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just-jordie-things · 7 months

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crushing - takuma ino

word count: 3k warnings: i think none summary: ino's not great at making moves and you're not great at picking up on them. either way, you're undeniably crushing on each other. a/n: this is my first ino fic! i don't usually post something immediately after finishing it but i really wanted feedback on this one before i wrote bigger n better fics for him :3 ___

Takuma Ino was not a desperate man.

At least he hoped he didn’t come off that way whenever he crossed paths with (y/l/n) (y/n). He really hoped he didn’t. Because every day he spent at Jujutsu Tech, he went out of his way to ‘accidentally’ bump into her as many times as possible.

His personal best was twenty-five. That day he’d stayed well past sunset to finish the paperwork he’d neglected, but he still stands by his choices.

Nanami claimed that if he had a crush on the young manager, then he should just ask her out already, but Ino didn’t think it was that easy. Not because he was nervous- of course not! He just wanted to be certain that she would agree to go out with him before making a move. That wasn’t a ridiculous notion, was it?

It wasn’t ridiculous. It just meant things moved… slowly.

“Ino, hey,”

(y/n’s) drawn out of her conversation with Maki when she sees the Grade Two Sorcerer approaching in the hall. There’s a soft smile of familiarity on her face, unlike the student beside her who rolled her eyes and slumped against the wall, knowing that it would take twice as long to have her paperwork looked over. This wasn’t the first time Maki had witnessed the perfect distraction that was Takuma Ino. It was already the fourth time this week, and just like every other time, (y/n) fell for it right away.

Just as he approaches the both of them, a look of confusion flashes across (y/n’s) face, and she tucks the forgotten paperwork against her chest as she tilts her head at him.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on your way to Yokohama? I thought you were assigned to that Grade One curse with the whole…” She pauses as she makes an indefinite shape with her hands, “Explosive thing?”

“I’m about to head out for it now, but, you know,” He shrugs his shoulders, a smile forming on his face the longer he looks at her.

The first time he’d laid eyes on her he’d done a cartoonish double take, which unfortunately Nanami bore witness to. She’d been walking and chatting animatedly with Ijichi- who seemed less passionate about the conversation but was an attentive listener nonetheless- and every time he’d seen her since, Ino felt the same lurch in his heart that was the desire to linger near her just a little longer.

Before he could finish his thought, Maki was speaking up first.

“You just wanted to show up late?” She asked dryly, her expression anything but amused by the sight of young love.

“I’m not late,” He chuckles nervously, shaking his head. “I just wanted to stop by my good luck charm before I left” He claims with a little more confidence before he grins at (y/n).

She laughs at the comment, and Maki can’t help but roll her eyes just a little bit. Typical. Surely she’d swoon over the flirty comment and then drop it completely, just like she always did.

“Yeah yeah,” She mused, just like Maki expected. “Go, don’t get yourself in trouble again. I don’t think Nanami will keep vouching for you”

“Sure he will,” Ino waves a dismissive hand, but judging from the way he’s already turning away and breaking into a jog, (y/n) and Maki can see through the nonchalant act. “But it’ll be quick! I’ll have the shortest report ever for you!” He hollers from down the hall.

(y/n’s) still chuckling once he’s out of sight. Maki huffs in aggravation.

“I can’t believe you lead that guy on. You’re gonna have to let him down easy if you don’t want him to have a stroke”

“What?” (y/n) shakes her head at the student’s accusation. “I don’t lead him on, we just get along”

“You lead him on” Maki deadpans. (y/n) holds her paperwork a little tighter against herself, and the defensive action doesn’t go unnoticed.

“This isn’t appropriate, I won’t allow for this to be a silly rumor of some s-”

“Gojo Sensei says that he’ll never make a move unless you do it first” Maki shrugs.

All professionalism flies out the window in an instant as (y/n’s) face goes blank, her eyes blinking wide as she stares back at the student in utter disbelief.

“He did?” She mumbles.

Maki nods in confirmation.

(y/n) glances around herself to ensure their conversation would be a private one, before shuffling forward and lowering her voice.

“Well… what else did he say?” ___

To say that (y/n) had a bit of a crush on the Auspicious Beast Summoner would be an understatement. From the day he’d fallen in front of her- literally, he fell down half a flight of stairs and she’d rushed to make sure he was alright- there was something exciting about him. He was so kind, and funny, and he so obviously went out of his way to talk to her that she slowly found her heart fluttering more and more whenever he was around.

All this time she’d thought he was just friendly, and was eager to have a companion at Jujutsu Tech that was his age. Why else would he spend so much time around a manager when there are much cooler, much stronger people around? It was no secret what he thought of Nanami, and while (y/n) was proud of her work, she simply couldn’t compete with the skill of a sorcerer.

Usually she wasn’t one to listen to rumors, especially from a source like Gojo Satoru. He may have been a friend-of-sorts to her, but that didn’t mean (y/n) trusted him for a second. Gojo was a good guy, but he was the kind of guy to stir the pot when he was bored, and playing matchmaker was just a game to him. So despite everything Maki had told her, she didn’t necessarily believe it. She was just curious, that’s all.

And the only reason she was headed off to Ino’s office after being notified he’d returned from his mission was just to address the rumors, that’s all. She was doing him a favor by letting him know what the other sorcerers were gossiping about. There couldn’t possibly be an ulterior motive laced in there as well.

His door is open when she reaches the small workspace, but he doesn’t seem to notice when she appears there, leaning into the door frame while she takes in the crude office.

Calling it an office didn’t even feel correct. There was a desk and a computer, and a semi-comfortable looking rolling chair that Ino was sitting in. He hadn’t realized there was a visitor at the door seeing as he had his head hanging over the back of it, his mask pulled down and his hands pressed into his face. (y/n) had to bite back the chuckle that threatened to come out of her, assuming there was more to report in his paperwork than he’d assumed and was now overwhelmed by it.

With a soft tap of her knuckles on the doorframe, (y/n) makes her presence known.

“Need some help?”

Ino jolts up so suddenly his chair is sent backwards, rolling away from the desk and tipping out of balance too, but he’s quick to steady himself, staring at her sudden figure at his door with wide eyes. It’s the only part of his expression she can make out, seeing as he’s still got his mask pulled over his face.

“(y/n)!” He greets her louder than he intended, but he had yet to shake off his surprise in seeing her. A fond smile tilts the corners of her mouth, unable to be helped as she watches him awkwardly scramble in his seat. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to consider leaving if you were crying under there” She teases, finally stepping foot into the room. Her eyes wander the bare gray walls, a slight frown taking over at how empty the whole space feels.

“No, I’m not-” Before he continues, Ino’s quick to yank his mask off his face, pulling it off his head completely and dropping it on his desk. “What brings you here?” He changes the subject completely, his eyes never leaving her figure as she wanders around the room as if looking for something.

He realizes then that she’s never seen his office- not that there was much to see, as she was coming to find- but nonetheless it’s odd that she’s the one approaching him for once. It was always Ino searching around the halls of Jujutsu Tech for her, not the other way around.

“So empty,” (y/n) comments quietly, and he’s not sure if she was talking to herself or him. “You don’t like to decorate?” She asks, this time turning to him.

“I’m not in here very much,” He admits, a sheepish smile on his face. “I take most of my paperwork home. If I’m here I’m not usually in the office”

“Yeah,” (y/n) smiles softly, ducking her head to hide the way her face warms up. “That’s cause you’re usually trying to bother me”

She doesn’t see it, but Ino’s face lights up. He bears a wide grin and his eyes gleam with excitement. She was acting quite out of character today. Usually he was the one teasing her. This was a real treat.

“Bother?” He repeats, standing up from his chair and rounding his desk to lean against it, completely ignoring the half-written report on his computer that he hadn’t hit save on in a while. “I don’t seem to remember ever bothering you”

She rolls her eyes, finally looking up at him, and Ino thinks he could combust from excitement. She’s blushing, which he’s not sure he’s ever seen before, and he can tell she’s fighting back a bigger smile behind the small one she shows him.

“Well what would you call it then?” She asks, still struggling to bite back a grin that mirrors his. So much joy poured out of him it was difficult to fight the way it took her by the soul and forced her to feel nothing but warmth and butterflies.

“Obviously I was romancing you,” Ino replies without missing a beat, surprising even himself with the blunt truth. Besides the way her eyes round into saucers, (y/n) doesn’t really react to the statement. “Not my fault you’re a hard person to flirt with sometimes” He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, and then tucks his hands into his pockets.

(y/n) blinks a few times, staring him down like she was suddenly an expert in body language.

“I am?” She asks, a small laugh escaping her at the suggestion. “Because maybe I didn’t know you were flirting” She says with a shrug of her own.

Ino gapes back at her, unable to keep up with the chill facade when she says something so ridiculous.

“What do you mean you didn’t know?” He asks, and she laughs again, finally losing the battle to the grin on her face. “Was I not obvious enough? You know that even Gojo was trying to get me to-”

“Yeah, I know,” (y/n) says quietly, but it’s effective in getting him to shut up. “One of his students might’ve told me some rumors they heard from him” She explains.

“What!?” Embarrassment floods his features. “Who? I want names-”

“Can’t, teacher-student confidentiality and all” She teases.

She’s learning it was quite fun to not be on the receiving end of the playful banter. In the past it was always Ino with the perfect quip or joke to have her flustered for the rest of the day, even if she wouldn’t show it. Knowing he was actually incredibly easy to mess with felt like knowing his weakness.

“You’re not a teacher” He deadpans. She laughs again.

“Well, I actually came to let you know that certain sorcerers here were spreading rumors to slander your good name,” She tells him matter of factly. “But it appears those rumors are actually true, so they’re not really rumors, huh?”

Ino rolls his eyes, but it’s in no way directed at her. He makes a mental note to bring this up to Nanami to add to the very long list of grievances caused by Gojo Satoru.

(y/n) steps close to him, linking her fingers together behind her back as she finds the courage to hold eye contact with him.

“Why didn’t you just ask me out?” She asks.

He hates that she tilts her head to the side just so. She did it on occasion when she was confused about something, and Ino’s sure that she’s not even aware that she had that tendency, but every time she did it he was so overwhelmed by the urge to kiss her that most of the time he had to completely walk away from her.

But they’re in his office, having a conversation he really didn’t want to walk away from. If he ran now, there would be no coming back from it, and his intrigue in how she felt about him outweighed the aggravation she caused him when she looked that pretty.

He’s staring at her without saying anything, and he knows it’s been a few seconds too long to be comfortable, but it’s hard to care. She’s close enough to him that he can smell her perfume and see how every strand of hair falls over left shoulder and he can’t help but take in every pretty sight of her.

