jiggle a leg.

"'m up. I'm up," Harrington says, sounding more like himself than he has all day. "Have you always been this annoying?"

"Call it the Munson Charm."

"Charm," Harrington repeats flatly.

"I already ate your mashed potatoes, so I'm hoping you're not wanting those for dinner. Lunch? Whatever."

Harrington throws the covers off, standing before Eddie in a polo shirt and plaid boxers. "Hey, Eddie. It's still daytime out there, yeah?"

"Yeah, didn't miss it."

"Cool, cool. Can I kiss you?"

Eddie freezes, remembering that's what he'd told Harrington to do. Ask him in the daylight. He does still want to kiss Harrington, but also, he's afraid. "First you ask drunk. Now you ask concussed. Still a no, buddy. It's gotta be daylight and without anything that could be messing with your mind."

Harrington takes the rejection well, just nods an okay and motions towards his door for Eddie to lead the way to the kitchen.

Harrington opts for a TV dinner, offering one to Eddie. He accepts, because, again, free food. Then they eat them at the dinner table like it's a real meal, instead of off of TV trays in the living room like normal people.

And the odd thing about it all is how not odd all of it is, actually. The last time they were alone together, Eddie ravished his neck like a goddamn vampire. And now they're just hanging out, chatting ideally like it's a thing they do all the time.

Eddie can see why Harrington became popular so quickly. He's easy to like when he's like this, soft spoken and kind. Eddie finds he wants to know if the guy sitting across from him is the real Harrington, or an act. Or was King Harrington the act? Eddie really hasn't known him enough to say that but he's seen this house. Conformity seems important to the Harringtons.

"You looked like you could use something to cheer you up," Harrington says, out of left field.

"What?"

"It's why I invited you to my ninth birthday. You'd just transferred to our school. Looked so sad all the time. Eight-year-old me hadn't experienced a sad birthday party, so I thought it would cheer you up."

Oh. "That's-" what is that? Sweet? Considerate in a way Eddie didn't think young Harrington possible of? "It worked. Your party was fun."

Harrington smiles at him, a soft and shy thing that makes the butterflies erupt in his stomach again. "Well, thanks for watching over me today. Made it easier to sleep, having someone else in the house."

"Anytime."

"You mean that?"

Does he? Eddie can't promise even himself that it will always be true, that he does really mean anytime, but it's true right now so he says, "yeah, man."

Being friends with Steve Harrington is so much easier than Eddie thought it could be.

Steve -because he's Steve now, not Harrington- doesn't come back to school the rest of the week, but he makes Eddie go, asking if he can gather his homework from his classes so he won't fall behind. And school has never been a real priority for Eddie (it is his second senior year) but hanging out with Steve has become important.

Jeff, Gareth, and Brian even come over on Saturday evening, at Steve's insistence. He wants to be their friend, too, it seems. And what an odd thing to see, his friends and Steve lounging around his rec room, Brian beating all of them at pool so easily it should be humiliating. Steve chats with them all like it's easy, normal, a thing he enjoys doing.

He can see his friends keeping the topics safe, music, high school gossip, they even start to discuss their grades. Eddie is mostly listening because he's been chatting with Steve all week, so he can see his friends are steering clear of anything other. They don't bring up anything Steve wouldn't talk to other jocks about.

Leave it to Steve to throw them for a loop. "Hey, you guys are all in Hellfire, right?"

The room screeches to a stop, all eyes going to Steve. He's not sure what's showing on his own face, but he can see all his friend's faces. They look surprised.

"Yeah," Jeff finds his voice first. "We're the only members."

Steve nods, "right. You play Dungeons and Dragons?"

"You know what Dungeons and Dragons is?" Brian asks.

"Yeah," Steve shrugs, fiddling with the beer can in his hands, "I know that, it's like -Hellfire, that is-, a high school club but- oh, this is gonna sound bad. I can tell already."

Eddie raises an eyebrow, curious, "just say it, Harrington. If we don't like it, there's four of us and one of you. We'll give you a swirlee in your own damn toilet."

Steve laughs and that seems to be all the push he needed because he relaxes, setting the beer down on a coaster, "I know some super cool kids who'll be freshman next year. I think they'd really want to be in your club. But, uh, since Eddie and I will be graduating this year, I was wondering if you'd want to move your game from the school to here? So they can join in."