He once swore he wasn’t a desperate man, hence his patience in waiting while he tried to figure out how she felt before he made a move, but standing here now, what’s one promise in the grand scheme of life?

So he leans forward off his desk a bit, desperation getting the best of him.

“Would you have agreed?”

She raises her chin, the apples of her cheeks getting rosy in color despite her trying to play it cool.

“I asked you first”

“I asked you second”

That had her bursting out in laughter, hands falling to her hips.

“Oh, real mature!” She says through a fit of bubbly giggles.

It’s cute. It was so cute in fact, Ino just couldn’t take it anymore. The fun banter he’d tried to establish had now warped into his own personal hell.

And hell didn’t even have any boring office decorations, no succulents, no photo frames, not even a calendar.

“Just answer the question,” He says, and it comes out as more of a plea than he means for it to, but he doesn’t bother trying to compensate for it, or taking it back. “Would you have agreed to go out with me?”

He has a hopeful look in his eye that only seems to gleam more with every second that passes without her response. (y/n) softens, the warmth in her chest spreading throughout her entire body and making her melt like putty. It was almost pathetic, how quickly this little crush she’d harbored for the sorcerer had grown into something more genuine than she’s ever felt for anyone before.

“Yeah,” She answers simply, quietly, barely nodding her head along with her confirmation. “Yeah, I would have”

The smile he wears is so sweet and pure that she’s mirroring it in a heartbeat.

“Okay,” He thinks he’s going to pass out if he doesn’t hurry this up, so he rushes the next string of words out so fast (y/n’s) lucky she managed to understand him. “You wanna go out then? Tonight? For drinks? And then maybe dinner?”

She’s laughing as she nods, her hands nervously fiddling together.

“Okay,” She repeats, rocking back and forth on her feet just once. “But you should finish your report first. So, call me when you’re done?”

He wants to protest, but he knows she’s right. So as he hands her his phone to add herself as a contact, Ino mentally starts going through what he has to finish so he could get through it as quickly as possible.

She’s still grinning when she hands him his phone back, already eager for the day to be over.

“I’ll be quick, promise” He beams back at her as she makes her way out of his office.

“You pick where we go for drinks, and I’ll pick where we go for dinner,” She decides, lingering at the doorway for just a moment longer. “Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect” He’s back in his chair and clicking away at his keyboard as he writes nonsense into his report.

(y/n’s) gone with a little wave and a blush that only burns brighter the further away she gets. She just hopes she doesn’t run into anyone in the meantime.

Ino tries to work on his report after adding some meaningless fluff of things that didn’t really happen, and weren’t really necessary for the report. He really does try.

For five whole minutes.

But then he can’t help but open his phone to check on the contact (y/n) had just made for himself, and seeing the little orange heart emoji she’d added next to her name has him swooning way too hard- over an emoji, at least. But that’s what she reduced him to, mush.

(y/n’s) just reached the front steps of Jujutsu Tech when her phone starts blaring her ringtone in her pocket. She makes a face at the unknown number calling her, but it’s washed away as soon as she picks it up.

“Would you believe me if I said I finished already?” Ino’s speaking right away, without so much as a greeting.

She giggles into the receiver, because no, no she doesn’t.

“That’s quite impressive work” She praises.

“I think you’ll come to find I’m quite an impressive guy!” He responds, and then quickly follows it with, “Not in, like, a douchebag way though!”

She fights the urge to laugh any harder, not wanting to put him through any more embarrassment than he’s already suffered today. They still have an entire evening ahead of them, after all.

“Of course not,” She murmurs softly. “Meet me at the front steps, then? We can go into town together”

And when Ino’s there in under a minute, trying desperately not to show how out of breath he is, she doesn’t tease him for it. Not until later in the night after a few drinks in, anyways.

___

xoxo ~ jordie

#pls give me feedback on this <3 #takuma ino #takuma ino x reader #takuma ino imagine #ino x reader #ino imagine #takuma ino jjk #ino takuma x reader #ino takuma imagine #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine #ino takuma fluff #takuma ino fluff #takuma ino x reader fluff #jjk x reader fluff

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hoseokieswrld · 6 months

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STILL DON'T KNOW MY NAME | JJK (M)

CHAPTER ONE:

Pairing: Jungkook x fem!reader

Summary: In which a video game streamer, Jeon Jungkook, finds— and is intrigued by— an account that writes nsfw fanfiction about him and decides to send them a private message. He still doesn’t know your name.

Genre: smut, pwp, internet strangers to lovers

Category: three-shot

Collab with: @dollfaceksj —> her masterlist

Banner by: @archivedkookie

WARNINGS: sexting, explicit sexual content, strong language, pornography, cybersex, exchanging in nude photos, hidden identities

total word count: 4.7k. masterlist next part—>

“Ah, fuck! He got me where I couldn’t see him!”Jungkook yells into his microphone, frustrated at his followers during his twitch stream. “Damn it, I was so close.” Jungkook puts his face into his palms, looking at his monitor and seeing all the comments being left in the chat.

User386290: Damn jk he got your ass lmao

Jkssideh0e: aww kook dw you're still fine asf

Jungkook ignores the thirst comments. They don’t make him uncomfortable, he’s just used to them. Don’t get him wrong, he loves the thirst comments and they actually give him a little ego boost. Whenever he loses at something, he tends to get very annoyed and end the stream.

“Well, that didn’t go as planned and that honestly killed the mood,” Jungkook weakly laughs. “It's getting late and I’ve already been streaming for two and a half hour anyway, so I think I’m gonna end the stream guys, sorry.” He turns his attention to his camera. There seems to be lots of women in today's stream judging from the comments left in the chat.

Kookswrld: noooo dont go yet bby >:(

Ashln00: im gonna miss ur sexy ass

yrma4l: leaving us already wow whtevr

“Don’t worry, guys. I’ll stream tomorrow night at the same time and I’ll be posting some clips of tonight's stream later on my Twitter and Instagram for you guys to rewatch.” He’s really appreciative of his followers and he enjoys seeing them beg him to stay on stream, even if some of the comments are sometimes a little out of pocket.

“Okay, I’m gonna hop off the stream now. Thanks to everybody who joined and donated on my stream today. I really appreciate you guys, and tomorrow I’ll come back on and play COD with some of you guys too. Goodnight, everyone!” Jungkook waves as the comments bid him goodbye.

Jkssideh0e: bye bby

Cl0v3r2000: see u tmw sexy

Jeoncjungk: byeee!! :)

_elicticmoonl1ght: you did so well today baby ill def tune in tmw ;))

Jungkook smiles at the pet names, not being able to contain his flusteredness from the camera. The compliments he gets from his followers are much flirtier to him.

Jungkook has been streaming for a little over a year now. At first, it started out as a silly little hobby when he had some free time after his friend Taehyung suggested he should start streaming. After a while, more and more people started to join and watch his lives. Not only was Jungkook good at video games but he was also insanely attractive, one of the reasons he has such a large female audience. After gaining more followers by the day, his once-a-week streams became twice a week, which then resulted in five times a week. Jungkook never thought his love for video games would get him this far, it was only a silly hobby of his. A year later, he has 1 million followers that watch and share his streams. He truly loves his followers.

Jungkook finally ends the two and a half hour stream. He gets up, washes up for the night before he gets into bed. He’s had a pretty long day between photography sessions he does on the side and streaming, so he’s glad he has time to lie down in bed and edit videos for the night.

After posting, he decides to scroll through his feed on twitter since he hasn’t all day.

@lili57_: Jungkook on his stream today tho?!! Yall gotta hold me back fr he is TOO fine my god.

@jjkkoooks: jk got another tattoo?? he is wattpad come to life 😛

That’s until he scrolls on his Twitter timeline and notices a familiar username.

_elicticmoonl1ght

Where did he recognize that name from? He thinks long and hard from his stream’s chat today, and finally remembers. This definitely has to be the same user from earlier, so the only logical thing Jungkook thinks to do is press on the account’s page.

“Holy shit,” are the first words that come out of his mouth as his eyes practically bulge out of his skull.

“NSFW 18+ ONLY ACCOUNT DEDICATED TO JEON JUNGKOOK” were the first words in your bio…and then the multiple threads of sexual content you write about Jungkook.

A whole nsfw account dedicated to me? I didn’t think people would go out of their day to write explcit stories about me. Jungkook’s thoughts are clouding his mind. He knows he has very loyal followers who watch and share all his streams, but this? Jungkook would have never thought in a million years that people would make porn accounts about him. He’s just a regular dude in his 20s who likes to play video games.

Jungkook decides to go through your page, each post making him more flustered the more he scrolls down. Fuck, do you know how to write, he thinks to himself, truly amazed at how you write each scenario to every last detail, making it sound realistic. That is until he almost cums on the spot, heart racing faster than ever when he comes across one of your most updated posts:

"Mmh, fuck, Kook. Right there, please, don't stop," I whine into the comforter of the mattress while my boyfriend pounds into my soaked pussy from behind, knocking the breath out of my lungs.

"Yeah, baby, like that? I'm gonna make this pussy squirt for me," Jungkook groans out, going harder and faster on me, constantly spanking my ass to make sure he leaves his mark.

Jungkook is starting to get way too hard for his liking. He is so incredibly turned on by your writing, he has never expected to grow an erection from reading fictional porn about him. He mentally debates with himself whether jerking off to this is weird or not, but then realizes he hasn’t gotten himself off in days.

Porn isn’t doing it for him anymore, so he hasn’t watched it in weeks. He feels like the porn now isn’t real or natural. A girl screaming her head off like she was getting murdered was not even remotely hot to him, so he hasn’t had the desire to watch anything of the sort. Jungkook also had a few sneaky links here and there, but hasn’t hooked up with any in months. Unfortunately, he felt like they got too clingy and they even started to expect more from him. So now that he’s by himself, jerking off to this doesn’t seem like a bad idea, especially if it’s about him.

Oh, fuck it, Jungkook surrenders to himself and pulls down his sweatpants just past his balls, cock springing to life and hitting his stomach. Jungkook quickly scrambles to open his bedside table to pull out his lotion he uses for times like these. Impatiently, he squirts a good amount of the lotion into his palm and wraps his large tattooed hand around his throbbing cock.

Jungkook’s body jerks from the sensation of his lotioned hand stroking his sensitive cock, slightly squeezing the tip. His veiny cock twitches, begging for a release of some sort. His chest slightly heaves, forgetting how pleasing himself every once in a while can feel so good. “Mhm- Fuck,” he sighs quietly, picking up his phone to continue reading your post.

“Gonna cum, Kook, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” I mewl out from the immense amount of pleasure my boyfriend is giving me with his huge girthy cock, constantly rubbing against my g-spot. He shuts me up with a rough steamy kiss, never slowing down the pace of his hard thrusts. My back slightly starts hurting from being so deeply arched for him, but I can’t say I don’t like it.