Eddie's brain shuts off. Steve knows some cool middle schoolers, who play Dungeons and Dragons, and thinks the should all come to Steve's house to do that. Play DnD together. (Steve also believes he's going to graduate this year, ha!)

"I'm sorry," Jeff says, laughter in his voice, "there's no such things as cool middle schoolers."

Steve frowns slightly, "well, these will be the first, then. They've got their own DM, his name's Will, but I think he could learn a lot from Eddie. And Dustin loves this game so much. But if they wait until next year to officially join the club, Eddie won't be there."

Steve knows that Eddie is the DM. Steve knows what a DM is. (Steve really believes he's going to graduate this year?). "How- what? How do you even know about Hellfire? Or that I'm the DM?"

"I go to school with you guys," Steve says, "I know I'm an asshole but I'm not oblivious. Just because I didn't acknowledge the existence of your club before now doesn't mean I was unaware of it."

Fair point.

"Alright. Let's have our next club meeting here instead of the school. You can bring these cool middle schoolers and we'll see. If they're just lame middle schoolers, we're going to be very disappointed."

"Great! You meet Thursdays, right? They'll be here."

Monday is the real test. Eddie's feeling some kind of way about Monday. It's lunch, and everyone is already at their usual tables except Steve, who hasn't arrived yet.

Jeff catches his eye and Eddie can see he's thinking the same thing. It was easy to be friends with Eddie 'The Freak' Munson behind closed doors and in front of people already his friend. But if Steve actually comes through those doors and sits at their table, he'll be a target. Fully and officially.

Of course, Eddie catches sight of Steve as soon as he does come in, sack lunch in hand. He watches as Steve doesn't even hesitate. He weaves his way around other teens and plops down at their table, into the space left available for him between Eddie and Gareth. Watches as Steve beams at him before pulling a fucking pb&j out of his stupid brown sack.

Eddie can hear the murmuring around them, catches Steve's name and his own, knows that they've all been noticed today. The outcome of what will happen because of this, unknown.

Eddie doesn't like the unknown.

He might be willing to face it, though, if Steve keeps smiling at him.

The week passes. No one says anything to him. Steve sits at their table every day.

Thursday comes and he gets to meet some pretty cool middle schoolers, though unexpected ones. Will, the DM, turns out to be Will Byers, who was dead and then not dead and also the little brother of the guy who beat Steve up and stole his girlfriend (what the hell sparked this kids friendship with Steve?). Mike Wheeler, little brother of said ex-girlfriend. Lucas Sinclair and Dustin Henderson are the last two. Eddie has never heard of these two, and therefore doesn't have any opinions just yet.

The kids know their stuff but they don't end up playing. Character creation takes some time, and Eddie's gotta think about how to incorporate four new characters (he was expecting one lame middle schooler, even though Steve had used the plural of kid every time he talked about them).

Before they all head out, Steve asks to talk to Eddie.

"Hey, I just- if the kids get into other after school activities, would you be okay with moving the date of the club meeting? My house is available every day, not just school days."

What an odd request. "I guess? Why?"

Steve shrugs (but it's a shrug Eddie has come to know doesn't mean 'I don't know' and means something closer to 'I have a perfectly valid explanation for this but don't know how to put it into words so it's easier to say I don't know') and says, "some school activities can't be rescheduled. It's be kinda shitty to make them miss this by forcing them to chose."

"There's a story there. I want to know it."

Steve looks at him, open in a way that Eddie hasn't experienced. "I want to tell you. But I'm not ready for that. Not yet. Now, go home and do your damn homework. I gotta drop these kids off."

December 21st, 1984 - Christmas Break

"I can't believe you did Dustin's hair for their Snowball dance," Eddie says as they watch Jeff, Gareth, Brian, Mike, Will, Lucas, and Dustin pile into Eddie's van after a rare, afternoon meeting of Hellfire. Gareth offered to take everyone home (maybe Eddie had to beg him to do it so he could stay and bother Steve, but that's between him and Gareth).

"He deserves a good older role model. I try to be that person," Steve says, and before Eddie can mock him for being egotistical, he continues, "that's why I wanted them to meet you, I guess, back in November. Dustin deserves a role model who understands the things he likes. Dustin needs you."