He pulls away from the kiss, a long string of saliva connecting the both of our lips still. “Yeah, you're gonna cum for me? All talk until I give your bratty ass attention.” Jungkook says through gritted teeth, wrapping a hand in my hair and pulling it backwards to expose my beautiful, untouched neck to him. He leans in, harshly nibbling and sucking on my skin, leaving it bruised and bitten. I can’t help but admit defeat and whimper under his touch.

“I’m still being a cunt, right? Isn’t that what you said earlier? Huh, baby? Answer me.” Jungkook pulls on my hair again, waiting for my reply. He can’t help but go harder from my desperation, tears building up in the corners of my eyes from how hard he’s gripping my hair.

Jungkook can’t stop reading, finding your bratty attitude so fucking hot, imagining himself fucking into your tight, warm pussy faster. He gets more comfortable in bed, laying down as he squeezes the tip of his cock with every stroke of his large hand, more and more precum spilling out fromhis tip. His lips become red and swollen from biting down on them in a lousy attempt to contain his little whines and groans.

What makes this even hotter is him not knowing what you look like, sending him into a horny headspace. Still fisting his hard, lengthy cock, he gathers spit in his mouth, letting it dribble from his lips onto the head of his swollen dick, a little saliva getting caught in his dark pubes. He whines as he feels some of his saliva dripping down to his balls, the sound of fapping noises filling the room.

“N-no, Kook, you’re not. M’sorry, please- fuck,” I plead my boyfriend as he palms my tits under my tank top, letting the straps fall off my shoulders. He continues to feel me up, occasionally twisting and pinching my sensitive nipples.

Your words and writing make him imagine you, a mystery girl, begging him to fuck you. This is exactly what he likes. His cock only oozes more precum and begs for release. Jungkook takes off his shirt and the rest of his sweats, fully naked in the darkness of his bedroom. He wipes the layer of sweat off of his forehead and massages his balls a bit more, the sensation too good to stop.

“Gonna give what you want baby, yeah?” He finally lets me cum after teasing and torturing me for far too long.

This is the part Jungkook’s been waiting for. The tension building up was enough to get him excited, but this is the part he’s been looking forward to the most. This is what has him thrilled, reading about him finally letting you cum. He can’t describe how badly he wants your tight, velvety walls wrapping around his thick cock. Jungkook recreates the feeling of it by squeezing his hard member with his large palm, moaning a little louder than before.

“Fuck- I’m cumming,” I whine, wrapping my legs around his waist forcing him closer to me.

Is this girl keeping tabs on him? Jungkook can’t tell if he finds it weird or hot that this is exactly how he likes it in real life. He loves how his hands grip your thighs and his fingers sink into the supple flesh. For him, it's the best position. Hitting it from behind. Reading about it makes this ten times better. The way he has a close look at a girl's pussy and ass, her back arched so deeply into the mattress; it only shows how much more power he has over her in bed. He simply loves it. Jungkook can already feel himself getting closer, but wants to finish reading before he cums.

Jungkook keeps a hard steady pace, never losing track of his harsh pace. I can feel his cock throb inside of me, knowing that he’s close to cumming.

“Oh- fuck,” Jungkook groans, imagining him doing this in real life. The way you describe yourself for him is a major turn on, wishing you weren’t just a fake scenario but in his room instead. Fuck, he never knew he could be so envious of his ownself. His cock spurts even more precum than before, the darkness of his bedroom full of skin slapping sounds from the way he jerks himself off so fast. He can only imagine his lotioned hand being your tight soaked cunt.

I finally cum, legs shaking from how powerful my orgasm is. I dig my nails into Jungkook’s big arms when he doesn’t stop fucking into me. Being so fucked out like this drives himcloser to his high, his body collapsing on top of mine as he thrusts into me a few more times as I clench and tear up from the overstimulation.

“Fuck, baby, gonna cum inside you. That okay with you?” Jungkook desperately speaks out into my ear, waiting for my permission.

“Yeah, cum inside me, want your cum in me so bad, Kook.”

Your begging is enough to send Jungkook over the edge. He whines loudly, arm on fire from how hard he jerks himself off, chest heaving. He bites his lip harder, sticking his tongue out to play with his piercings, abs clenching as he’s only a few seconds away from cumming.

Jungkook finally cums inside of me with his final thrust, making my cunt feel so full.

“Fuckkk,” Jungkook groans out as he finally releases all over his stomach and hand, palm never slowing down while stroking his throbbing cock. It drips down in thick layers over his tattooed fingers, falling onto his dark pubic hair. Jungkook swears he’s never cum that hard from masturbating in his life.

He takes a second to recollect himself, still slightly in a daze. Jungkook points his attention downward to his stomach, heaving up and down with every breath. He notices the way his cum sticks to his big fingers. He slightly rubs his cock a little more, the feeling too good to stop, the loose skin going up and down with every stroke.

He stops after a few seconds, being slightly overstimulated. He reaches over to his bedside table, grabbing a few tissues and wiping off the cum from his stomach and lotion from his hand. Jungkook can’t lie, he really enjoyed reading and getting off to that, and wouldn’t be opposed to doing it again. He could scroll all night reading all of your horny thoughts and posts, you are really good at it.

That's when he gets an idea. He obviously can’t keep stalking and liking your posts from his professional streaming account, that would just blow his cover.

He quickly logs out of his personal account and creates a new burner account with the username ian_97. Jungkook quickly sets up his account making it look less like a fake bot account which results in him putting a picture of his dog, Bam, as the profile picture. He quickly edits his bio which consists of his real age and where he's from. There’s no way you’d think it's actually Jungkook who's following and liking all your posts. Would you even notice his account? You already have 3,000 followers who like and interact with all your posts, mostly being fanpages of him, so there isn’t much to worry about.

Jungkook follows your account, liking a bunch of your posts. He hates himself for getting a little hard, but nothing he can't sleep off. He wonders how you even found him and got interested enough to make an entire nsfw account about him. He’s not complaining though, he finds it hot as fuck.

Jungkook checks the time. ‘It's 12:30 am already? That means I've been reading through her account for like an hour, holy shit.’ Jungkook blinks at how long he’s been caught up in your page. He sighs, plugging his phone into the charger, deciding it's time to get some sleep. Jungkook remembers the long list of errands he has to carry out tomorrow morning which partially makes him annoyed but not much since he needs to get out of the house. He soon falls asleep peacefully, with you on his mind.

——————————————————————————-

A week and a half has passed since Jungkook’s little smut reading session and finding your page. Since then, he’s gotten so busy with life, doing the photography sessions he does on the side, home chores, and taking care of Bam which is a huge chore in itself. For some reason, he’s had a huge rush in which people want to book with him. Jungkook is glad people enjoy his work, don't get him wrong, but it's more complicated than it seems.

Jungkook spends hours if not days editing all the pictures he’s taken, and him being a perfectionist does not make it a quick task. Getting caught up with all of this ends in him not streaming in over a week, knowing his followers have been begging him to go live. He misses his followers a bunch, and needs to take his mind off things, so after he finishes editing all his pictures and sending them to his clients, he decides to go live.

“Hey everyone, miss me? Sorry I’ve been gone for a while, I got caught up in a lot with some personal matters. And yes, I’ve seen all your tweets begging me to go live and play COD. Well, your wish has been granted!” Jungkook enthusiastically states while reading the comments.

jjkgf613: finally we missed u!!

hoe4.jk: HES BACKKKKK!!!

kookiejjar: heyy hope you're alright :(

“Thanks guys, I missed y’all too, and don’t worry! I’m okay, just been putting a lot of stuff off that needed to be done. Other than that, it's all good! I’m back to streaming for you guys.” Jungkook is glad he has so many people that care for him, he couldn’t ask for better, more supportive followers.

kookswrld: yayyy we got our jungkook back :0

Jungkook chuckles and smiles, but it quickly drops from his face as his eyes drop to the comment right under it.

_elictmoonl1ght: missed u !

Jungkook’s cock twitches in his sweats, memories flooding back in from almost 2 weeks ago when he got off your posts. Fuck, how could I forget? He mentally argues with himself on how that totally slipped his mind. He wonders if you noticed his burner account following you or if you wrote more posts on your page about him. Jungkook quickly snaps out of it, clearing his throat, remembering he’s live streaming with 300k people watching.

“A-ahem, sorry guys, I thought I heard Bam or something. Uhm, let's just get back to the stream.” Jungkook clears his throat, trying to play off the long awkward pause in his stream, cheeks heating when he realizes how deep he was in his thoughts about you. Fuck, he needs to get a grip.

Fortunately, Jungkook is well distracted in his game and interacting with his followers for the past 2 hours, making up for his almost 2 weeks absence. He yawns as he glances at the clock above his screen which reads 10:39 pm. It's late and his eyes are starting to burn from staring at the screen for too long, deciding it's time to end the stream.

“Okay guys, it's getting late so I think I’m going to end the stream. Thank you guys for playing with me, I had a lot of fun reconnecting with y'all. I’ll definitely be going live again soon this week. Don’t forget to check out Instagram and Twitter for more updates. Love you guys, goodnight! ” Jungkook waves at his camera above his monitor, giving his fans a genuine sweet smile. The comments bid him goodbye.

Kookiejjar: gn <33

User386290: seen u soon

Jkssideh0e: gn bf :)))

Jungkook ends the stream, exhausted but happy he got to go live. Streaming is his main source of income, but he does it because he enjoys it, not because it makes him the most money. Also, he makes money off of his sponsorships and photography sessions. Jungkook is pretty financially stable for a 27 year old, it's just him and Bam.

Jungkook cooks himself a small late night meal after his stream, remembering he didn’t get the chance to eat dinner. He makes his favorite go-to meal: spicy buldak ramen. Even though he might regret it later, he doesn’t care, eager to finally eat something after a few hours.

Jungkook finishes his meal and washes all the dishes he used, then puts Bam back into his play pen. He feels sweaty and dirty after his long day, deciding to take a nice hot shower before bed. He relaxes under the shower faucet, not realizing how tense he is. Fuck, loosen up man, he mentally puts himself in check. Jungkook has piled up a lot of stress this past week and a half. Embarrassingly, he hasn’t gotten himself off or had sex in even longer. Jungkook freezes as he remembers earlier events from his day.

“_elictmoonl1ght: missed u!”

Jungkook quickly finishes his shower, turning off the faucet, drying himself off at the speed of light, not even bothering to put on any clothes. He sprints to his bed, rips his phone off its charger and clicks on Twitter.

Jungkook’s stomach bubbles in excitement wondering how much he’s missed your account. He switches from his personal streaming account to his burner, immediately pressing onto your profile. The first thing he sees is an off guard picture of his side profile with the tip of his pink tongue playing with his lips rings from today's stream. He looks so focused and sexy, yet his cock twitches when he reads the caption:

@_elictmoonl1ght: the nose, the piercings, the jaw line, his lips THE TONGUE??!!! needa to ride his face until he begs me to stop. Fuck, i swear he gets more fine everytime he streams :P

Jungkook throws his phone to the side, stripping from his clothings. He throws his shirt and boxers somewhere on the floor of his room, lying down on his bed. Impatiently, he spits into the palm of his hand, too eager to get up and grab his lotion, and places his hand on his cock, stroking until it's firm.

His long and large fingers wrap around his veiny dick, sticky and wet from his saliva. He lets out a small whimper, cock a little sensitive from not being able to get off for almost two weeks. His cock is red, spurting a bit of precum just from imagining how horny you must’ve been when you wrote about him. Jungkook wishes you were with him right now, stroking his hard cock for him, begging him to cum for you.

He continues to scroll down your page, exclusively looking for explicit posts you’ve written about him. A few swipes later, he finds a new and different story you’ve posted. Jungkook presses on the thread and begins reading, smiling from excitement.

Jungkook roughly pushes me onto the bed, stripping me of my clothes.

“Wet as fuck, baby. All for me, right?” Jungkook eyes down my figure, pulling me to the edge of the bed as he takes off my shorts, leaving me in only my underwear.

“Yeah, Kook, just for you, please don’t tease,.” I beg Jungkook as he traces my slit through my panties, sticking them more to my core than before.

Jungkook quickens the pace he strokes his cock at, imagining you, the mystery writer, laying spread out in front of him in your little panties, giving him a full view of your ass and pussy. If you were here, he’d toy with your pussy outside of your underwear, tracing his finger over your lower lips, making sure to press down on your tight, soaked hole, smacking your ass after watching it jiggle. His pace never stops, nipples becoming hard from the cold air in his room, yet every other part of his body is on fire.

“Gonna give you what you want,” Jungkook begins as he pulls down my panties and throws them onto the floor. He lowers himself in front of me, eyeing my soaked cunt, clit begging for some sort of stimulation. He begins by kissing my inner thighs a few times, occasionally biting on them, causing me to whimper in pain.

After a minute of teasing, he finally brings his lips to my cunt, giving it a long, slow lick from my hole to my clit.

“Shit,” Jungkook groans, eating pussy is one of his favorite things to do. It’s crazy how you’ve been writing about all the things he likes. His cock twitches at the thought of having his head between your thighs, imagining your pussy to be plump and soaked for him, clit throbbing whenever his nose bumps into it. He groans out, never stopping the pace he strokes his veiny cock at, wishing he could have the taste of you in his mouth.

“L-like that, Kook,.” I beg him as he devours me like I’m his last meal. He doesn’t take a moment to breathe, but instead constantly sucks on my clit, occasionally moving down to lick at my quivering hole. However, he stops and removes his face from my pussy. His face is covered in my wetness, some of it on the tip of his nose to his chin.

“Sit up,” he demands me while he lays down on his back. That's it? He’s not going to finish the job?

I sit up and stare at him in confusion when the next few words he says makes my pussy clench in desire.

“Ride my face. C’mon, babe.” Jungkook urges me to straddle his face. I’ve never sat on his face, but I’m not opposed to it.

I straddle him, his eyes staring straight into mine as he grabs the back of my thighs, wasting no time in urging me to sit on his face. When I finally lower myself onto him, I jolt from the pleasure. His nose begins to hit directly onto my clit, wet tongue proding at my hole.

“Fuck, feels so good, Kook, d-dont stop,” I plead him, my legs shaking on each side of his head. His tongue and nose constantly working on my pussy has me lightheaded, my words becoming squeals and whines. I decide to be bold, slightly rocking my hips back and forth across his face, lifting myself up every few seconds to let him breathe.

Jungkook fists his cock at a fast, rough pace. Your words were perfect and made it so realistic to imagine. Jungkook pants, “Fuckkk mh- yeah, like that, baby,” as he imagines you humping his face. His balls tighten, thinking about how tight and wet your pussy probably is. He dreams of your plump pussy constantly rubbing onto his nose and lips, maybe even feeling some of your shortly trimmed pubes brush against his skin.

Jungkook is so fucking close, losing it at the thought of your wetness still connecting your pussy to his mouth. His stomach clenches, eyes squeezing shut, feeling a dribble of sweat running down his defined abs. His cock is harder than ever in these past two weeks. His cock is begging to release all the cum he’s been holding in, balls tensing at the thought of cumming everywhere.

Jungkook can tell I’m close by the way I have a tight grip on his hair, and my constant begs to cum. He eventually complies and gives a final kiss to my pussy.

“Want you to come now. That good with you, baby?” He says as he shoves his mouth onto my poor swollen pussy, not even giving me the chance to answer him.

Jungkook doesn’t stop with his rough sucking and licks, determined to make me cum all over his face. My moans and begs are louder than before, my hands gripping his long, luscious hair. He brings all his attention to my clit, sucking on it harshly. My stomach snaps from all the pressure.

“Mh- cumming, Kook. C-cumming,” I cry out as I ride out my high on his tongue and lips, not stopping until I soak his entire face.

Jungkook finally reaches his breaking point, hot white cum coating the back of his hand and stomach, a little seeping onto his belly button. He continues to milk his cock dry until he whimpers from the overstimulation. He just can’t stop. Not knowing who you are or how you look makes the situation even hotter. You don’t have to show him how you look, your words are just enough to make him cum.

Jungkook finally stops stroking his cock, but leaves his tattooed hand there. It might’ve been the little bit of horniness left in him, but he decides to be a little bold. He clicks on your account, scrolls to the top of your page and presses the little message button in the top right corner, and at that he sends you the message.

“hey, your writing is amazing and i cant lie turns me on a lot. Wanna see if u can put those words to good use bby:)”

——————————————————————————

a/n: hi guys! i really hope you enjoyed part 1 of sdkmn! this is my very first fic ever and im glad to share it yall finally!! i have no idea when part 2 will be sooo pls dont ask LOL but i hope yall enjoyed it and are ready for the next part! pls don’t be shy to share or reblog they are very much appreciated! id also like to thank @dollfaceksj and @peachypinkygloss for helping me so much through the writing process and making this story 10x better!! my asks are always open and i hope yall stay tuned for part 2! thank youuu🫶🏻🥹💞 -eli

taglist:

@dollfaceksj @nini_07777 @ahgasegotarmy116 @jm1003myg @gxtwllsn @babycandy111

@kelly-fushiguro345 @jksjx @earth2fae @kissyfacekoo @s3l3n0phil3 @llallaaa @kingofbodyrolls @jkslaugh97 @diorh0seokie e @rooonilwaazlib @Rosymermaidsinthesand @taebae19 @honeeybunneey @lesoleile @kookssecret @butterymin @ohsweetmimosa

@i-like-puppy-mg @screamertannie

1K notes · View notes

ch3rryfunk · 1 year

Note

More random leon headcanons pls! ❤️

YAY i love random hcs.

Random Leon Kennedy Hcs

☆*:.｡.

★ He collects leather jackets. You’ll never catch him wearing the same jacket twice a week. Unless he’s on a mission.

★ HATES when people touch his hair. (unless it’s his s/o then he’s all for it.)

★ He takes care of his hair. He’s got money, so he doesn’t mind spending a little extra to buy the best products to keep his hair looking good.

★ Loves cologne!! He likes to smell nice and clean.

★ Likes to play relaxing music before going to bed (sometimes he leaves it playing while sleeping.)

★ Is a patient person, unless he’s veeeery angry. Don’t test him.

★ He’s quite good at comforting everyone, except himself.

★ Even though he struggles a lot with his mental health, he’s incapable of crying most of the time.

★ When he feels overwhelmed and sad, he likes going on walks. Helps him clear his head.

★ An avid dad joke enjoyer. He finds them so amusing and genuinely funny.

★ He’s got a flip phone but isn’t used to carrying it around, so he usually forgets it at home. He never forgets to take his work phone with him though.

★ and he’s also terrible at texting. He’d probably lose his patience trying to type out a message on a flip one.

★ is a motorcycle enthusiast. He likes going to bike shops to look at the latest models.

★ He doesn’t love driving cars, but he certainly loves riding motorcycles. He’s a pro at it.

★ He doesn’t know how to react to unexpected compliments.

★ but he enjoys when people flirt back, he’ll give them a cheeky smile.

☆*:.｡.

I am so so SO SORRY I took so long to write this. I’ve been so busy lately I haven’t been able to work on requests :(( I’ll try my best to post them as soon as possible but life is an L rn 😭 anyway hope you enjoy!! <3

496 notes · View notes

oftenderweapons · 3 months

Text

London Calling | KNJ

Pairing: Namjoon x Vixen

Wordcount: 3.1k

Genre: Fluff, smut, pwp, established relationship!AU, idol!Au, Married!AU

Rating: 18+; minors, please do not interact

Synopsis: Vixen has decided to distract herself from Namjoon's incumbent enlistment by focusing on her job. She has accepted adding more international works to her portfolio and is currently in London; too bad Namjoon can't help but post risqué pictures on his Instagram, and it really seems he's doing so to try and get her attention.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, Swearing, Fear of infidelity, Nostalgia. Extremely mild DDLG dynamics, Babygirl!Vixen, Brat!Vixen, Phone sex, Masturbation, Dirty talking. Mentions of: Oral sex (both male and female receiving), Lingerie kink, Sex toys, Spanking. Oh, and one of Joon's friends simps for Vixen.

As usual, you can find my masterlist right here! I wouldn't mind if you took a few seconds to leave a comment or reblog my fic 🥰 Also, my requests are always open!!!

Enjoy 💜✨

“Been hearing someone’s on their worst behaviour.”

Namjoon’s chuckle on the opposite end of the line is everything you need to know. “What can I say, my last moral anchor is busy girlbossing around the world.” He licks his lips and sits down on the sofa, his friends messing around his kitchen, beers and liquors spread around your marble counter. “I’m missing my lucky star.”

“Your guardian angel.”

“My only angel,” he flirts.

The game is back on between you and Namjoon. Ever since you decided to stop waiting around for his enlistment and have started accepting international projects on your portfolio, it’s like no matter where either of you are, it’s always time to flirt on the phone.

Or mess around even more.

He’s touched down in London for you about two weeks ago, showing up at your hotel room with an Agent Provocateur bag dangling from his pretty fingers and the kind of smile that always gets you shimmying out of your panties.