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that, so he just walks to the living room, grabbing the remote and settling in on the couch. Steve joins him shortly, sitting next to him rather than at the other end of the couch.

"You finish your homework?"

"Oh my god, mom," Eddie rolls his whole head dramatically, "no. I'll get it done eventually."

"Eddie," Steve says, sounding serious. Eddie turns to him, and Steve reaches out, grabbing one of Eddies hands, slotting their fingers together and Eddie feels those damn butterflies he's so used to these days. "I want to graduate with you. We can have a joint graduation party here. But that can't happen if you don't do your homework."

Eddie looks at Steve, feeling more seen than he's ever been in his life. His hand clutches back at Steve's. "Yeah. Okay. I'll graduate with you. Class of '85."

"Joint party?"

This is Eddie's chance to ask the question he's been itching to ask. "Your parent's won't mind you sharing with the resident freak?"

"My parents won't be here. They send me a card with a letter to take to their local accountant, who will arrange for a graduation cake to be delivered on a date of my choosing and give me money to host whatever kinda party I want. And what I want, is a joint party."

"You sound so sure of that."

"I am," Steve says, looking away to stare towards the TV, "I know the exact date they'll be in town between now and April 1986."

The fact Steve says 'date' and not 'dates' is not lost on Eddie. "When's that?"

"May 28th, 1985."

Eddie studies the side of his face, looking for any hint of a joke. "How do you know that?"

"Would you believe me if I said it's because I'm actually twenty-one, and have already lived through these events, and by some miracle was sent back into the body of my 17-year-old self to try and stop something terrible from happening?"

Eddie hits him with a throw pillow. He'll get the truth out of him one day.

May 3rd, 1985

Eddie graduates with Steve. It was fucking hell making it happen, but Steve recruited Nancy Wheeler to help tutor them both. (Eddie thought he'd be jealous, but Steve really isn't into Nancy anymore. They'd chat, he'd ask about Jonathan even, but most importantly, he'd always sat closer to Eddie than Nancy).

All of Hellfire is invited to their graduation party, his Uncle Wayne, too, along with the entire Byer's family, Chief Hopper and his daughter, Max Mayfield, and Robin Buckley. Most of these people aren't a surprise to Eddie by the time the party comes around but meeting them and learning that Steve considers this odd group of people his family was a surreal thing when it was happening.

(The real surprise person is Robin Buckley, who Steve had tried to befriend briefly during January but quickly backed out of doing that when he saw how weirded out it made Buckley. Buckley does not show to their joint graduation party but everyone else does.)

Steve and his uncle get along well and it makes some deep part of Eddie warm and fuzzy. Wayne was initially distrustful of Steve (rightfully so, given Eddie's history with jocks, and that he might have complained, loudly and often, about Steve to his uncle before. Hard to backtrack that.)

But Steve had shown up one day, asking to speak to Wayne instead of Eddie. Wayne had said yes, and then they both climbed into Wayne's pickup and went God knows where because Wayne and Eddie both know if they'd stayed on the property, Eddie would have done his best to eavesdrop.

Upon return, Steve had given Wayne a hug, hopped in his own car, and left.

Neither will tell him what they talked about, the jerks.

But all that to say, they're here, the sliding-glass door that leads to Steve's backyard wide open as people freely move from the inside to the outside and back. His friends, Steve's friends, their friends mingling easily. Hopper and Wayne chat, Jonathan and Gareth are hucking kids into the pool (at their request), Nancy is talking with Jeff and Brian, and Steve is standing at Eddie's side, holding a plate and eating cake (chocolate with raspberry filling, Eddie's favorite).

Steve spends a lot his time at Eddie's side.

Eddie expected Steve to be tired of him by now. To give up. But he hasn't. Every now and then, he still asks if he can kiss Eddie. And Eddie keeps saying no. Always an excuse, always a reason. It's been fucking with Eddie's head because he doesn't understand how Steve can be so willing, and wanting, to kiss another guy. Especially since the guy he wants to his is Eddie Munson!

Steve doesn't always ask when they're alone. He's asked when other people at this party are around, but always too quiet to be heard, like he's protecting Eddie's secret but doesn't care if people know his own. A little part of Eddie was mad at him about it; Steve's never been beaten up for being queer which probably makes it easier to be open about it.

In fact, Steve had asked him just this morning as they put their graduation gowns on over their regular clothes in the school parking lot.