“What are you up to, love? What time is it over there?”

“Uh-huh. I’m the one doing the asking here, mister.”

He puts his glass back on the coffee table, and leans over with his elbows on his knees. “I’m just trying to feed my imagination, little fox. What’s a boy to do, with an empty bed and a sexy wife on the other side of the world?”

“I don’t know, maybe be more careful before talking talks he can’t walk?” you suggest.

He lowers his voice before saying, “You’d be over my knee right now, you know?”

You decide to talk back, just to mess him up further. Your voice is like midnight fog when you tell him, “you’d have to catch me first.”

He steals a glance towards the kitchen. This feels an awful lot like when the two of you began hanging out — the secrecy, the craving, the distance, and the pining. Except this time you have rings on your hands and there’s no doubting loyalty, not on his nor your behalf.

He toys with his own ring, tracing it with his thumb, twisting it a little to the left, then to the right, back and forth.

“It seems you appreciated that quick leak…”

You click your tongue. “One of these days you’re gonna end up naked in those pics and I’ll have to come home to do damage control.”

“Is that all it takes to have you back home? I miss my territorial little vixen.” He stares at your stash of books in the bookshelf, standing tall right next to his, but looking twice more put together.

“I’ve noticed you’ve been acting sluttier lately.”

“At least I haven’t gone entirely shirtless yet.” He picks up the glass again and you hear him swallowing through the line. “Unlike some of my friends. You should consider yourself lucky.”

“Lucky, you say?”

He hears the sound of a glass being put down. “Are you drinking, babygirl?”

You cock an eyebrow and stare at your glass of red wine. “I’m dined and wined. You know which bit is missing. But it seems you’re not that deserving.”

“What did you eat?” He doesn’t grant you the courtesy of winning this sensual verbal sparring. That tiny comment about being dined and wined was a trap, he can tell. Looking so casual and half-hearted can only mean you expected him to go there, and if he does, he’ll probably end up right where you wanted him.

He can do better.

“I had a steak. With a lovely truffle cream. I’ll have to make it for you next time you’re around.” Your reply comes off beat, and he smiles, happy that he caught you off guard.

If this were a match of martial arts, you’d be dwindling a little, your balance compromised. “I’d love to. Miss your tiramisu. Your cheesecake. Your aglio e olio. Your sweet little ass working around the kitchen.”

You laugh, the sound as bright and heartstopping as ever. Blood rushes to his cheeks. He loves making you laugh. “You got the guys over, I assume? Four in the morning?”

“We just finished working. Like maybe an hour ago or so.” He can’t keep calm anymore. Everytime you call him when he’s home, his gaze keeps wandering to every piece of it that belongs to you.

Sometimes it’s suffocating. Sometimes he sleeps back at the studio. Sometimes he stays over at other people’s places.

Now it’s the portrait of your orchids that you had commissioned for him. It sits next to his bonsais, so he can think of your collection each time he’s watering his own.

Sometimes he wonders who is whose subtext, because at times he thinks you’re the one who picked up habits from him, other times he thinks it’s him who accidentally got into certain hobbies through the years so he could be your exact shadow once the two of you finally met and aligned.

“Also, you’re calling at four in the morning,” he observes. “Oh…” He rubs the back of his head, then plops back on the sofa, as if he were deflating slowly. “Right. I’m your booty call.” He chuckles. “Almost forgot.”

“I can find someone else in a more suitable time zone, if that sits well with you,” you reply, your tone just a tiny bit annoyed. His nonchalance irks you just a little.

“That your sneaky link, man?” you hear someone holler on his side.

“So now I’m miss sneaky link, huh? Not bad, mister booty call.” You click your tongue. “I’ll leave you to your friends. I thought you were alone, didn’t mean to disturb.” This could be your chance to win this match.

“No, don’t go because they’re about to. Kind of right now,” he says, looking towards the kitchen and nodding towards the door. “Sorry guys. Vixen’s rule.”

“He don’t deserve you, honey,” one of his friends calls. “Just one chance, miss. Kindly.”

“We’re literally married,” he tells the guy, then to you, “Bum says hi.”

“Oh, hi sweetie. What are your thoughts on the London timezone?” you ask, coquettishly.

“Careful, fox.” Namjoon’s voice is stern when it comes on. It makes you sit taller on your seat, redirecting the pressure in between your thighs. “And you’d better not reply, Bum.”

The guy stares at Namjoon as he says. “For you, anything, my queen. Though, from personal experience, it’s excellent for your late nights and our early mornings. If you know you know,” Bum suggests.

Namjoon slaps the guy’s back with the most sarcastic smile on his face. “Time to go, dude.”

“Starcrossed lovers, that’s our fate, my queen.”

You laugh loudly and Namjoon is a little annoyed. “All the great loves are those that never happened, Bum.”

“Guys, I’m literally right here!?” Namjoon says, embarrassed and just a tad annoyed. “You, get out of my house. And stop trying to seduce my wife.”

“Bum, can you keep an eye on him? Kinda worried I might not be the only sneaky link of his.” You joke about it, but deep down, there’s always a sliver of worry in it. You wouldn’t be surprised if some of his friends were encouraging him to be unloyal to you just because you decided to push forward with your career.

“He’s too busy panting for you to even begin thinking about someone else.” Bum’s putting on his shoes by the door, hushered by Namjoon. His three other friends are similarly getting dressed, laughing at the exchange.

“Literally, Vixen—”

Namjoon looks like he’s baring his teeth at Bum using his nickname for you.

“He’s whipped. We keep him in check, but it’s like guarding a leashed little puppy.”

You giggle, sweet and endeared. “Good. That’s the way I like him.” You lick your lips. “Make sure he doesn’t bare his ass on Instagram.”

“So you’re falling for his little thirst traps?” Bum’s laugh booms in the room and Namjoon wacks him on the head, worried about the neighbours. Also, he doesn’t like admitting that when he posts, he’s thinking about the way you would react when seeing him.

“You know how I am, Bum. I’m always falling for him,” you confess, cheesy and utterly honest at the same time.

Namjoon smiles like the cat who got the cream. “That’s sweet, babygirl. The guys are leaving now. Bye guys,” he says quickly, finally kicking them out.

You try to say bye in return, but you hear the door close and Namjoon is immediately all over you. “Always falling for me, huh?” He heads back towards the sofa. “That’s new.”

“That’s actually so, so old.” You roll your eyes but smile through it anyways.

“You’re my only sneaky link, Vixen. Still got your claw marks all over my back, by the way. Lovely touch.”

“Gotta mark my territory,” you state matter-of-factly.

“Wanna switch this over to a video call?” he suggests, already undoing the first button of his shirt.

“Just so I can be reminded I’m not over there fucking you right?” You snort bitterly. “No way.”

“We could make this our own personal porno,” he suggests, grateful that his trousers are baggy enough to give him extra space around the crotch. “Just a little visual aid.”

“You’re telling me you don’t remember how I rode you last time?” You undo the little bow at the waistband of your pyjama pants, your fingertips tiptoeing around the elastic of your panties.

“Let’s say I wouldn’t mind having a bit more than a memory to hold on to.” As if telepathically connected, he’s also undoing the button and zip of his denim cargos.

“Fair. You usually hold on to my hips while I fuck you.”

He hisses, head thrown back. “And you hold on to my throat when I’ve been an exceptionally good boy.”

A shiver screeches down your torso, then spreads through your midriff and settles somewhere at the small of your back, as if recalling the phantom touch of his hand, of his thumbs imprinting themselves in the twin dimples at the base of your spine. He likes resting his fingers there when he’s taking you from behind. It’s like the little dips were designed for his digits to rest there.

“You’re such a lucky little fucker,” you tease him and he one-ups you,

“I fucking am, but last time I checked you usually sort of profit from it.”

Your sultry laugh is his favourite form of payment — right now he’s richer than he’s ever been.

“Are your hands free, love?”

You let him hang there for a couple long seconds, your breathing heavy. “They’d be freer if you were here,” you tell him. “Maybe not.”

“They’d be all over me, and you know it, little fox.” He purrs as his hand finds a good spot. He’s not yet actually touching himself, but he’s definitely teasing. “Got on a fucking plane for those hands.”

“You flew for twelve hours for these hands.”

“And for that ass,” he adds, quick-witted.

Your laugh is more of a snort. “And that too.”

His zipper is undone, he dips his hand under the waistband of his briefs, shifting it downwards. “For that smart mouth of yours,” he whispers. “Just to kiss it for a bunch of hours.”

“It was very grateful,” you remind him, trying to bluff the fact that your middle finger is now circling your clitoris.

“I remember that.” His heartbeat is starting to accelerate. “I had to stop it from being a little bit too grateful.” He remembers the silky feeling of your hair in between his fingers, the tension in your hand on his thigh as you tried to take more of him. “My birthday girl,” he hums. “And yet, I was the lucky bastard who got presents.” The sight of you in that powder pink corset, with the delicate ruffles, and the feather trims tracing the top of your breasts, palpitating with every single excited breath you took.

It had been like seeing a map of your arousal, goosebumps rising on any inch of skin he had dared lay his eyes on.

“You were so responsive,” he whispered. “You were so fucking wet.”

“You teased me for almost an hour,” you object.

“I’ll have to make it two hours next time then.” He’s throbbing in his own palm, circling his tip, hissing when he hits a too-sensitive spot. “Maybe with the tickler still.”

“It was delightful, I will admit that.” You’re leaning on your hand now, cupped between your thighs. “Wish your face was between my legs.”

“Wish you were sitting on it, baby.” He bites his lip, as if he could recall the feel, the taste of you on his mouth. “Can’t believe it’s been two weeks already.”

“I can’t wait to be home,” you moan.

He can tell you’re touching yourself, from your ragged breathing, and from the way your voice has become more vulnerable, and more impatient too. “I’ll make sure to clear my schedule when you do. We can do that ‘seven days a week’ type of shit.”

You moan and he laughs to himself.

“Are you gonna come for me, my love?” he asks fondly, his voice like a dark caress. “Are you thinking about my mouth fucking you? About my tongue stroking you, feeling how wet and warm and sweet you are?”

“Joon, please,” you beg, a desperate little laugh.

“No need to beg, babygirl. You can have everything you want when you’re with me,” he continues, with his calm, direct voice. “You can take it, love. You can have me deep inside you, and you can suck on my fingers if you’re struggling to keep your voice down.” He’s quickened his own pace, trying to climb as fast as you do. “Or you can be loud, and tell the neighbours who’s making you feel this good.”

“When I get home I want you to mess me up for days. You’re gonna mark me, and make love to me and fuck me and feed me. You’re gonna cuddle me to sleep, then wake me up with your hand between my legs.”