"Eddie, can I kiss you?"

"No. Why are you so eager to get beat up?"

"I'm not scared of these people, Eds," Steve says with that damn shrug.

"You should be! This town'll try and kill you for being a fag," Eddie spits out, memories of Hagan, Jackson, Hargrove, the man from The Hideout, all come back to him.

"I've seen Hell, and I'm not afraid of a single person in this town," Steve says, voice cold and Eddie used to doubt that, but they've been friends for months now and Eddie's seen the nail bat he keeps in the trunk of his car, and been there when Steve's woken up screaming. Steve doesn't talk about it and Eddie hasn't pushed but this is- hearing this is the most direct Steve's ever been about it. Whatever the fuck it was.

"Tell me about it," Eddie finds himself say. "You've seen Hell?"

This brings Steve back to himself it seems, because he looks shocked by Eddie's words even though Steve said them first. "Not today. Today, we graduate!"

So, they've graduated, they've partied, and now, Eddie has questions.

"Hey, Steve, follow me," Eddie says and heads back into the house. He doesn't look back, doesn't need to to know Steve is following. He goes up the stairs and into Steve's room, waiting for Steve to enter before closing the door behind him.

"Want to get me alone, Munson?" Steve asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Yeah. I want to know about Hell."

Steve drops onto the edge of his bed like a stone. He can see the war going on in Steve's head. He can wait this out. He leans back against the door, a confirmation for Steve that he's not going to give up on this easy.

"Eds, you didn't believe me before. I don't- I don't want to lose you if you don't believe me again."

Again? Eddie would have remembered if Steve had told him anything about Hell. "Trust me, then. Trust that I'm not going to leave just because I don't believe what you say."

"Okay," Steve says. "You asked, back in December, how I knew when I'd be seeing my parents again. Remember?"

Eddie thinks before wrinkling his nose and saying, "Yeah. Time travel."

"Yeah. Like Back to the Future but- shit. That's not out yet. But yeah, time travel. Sorta? I don't know. Maybe I didn't travel through time and instead just had a vision of the future. Or a prophetic dream. Or whatever."

Eddie is less leaning against the door, and more using it for support now. "The fuck, Harrington? You weren't joking about that? You really believe that?"

"Yeah. And I got a majority of the people in my backyard to believe me, so I'm hoping I can convince you, too. And if-if I lose you. If you think I'm crazy, or a liar, or whatever, it's better that I lose you this way than-" Steve cuts himself off, a choked sob following those words. Never, not once, has Eddie seen Steve cry, but he's seeing it now. Crying, over the mere thought of losing Eddie. Because Eddie isn't gone, he's here in this room with Steve, and still Steve cries.

"Hey, hey, shh," Eddie shoves off the door to drop to his knees before him, hands going up to cup his face. "I'm here. You're not losing me because I'm here."

Steve nods, cheeks rubbing against Eddie's palms before Steve's hands come up to grip loosely at Eddie's wrists, Steve leaning in to rest his forehead against Eddie's. He takes a shaky breath in before he speaks. "I've already changed the future. In that other timeline, the bad one, you didn't graduate this year. You don't meet Dustin or Mike or Lucas until next year. I'm so fucking jealous of you because I think Dustin like you better than me because you understand the things he likes and I don't. You never got to meet Will, the Byers' had already moved to California by the time the kids are Freshman."

Eddie stays quiet, waits, closes his own eyes to just hear Steve.

"There's another world, Dustin says it's another dimension. I don't know enough about how it all works but we call it the Upside Down. There are monster there, the Demogorgon and Demodogs, and later, Demobats and Vecna."

"Vecna and Demogorgon at from Dungeons and Dragons."

"I know. These things had no name until we had to fight them. The kids named the Demogorgon. You and Dustin name Vecna. Now shush."

Eddie nods against Steve's forehead and listens to the impossible. Will being stuck in the Upside Down, a girl with superpowers, how Steve got involved, that Steve returned to a body that had fought the Demogorgon but the Demodogs hadn't happened yet. That he and Nancy break up because Steve knows both their hearts belong to others (Eddie's insides twist because he's sure that Steve is hinting that his heart belongs to Eddie but that's for later in the story).