You’re holding your breath as you speak, your high approaching like an incumbent, massive wave.

“I promise, love.”

“Are you coming too?” you ask, and he hums simply.

“I’m close.”

“I want you to fuck me while I sit on your lap.”

“On the sofa?”

“On the sofa, on the floor, in bed, I don’t care.” You gasp, then chuckle as you hit an indecently good angle with your fingers. “I want to hold you as we make love.”

“You will, baby.”

“I wanna whisper in your ear that you’re my one and only. That you’re the only one in the whole world who can get me this good.”

He loves when you get emotional during sex. He loves when you start to ramble and you tell him all those things you usually keep to yourself. “I can’t wait either. I miss you in bed. I miss you at every meal, I miss going to our galleries. I miss every fucking thing.” He’s getting desperate. “And most of all, I miss those eyes on me.”

“I’m coming,” you gasp, out of the blue, the idea of sitting on his lap, naked, making love to him, your mouth clamped around the crook of his shoulder to keep quiet, his hands tracing your back, his eyes looking for yours, for confirmation, for loyalty, for reassurance, for companionship.

“That’s my darling.” He can let go now, and he fucks his hand with intention, with neat powerful jerks. He helps himself with strong thrusts of his pelvis, and precise tugs of his hand too. He grunts when he hears your sweet whimpers on your side of the call, and finally he follows you into pleasure, with the image of your head thrown back, your plump lips agape, your hair tumbling wild behind you as you bounce on him.

He can almost feel the aftertaste of your perspiration on the tip of his tongue.

“Wow,” you say as soon as you manage to recollect yourself.

He’s still sort of numb, his orgasm spilled on his stomach and happy trail. Just a glimpse down and he’s already envisioned the phantom of you studying his semen, lowering yourself to his navel and tracing it with your digit, only to bring it to your mouth to have a taste. He clicks his tongue in disappointment.

“Damn, I wanna cuddle the fuck out of you and you’re too far away.” He reaches for a tissue to clean himself quickly. “I guess that’s why we don’t do this more often. I miss the aftercare.” He pulls himself back in his briefs, then blocks his phone between his shoulder and ear and stands to get rid of the tissue. “How are you feeling, love?”

“Hunting for chocolate.”

“Oh, baby…” He giggles, endeared. “Should I order something for you?”

“No… it’s okay.” You’re a little bit sad, but you try your best not to let it show.”

“Not even those glass beads you’d seen on our favourite website?”

You widen your eyes. “Let’s not make say things we don’t mean now...”

Namjoon laughs fondly. “Thought so.” He waits a little. “We can just talk, by the way. Or you can go grab a toy and we can keep going with this. We could discuss in great details what you intend to do to me once you’re back.”

“We could do that. Or we could video call and you could watch me hump this little thing you got me.”

He grins. “Then let me get comfy. We’ve got quite the night coming up.”

You smile. “We do.”

He hesitates. “We don’t have to, you know? If you don’t want to video call. I’m okay with just hearing you.”

You pause. Your love for him multiplies exponentially in your chest. “Sure we don’t have to. But I want to.”

Namjoon smiles. “Okay.”

“Get comfy, lucky boy,” you tease him.

“I’ll be right there.”

It’s almost six in the morning when you fall asleep. He’s propped the phone right beside him on the pillow and though he’s found himself dropping it a couple times, he’s refused to let go until he was sure you were asleep.

Now he closes the video call and locks his phone, putting it back on the nightstand. He pulls your pillow close, hugging it to his chest, then throws a leg on top of it. He places another pillow in between his legs, where your thighs would normally tangle with his.

He breathes in the vague scent of you left on the bed — not much since the sheets have been changed and he can only smell the laundry scent you normally use, of sandalwood and cedar, warm and spicy.

Twenty-three days.

He can handle it.

He falls asleep with the memory of your body like ivy against his own. Even this far apart, he is and will always be covered in you.

#kim namjoon #namjoon scenario #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x yn #namjoon fanfiction #bts fanfiction #52 hertz #btswritersclub #bangtansorciere #houseofddaeng #namjoon x vixen #kim namjoon married au #namjoon imagine #namjoon idol au #bts blog

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lautski-week · 16 days

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Lautski Nation, we are so back!

(Q&A + general info under cut!)

Welcome to the third semiannual Lautski week. This event occurs twice a year, once in the summer and once in the winter, to commemorate the shared love so many of us have for Hatchetfield High's most unlikely it couple! Mod is @peterstankoffski and uses they/them pronouns, and you've probably seen me lurking around the lautski tag since it was created. It's been a lovely little 2.5 years getting to enjoy this ship with everyone.

This year the summer event will be in July instead of May so everyone who is interested has plenty of time to prepare. I understand now through June is fairly bust for many people due to finals, so moving it later into the summer was definitely for the best (thank you to everyone who voted in the dates tiebreaker poll the other day!)

And with that, some FAQ!

Q: What are alternates?

A: Alternates are two extra prompts in case one of them leaves you stumped! They can be used any day, or they can not be used at all! It’s up to each individual participant!

Q: Do I have to do all seven days?

A: You’re free to do as many as you want! You can do all seven, you can do just a few, hell, you could do all nine in you wanted! This isn’t a challenge, it’s an event. The main goal is to make some posts about this ship we’re all brainrotting for and having fun.

Q: What can I make?

A: Anything you want! Art, fics, edits, memes, etc. Nothing’s off the table.

Q: How do I post?

A: I’ll reblog anything made for the event to this blog and my main. If you’d like to be featured, please @ THIS blog. Additionally, I’d recommend tagging works with #lautski week so everyone’s works can all be found in the same place.

Q: I was late! Can I still post?

A: Of course! I’ll keep reblogging new posts tagged #lautski week and/or mention this blog through July 17!

Q: Can I post to AO3, then link it back here?

A: Feel free! This year I will also be setting up a Lautski Week collection, which I will link on the blog closer to time. Feel free to use it!

Q: Can I post to (insert any other fanfic site here) then link it back here?

A: Same as AO3. Go ahead!

Q: One of my wips fits *insert prompt here!* Can I post it for that day?

A: You can, but please don’t post before the event begins!

Q: Am I allowed to write smut?

A: Yes, but please have it properly tagged on both tumblr and AO3. On this blog, I will use the additional tag "smut warning"

That's it for now! I'll reblog this occasionally between now and July, plus advertising and answering any additional questions, but other than that, enjoy the rest of your spring (if you're in the Northern Hemisphere anyway)! See you all again soon 💜

#lautski #lautski week #peter spankoffski #pete spankoffski #stephanie lauter #starkid #steph lauter #team starkid #abstinence camp #nerdy prudes must die #npmd

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mc-i-r · 8 months

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Disposable Heroes

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four Ao3

A/N: Guys, I’m so sorry for the late update! Life has been crazy for me the past couple weeks but I hope that I can get back to writing more regularly. This chapter is the well-awaited Eddie pov, as well as a ton of backstory for him that I didn’t really plan on but it just kinda came out. This chapter is kinda rushed, I’m gonna be honest, but I wanted to get it out to you guys as soon as possible since its been awhile. There are gonna be some major warnings here so I’ll post them below. Take care of yourselves and stay safe, now enjoy!

Tw: homophobia, homophobic language, child abuse, domestic violence, referenced drug use, Eddie being incredibly gay

———

It’s a muggy Sunday morning, the summer sun burning through the last vestiges of chilled night air and frosted dewdrops as it rises from its slumber. Like the sun, Eddie rises as well. However, it’s with much less fanfare and grace due to the obnoxious pounding at his front door.

He groans dramatically, shoving his face in his pillow and willing whoever the fuck decided to bother him at—he glances at his alarm clock on the other side of the room, squinting to read the numbers—nine in the morning to go away. His wish must have pissed off some universal god because the knocking only gets louder, making the window above his desk rattle with every shake of the door.

With a sigh big enough to rival the windy intro of “Holy Diver”, he pulls himself to the door in a zombie-like state. Movements sluggish from his interrupted sleep, he misses the doorknob twice before finally turning it, throwing it open with newfound strength to find one Robin Buckley in all her glory. Her fist is raised and ready to knock again, her face the epitome of righteous fury as she glares at him.

“Uh, hey Buck. Whatcha doi—“ he begins, only to be interrupted by Robin shoving past him and barging into the trailer. He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face and pulling on his hair slightly before shutting the door.

Kids and their manners nowadays.

“Yeah, sure, come on in. Totally fine. I wasn’t sleeping or anything, noooo,” he says to himself before turning to face his intruder. Whatever Buckley is upset about seems serious, and from the icy look she’s giving him it also seems like it’s his fault. Her hands are on her hips like she’s in a Steve Harrington impersonation contest and plans on taking home a first place prize. Something in him squirms at the thought.

But, he is nothing if not a performer. So, of course, he puts on a show.

“Lady Buckley,” he declares in a posh British accent, bowing deeply with a flourish on his arm. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company on this fine morning?”

He’s expecting a fond eye roll, or a laugh, or huff, or something. He gets silence.

“Cut the bullshit, Eddie. We need to talk about Steve,” she demands.

Steve… Now isn’t that an interesting subject?

Now, Eddie has always been different. He was loud, and jumpy, and fidgety, and the other kids never wanted to be friends with him because they were scared. He was always covered in dirt, always barefoot because he either forgot to put on shoes or the ones he had were too small for his ever-changing feet. He would talk to himself, mutter little reminders under his breath or work through the questions plaguing his mind aloud because he just functioned better that way.

Then, at eleven, he found out just how different he really was. He was outside during recess when he fell off the monkey bars and scraped his hands and knees. He huddled on the ground, tears falling down his small cheeks because it hurt and his wounds felt like they were throbbing. Then a boy, James, ran up to him and asked him if he was okay. James had stark blond hair, a face full of freckles, and bright green eyes. He looked so concerned for Eddie, and was gentle when he picked up one of his hands to inspect the cuts littered there. It was that gentle touch that elicited a flutter of butterflies in his stomach, and ever since then Eddie knew.

When he had gotten home to the trailer that day, he felt confused. Other people in his class were constantly talking about who they “liked”; boys liking girls and girls liking boys. About how they would get all nervous around their crushes, and Eddie realized he had never felt that before. All of the girls in his class were just… girls to him. They never gave him that fluttery feeling James had. But… no one ever talked about boys liking boys. No one ever said if it was okay, so Eddie thought it must not be. That boys liking boys wasn’t okay. That he wasn’t okay.

It took awhile, but he finally confessed to Wayne that he liked boys, that he got all the little butterflies that boys were supposed to get about girls. Wayne shook his head and told him that he could feel butterflies for anyone he pleased, as long as they made him happy. They both cried that night, and ended up in a hug so tight they nearly fused together.

Since then, Eddie’s come to accept the fact that he’s gay. Has added it to his whole anti-conformist persona, even. So when high school hit he let himself finally be free. He joined Hellfire club, made friends with the upperclassmen who ran it, and learned all the intricacies of D&D that he never imagined he would. After two years, he met Gareth and Jeff who joined Hellfire much in the way he did. Then, Grant joined halfway through Eddie’s junior year and he quickly recruited him as well. He found his friends, his people, and he finally let himself be himself around them.

He told them he was gay after a long session of lazily practicing in Gareth’s garage and smoking, the weed having loosened both his limbs and his lips. They were all extremely chill with it, even after the weed had worn off. That, however, didn’t exempt them from making fun of him though.

Eddie was loitering in the hallway after school, waiting on Gareth to finish up a quiz he missed the week prior, when none other than Steve Harrington walked out of the pool room in nothing but those little speedos that leave zero to the imagination. Seriously, all those girls were right, holy shit. After he picked his jaw up off the floor, he noticed Steve was looking at him with that adorable little confused puppy look before a god damned smirk fell across his face. Eddie’s face, he knew, had to rival that of a Victorian nobleman fawning over a sliver of pale skin shown by a lady across the room with her face hidden by an elaborate fan because he was literally drooling for the man in front of him.

It got considerably worse when Steve leaned down to drink from a nearby water fountain, making Eddie’s mouth go completely dry with this blatant offering of ass right in his face. In hindsight, it might not have been an offering, per say, but it was definitely there and Eddie was definitely staring. So it really wasn’t a surprise that he jumped when Gareth tapped his shoulder, Eddie having not heard him come up behind him, and he turned on his heel so fast he’s surprised he didn’t get whiplash.

“Dude, you good?” Gareth asked. Eddie opened his mouth, squeaked out, “I’m fine” and immediately felt his face go up in flames. Gareth glanced over Eddie’s shoulder and he could see in slow motion the series of thoughts that crossed his mind. Gareth went from concerned to confused to understanding to smug so fast it was almost comical. When their eyes met, Eddie’s went wide.

“Don’t you dare say a word,” he hissed, and the smug look only intensified.

Once they got to his van, Gareth immediately rounded on him.

“Seriously? Steve Harrington?” Gareth teased. “Of all people, it had to be that douche?”

Eddie groaned and clenched his eyes shut. “I know, Garebear, now shut up before I push you out of the van.”

Of course, news about his little crush spread around his friend group like wildfire, and soon enough he was being teased by them relentlessly. Eddie knew his crush wouldn’t get very far, Steve was very clearly straight and in a happy relationship with Nancy Wheeler of all people. Still, Eddie couldn’t stop thinking about that smirk.

Just as his crush began to fade away, Steve showed up to school with a busted face and eye bags deep enough to rival shitty vampire Halloween make-up from a toddlers costume contest. Feelings came rushing back, the intense need to protect, to find out what happened and get justice for that pretty face.

Then it kept happening, and Steve showed up to school with a beat up face yet again. However, judging by his stumbling and droopy eyes, it came with a concussion this time. Just when Eddie was trying to figure out who did it, Billy Hargrove came stalking through the empty halls and all attention was focused on his scabbed knuckles. On the hungry glare he sent Steve’s way. On the way Steve shrank back a little on instinct.

And Eddie… Eddie just couldn’t leave well enough alone, now could he?

He walked up to Steve, brows furrowed. “Harrington?”

Harrington didn’t turn, eyes still focused on the spot where Billy had been before. Eddie tapped his shoulder. “Steve?”

He jumped that time, like Eddie had actually hit him, and spun to face him. Up close, his face looked a hell of a lot worse and Eddie had to suppress a wince just looking at him. Steve looked at him confused, though it was hard to tell between the swelling and assortment of bandages on his face.

“…Munson?” Steve began. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come up.”

He said it flippantly, with a wave of his hand towards his left ear like that explained everything. It didn’t, but Eddie felt like it wasn’t his place to push.

“You good, man? You look like you got in a fight with a dump truck and lost,” Eddie said. “Badly.”

He expected Steve to scoff and roll his eyes, push past him and hit his shoulder too hard to be an accident. He expected him to spit some barb and walk away, to leave Eddie there in the hallway alone. None of that happened, though.

Instead, Steve smiled. A little self-deprecating, but a smile nonetheless. He huffed a laugh.

“Make it a supercharged dump truck and you’ve got it right,” Steve joked at his own expense. It resulted in a shocked laugh bursting from Eddie’s lips, which he immediately stopped by smacking a hand over his mouth.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, pulling his hand away. “That’s not funny. I mean… your joke was, just not,”—he gestured to Steve’s… everything—“this.”

“It’s okay man, I know what you meant,” Steve said sincerely and Eddie doubted why he was ever called King Steve. The person who stood in front of him was the furthest thing from what those jocks supposedly worshiped that Eddie had to hide another bubble of laughter.

“Seriously, dude, did you even go to a doctor?” Eddie asked, and at Steve’s wince he knew the answer. He rolled his eyes and slung an arm around his shoulders, careful not to land too hard in case he was bruised there too, and led him down the hallway towards the nurse’s station.

“Uh,” Steve began. “Where are we going?”

“The nurse,” he explained. “Figured a look wouldn’t hurt, right?”

Steve’s shoulders relaxed a little under his arm, and Eddie decided to focus on him during their walk down the empty hallway. He noticed the way his hair bounced a little with every step, how a couple strands were threatening to fall from their perfectly coiffed positions. He noticed his moles and freckles, how he had a smattering of faint ones all over his face from time in the sun. He noticed how his nose was a little crooked now, with a bump on the bridge that wasn’t there before the weekend. He noticed how pretty his eyes were, with at least three different shades of brown all swirled together like melted chocolate with flecks of forest green nestled in the folds.

He noticed that Steve was looking at him.

They had come to a stop in front of the nurse, yet Eddie’s arm was still over his shoulders. He quickly retracted it, but Steve didn’t move away and neither did he.

“Well, this is your stop,” Eddie nearly whispered out. Steve smiled, just a small quirk of his lips, and his eyes flitted across Eddie’s face.

“Thanks, Eddie,” he started. Steve took a step backwards toward the station and did a little wave with his fingers that had no right being as endearing as it was. “See you around.”

With that, he disappeared behind the thick mahogany door and Eddie was left there alone, face full of flames and smiling like he was in fucking love with the guy.

Fuck, maybe he was a little bit in love with the guy.

That feeling didn’t waver, not even after seeing him in a skimpy sailor uniform as he scooped overpriced ice cream for toddlers in the Mall. Or, when he was pinning him to the rickety wall of the boathouse he was hiding in after seeing Chrissy murdered in front of him by some freaky wizard from an alternate dimension with a broken bottle to his beautifully freckled throat.

That feeling greatly intensified when he saw Steve take an honest to god bite out of a demonic bat and spit the flesh and blood out on the dried lakebed in the previously mentioned alternate dimension.

And, really, you can’t blame him for falling all the way when he found out exactly who dragged his half-dead body out of hell and saved his life.

So yeah, Steve was a very interesting subject indeed.

“Is… Is he okay?” Eddie questions as he straightens from his hunched position, head tilting to the side and making his bangs fall in his eyes. Robin throws her hands up with a mighty huff and a frustrated groan.

“Obviously not!” She exclaims. She starts pacing around his living room, back and forth in front of the coffee table. “He’s obviously not okay because you’ve been avoiding him and making him feel like shit for months and I’m actually really worried about him ‘cause he’s been doing stupid shit that can get him killed and I don’t know how much longer he can go on like this before it completely ruins him.”

As Robin rambles, her face turns a bright shade of pink. She finishes her speech, sucking in a deep breath as if she ran out of air. Eddie’s brows furrow.

“I haven’t been avoiding Steve,” he defends weakly. He hasn’t, not really. He just… he doesn’t want to get hurt.

Okay yes, Eddie is practically in love with the guy, but that doesn’t mean Steve feels the same about him. They’re friends, that’s it. Steve is going to find some beautiful girl and get married and have the houseful of kids he’s always wanted and Eddie will be here, still pining from afar. He knows it would be easier to just forget about him, and forget about the feelings clutching his heart like a starved hawk with its first fulfilling catch in months. That’s why he’s been slowly letting go over the past few weeks, trying—and failing—to get that stupid pretty boy out of his head. Of course, it’s not working, and every day he spends not talking to Steve feels like hell.

So no, he’s not avoiding Steve. He just doesn’t think he could survive it if he confesses and Steve rejects him completely. Staying away means he won’t accidentally reveal his feelings for the man, and judging by how much he’s feeling, it wouldn’t be very hard for that scraggly cat to come clawing and screeching out of the proverbial bag.

Robin, however, thinks the opposite because according to the look she’s giving him, she says he absolutely fucking has.

Eddie sighs. “Okay, maybe I have just a little bit but it’s not—“

Eddie freezes, stomach plummeting as Robin's rambling words take purchase in his mind. She said Steve was doing something stupid, something that could kill him. Flashes of a night now a distant memory play in his mind, one filled with panicked breaths, stilted tears, and a bloody bat with nails.

“Robin… What do you mean by ‘stupid shit’?” Eddie asks tentatively. Part of him wants to know the answer, while part of him fears the idea of ever finding out. Robin only gives him a confused look and crosses her arms.

“Eddie, that’s totally not the point of this conversation and you know it—“ Eddie cuts her off by waving his hands.

“Robin! Just…” he trails off. Should he tell her about Steve? He promised he wouldn’t but…

“Okay, I have to tell you something about Steve but please please don’t tell him I told you because I promised him I wouldn’t but if you also know something about him then I think you should know about this too,” he rushes out, words tumbling fast out of his mouth as his lungs scream for air. Robin’s icy glare has melted a bit, turning into one of anxiety and caution.

He sighs and flops down on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees as he looks down at his hands. He feels more than sees Robin sit next to him and he knows he has her attention.

“What happened, Eddie?” She prompts, and he takes it as a sign to continue.

“I had a visit from Steve awhile back, around four or five days ago,” he begins. “It was early in the morning and I couldn’t sleep so I was writing notes for a new campaign idea in the living room. I could feel that something was… off, so I looked out the window and there he was.”

He ran a hand over his face, pushing his bangs back and pulling on the ends. He glances over at Robin to find her looking at him. He squeezes his eyes closed for a moment before looking back at her.

“He wasn’t all there, Robin. Like… like he was trapped in his mind or something. I thought,” he huffs a deprecating laugh, “for a moment there, I thought he was cursed.”