Steve talks about going to Carol Perkins' party because he'd heard Eddie was going to be there. He doesn't know how the events go before this timeline because Steve hadn't gone to that party last timeline. He'd been with Nancy still, then.

He talks about how Hopper was the first person he told about the timeline change, because if anyone could prove he was telling the truth, it was El. Hopper hadn't believed him but it had built enough of a trust that Hopper was willing to let them go at the party.

He talks about the events that led to the concussion he'd got, that sparked their friendship fully. How he'd gotten it protecting those kids from Billy Hargrove. Burning down a pumpkin patch.

"You said you were twenty-one," Eddie says, when Steve stops talking. "That would make the year 1986? '87?. What happens next?"

Steve shakes his head. "I can't- there are things I can't say. Can't talk about yet because if I change the timeline too much, Vecna could win. And I can't-he cannot-I-"

"Shh, shhh," Eddie soothes, "no, you don't have to tell me. Thank you, for sharing this with me. I do... I have a question."

"Mmm?"

"How do I play into this. Why did you decide to be my friend now?"

"To change the future. In March of '86, you get- the Upside Down shit effects your life, too. We trauma bond and- I realized that I wish I had known you better. Sooner. We had one week together and honestly, I spent most of it pining after my ex. It took a while, but I realized I will always love Nance, but I wasn't in love with her. But that realization came after it was too late for us-" Steve cuts off, sobbing.

Eddie doesn't know what happened. Isn't sure he wants to. That's a timeline that's already lost forever. For it to come true, it requires him to be in high school and he's not. "Hey, it's okay. We're okay. We're going to stay okay."

They stay there, close, until Steve is calm again and ready to rejoin the party.

"Hey. Any chance I can see El move something with her mind?"

"Yeah. Gonna have to wait until your side of the family leaves, though. It's still fragile, who knows and who doesn't."

His side of the family. Like- Eddie cannot think on that too long or he's going to combust. "Can't wait to see."

Eddie does get to see. Steve pulls El aside as the party winds down and whispers in her ear. A little while later, while Eddie is the only one outside for his smoke break, his cigarette gets pulled from his mouth and flung into the pool. He jumps, because Jesus Christ, but a quick look towards the house shows him Steve, arms crossed and smiling, with El, arm extended towards Eddie still.

He can't find himself to be mad about the cigarette when El smiles at him.

Steve is already cooking breakfast when Eddie emerges from the guest room the morning after graduation. He'd been invited to share Steve's bed (just to sleep, Steve had sworn) but Eddie had to decline because he wasn't sure he could trust himself.

"Morning," Eddie says, draping himself boldly against Steve's back to look over his shoulder as he fries up hashbrowns. Steve doesn't even hesitate to lean back against Eddie.

"Morning."

"Put that down and turn around for a moment," Eddie steps back and Steve obeys, setting the wooden spoon he'd been pushing hashbrowns around with down, turning to lean himself against the counter rather than stay in front of the stove.

"What's up?"

"Just wanted to report that I am suffering no hang over effects. You?"

"None," Steve says, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Good, good. Didn't fall out of bed and concuss myself either. Same for you I assume?"

"Same."

Eddie thinks Steve is starting to understand, if the little surprised face he does is anything to go by. "And I can't help but notice the daylight out that window. You see the daylight?"

Steve gives him a lopsided grin. "I do see it. Eddie, can I kiss you?"

"Yes."

They meet in the middle. For a kiss that's been a long time coming, it's so gentle. Steve cups his face like he's made of glass and Eddie should be annoyed by that but he's not. It just makes him feel safe.

Feel loved.

They break for air but don't go far from each other.

"I don't know what the future holds, unlike you," Eddie says, because he's a cheeky boy, "but I do know that no matter what it brings I'm here. You can't get rid of me now."

Steve looks conflicted, "not even if I asked you to go? For your safety? Even if it's to save you?"

Eddie shakes his head. "Babe, you've already saved me. You've already changed the course of my life." He clocks the way Steve's eyes darken when he calls him babe. "I'm gonna make sure I've changed yours for the better, too."

Steve hauls him back in by his shoulders. They kiss and kiss and kiss until the smell of burning hashbrowns ruins the mood.

Eddie doesn't know what horrors await (no one but Steve does) but they'll face those together.

#steddie #my fic #writing prompt #this is a monster so posted to ao3 for easier reading

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