He doesn’t mention that the image found its way in his head and can’t seem to find its way out, like a stubborn housefly who keeps banging against the glass hoping to be freed. The thought of Steve floating—eyes rolled back in his head while his lids flutter and his limbs shudder and break one by one—has kept him awake on more nights than he can count. The thought of him being subjected to his worst nightmares given life, all the lies that he tells himself turned to truth. The thought of Eddie being completely helpless, watching him die in agony in front of him.

He doesn’t mention that every night since then, he’s called Steve. He needed to hear his voice, to know he was okay. To know he was alive. He never got a call back.

“I got him to come inside but he didn’t stay long. Something spooked him, I think, I just… I don’t know, it was really weird. Like…” he trails off, unable to find the words.

“Like he was in fight or flight mode?” Robin suggests, and he nods.

“Pure instinct.”

Robin groans. “Shit, this is worse than I thought.”

“Wait, did he tell you?” He asks. Steve was so insistent on Eddie not telling her—made him promise, in fact—so why…?

“Well… after a very long, very emotional, and very vulnerable conversation, yes. He told me on his own terms though, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she supplies. “He… He didn’t tell me a ton of details, though. Not… Not like that.”

There’s a pause as Robin clenches her eyes closed and looks away from him.

“I didn’t know it was that bad,” her voice comes out just barely above a whisper, something he wouldn’t have heard if he wasn’t right next to her. Eddie stays silent, unwilling to break the solemn mood. Robin, however, misses that message entirely as she smacks his arm.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me, doofus?!” She accuses, giving him a half-hearted glare that is no less threatening. Eddie holds his hands up in surrender, unable to hide the exasperated look on his face.

“He made me promise!!” Eddie defends. “Plus he gave me those damn puppy dog eyes and I couldn’t say no.”

“He is really good at that, especially when he wants something. He says he has no clue but I bet you he does,” Robin whispers, almost conspiratory as if they’re sharing a terrible secret. Eddie can’t help but smile and shake his head. Screw Harrington and his stupid pretty eyes.

“Did he say anything else while he was here?” Robin asks after a moment of silence.

“No, that was the only thing he said really, other than an absent ‘I’m fine’ before he bolted out the door. It was a very uh… one-sided conversation,” Eddie explains. “He mostly gave only one or two word answers before he panicked and ran.”

“I’m gonna assume he didn’t tell you why he left?” She asks, and at the shake of his head she curses. “Fuck.”

“Fuck indeed.”

Robin shifts beside him, raising her hand to mindlessly chew on her thumbnail. He thinks the conversation is over. Or, rather, wishes it were over.

That universal god must really hate Eddie today because Robin roughly shakes her head and waves her hands around, letting out a huff.

“Okay, one problem at a time. That was totally not the point of this little talk and you know it, Munson,” she admonishes. “Why. Are. You. Avoiding. Steve?”

She punctuates each word with a, quite literal, punch to the arm. Eddie reels back, dramatically clutching his bruised arm and gives her a fake glare.

��Ow!!” He rubs his arm. For her incredibly bony arms, she really can pack a punch. He’s only half joking that it hurts.

“Answer the question!”

“Fine fine…” he takes a deep breath, knee bouncing with building anxiety before he stands up, unable to quell the urge to move. He paces twice in front of the coffee table before he has the nerve to look at her waiting gaze.

“So, as you know, I am a raging homosexual,” he states, and at his pause, she nods. “And I miiiiiight have a teeny weeny, itsy bitsy, enormous crush on him.”

The end of his sentence is rushed out, words jumbled together as he screws his eyes closed and waits for… whatever Robin’s response is going to be. He waits for five seconds. Then ten. Then twenty-five because yes he’s counting. If he knows one thing about Robin Buckley it’s that she doesn’t know when to stop talking so silence is a very rare occurrence for her and now its been a whole minute and something must be wrong so he opens his eyes to find her—

The only word that even remotely comes close to encompassing the expression on her face is seething.

He instinctively takes a step back.

“Edward Lee Munson you better explain yourself right fucking now or I swear to every god out there that I will rip out your spleen and feed it to the neighborhood dogs before you take a step out that door,” Robin all but growls out, eyes icy and cold as they stare through him. He’s quick to explain because he really quite values his spleen, thank you very much.

“Okay, okay, geez I get it! Fine,” he huffs. “I’ve been avoiding Steve because it’s hard to be around him.”

Robin only raises an eyebrow. Eddie groans. He really wishes he didn’t have to explain his big, fat, gay love this early in the morning.

“It’s hard because he’s so…. So Steve all the time. He’s so kind and caring and hot— god, Birdie, he’s so fucking hot—“

“Okay, yeah, I didn’t need to know that,” Robin interrupts.

“Sorry,” he says, a bit sheepish. “Every little smile he gives me feels like a swarm of butterflies are fighting horde-style to get out of my stomach. I just…

“I think I’m in love with him,” Eddie confesses. The way her eyes blow wide is comical, and he’s half expecting them to pop and burst like they do in cartoons.

“But I know better,” he gives her a sad smile. “I know that I’m not special, he doesn’t mean it like that. Like I want it to. And…. And I know he never will.

“I thought that distancing myself would make the feelings go away, make it… I don’t know, hurt less? But not seeing Steve at all… fuck, it hurts worse than dying and I know what that feels like. Now I don’t even have him as a friend,” he scoffs at himself, shakes his head a little and focuses on a framed picture of him, Steve, Robin, and Dustin from graduation on the wall. Focuses on how Steve’s arm is wrapped around his shoulders, hand gripping his upper arm as he smiles shyly at the camera. How Eddie himself is leaning into his side, tucked under his arm as if he belongs there. As if he’ll ever belong there. He looks back at Robin.

“But this is what’s best. I can’t have my stupid heart feeling things my brain knows it shouldn’t,” Eddie ends his little speech by flopping back down on the couch. Part of him regrets telling her, but another small, itty bitty part is almost grateful.

Eddie’s always had a way of caring too much, even from a young age. Wayne could tell you better than anyone that Eddie has always had a soft side. He could tell you that Eddie refused to let him kill any of the bugs that got into the trailer when the weather turned cold and insisted that they be put outside under the trailer where it was at least a little warmer. He could tell you that every time Eddie would see another person cry, he would too.

He’s just always been like that, so carrying this around with him everyday? It was becoming too much to bear, having to put on a face around everyone so no one could tell. So no one could see how it was breaking him inside. Wearing him down to the bone. Slowly, slowly killing him.

Robin sighs beside him and he had almost forgotten she was there. Her voice is quiet and strangely gentle as she speaks.

“Why do you think that, Eddie?”

What?

“What?” He asks incredulously and knows his face is in a similar state to his voice.

“Why do you think Steve wouldn’t like you like that? Has he said anything to make you think he wouldn’t?” She clarifies, which really doesn’t clarify anything at all for him because what?

“Um… are we talking about the same Steve? You know, Steve Harrington, Hawkins’ resident ladies man? Why the fuck would you think I’d have a shot?” He explains. “He’s so painfully straight and I am so painfully not, Robin.”

Robin just looks at him like she’s trying to read his mind. Or, rather, push a thought into his mind. Waiting for something to click. It doesn’t. Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Besides, Steve never tried to talk to me about the whole distance thing, so I just—“

“You know what happens when people assume things, Eddie,” Robin interrupts.

“—figured that he didn’t mind,” Eddie finishes with a glare. Robin closes her eyes and takes a breath as if calming herself. She pinches her nose, right between her eyes like Steve always does when he’s frustrated or tired, and turns to him. She takes his hands in hers, and her face is only a mere mask of calm, the tumbling waves of anger rolling just under the surface.

“Eddie,” she begins. “Have you ever thought of the possibility that Steve doesn’t talk about his feelings? That he would keep it all bottled up inside like he does with literally everything else?”

Well, when she puts it like that…

“Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Robin agrees. “I only found out about this whole… thing two days ago and that was only because I just so happened to catch him falling asleep at work. He wouldn’t have told me if I didn’t ask him, I know that for sure. He… Eddie, he honestly believes that this is all his fault. That he’s the one that fucked everything up between you and he kids.”

Eddie’s brain screeches to a halt. “Wait, what do the kids have to do with this?”

“You haven’t told them anything?” Robin asks, eyes going a little wide.

“Have I told a bunch of teenagers—whose opinions I regretfully respect—that I have a crush on their babysitter? No, I have not.”

“Okay, yeah that was a stupid question, sorry,” she amends. “Just… the kids are avoiding Steve and I can’t think of a reason why.”

“They’re what!? Wait, why haven’t I heard of this until now?” Eddie exclaims. Robin gives him a look that makes him deflate a little. “Let me guess, you only found out two days ago?”

“Bingo, we have a winner!” Robin fake cheers, raising her arms in a mock-celebratory fashion. She drops them with a huff. “They haven’t talked to him in weeks, Eddie, and I think it’s because you have been avoiding him.”

Her tone isn’t accusatory, but it still makes him feel like shit.

“They must have picked up the sense that something was going on between you two and assumed they should be avoiding him too,” she suggests. Eddie leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“I don’t get how they could think that, though. I mean, Steve has been nothing but good to them for years now.”

“I know,” Robin agrees. “But they’re kids. Stupid, dumb, ungrateful kids, but they’re still kids.”

Eddie drops his head in his hands, pressing hard on his eyes until spots form behind his eyelids.

“I really fucked this up, didn’t I?” He asks it rhetorically, but Robin gives a noise of agreement anyway. “How do I fix this, Birdie?”

“You could start by talking to him,” Robin suggests.

Now isn’t that a terrifying thought?

Because knowing you have feelings for someone is one thing, but telling them? That’s something so far out of the realm of possibility for him that he’s never even thought about considering it.

“Have you lost your fucking mind, Buckley?” Eddie exclaims, looking over at her with wide eyes. “I’d like to keep all my teeth if you don’t mind. I mean, I know I’m not your type and everything but some poor schmuck would probably like to look at this face one more time before it's beat all black and blue.”

Robin only rolls her eyes at his rambling—which is rather hypocritical of her if you ask him, since she seems to treat rambling as an Olympic sport she plans on winning every time she opens her mouth. She grabs his face between her hands and honest to god shakes him.

“I can’t tell you everything, but I’m telling you to trust me and talk to him,” she practically demands, giving him a pointed look much like the one from before. Except he still doesn’t know what it means, as that final piece has yet to click into place.

He nods in her hold, partially afraid of her now, and she releases him.

“We need to fix this. Now,” Eddie insists. He looks over at her. “We need to talk to the kids.”

Eddie stands up, running to his room and groaning at the mess he left. Tossing his sheets and blankets back on the bed, he reaches under his bed for the walkie he knows he last saw under there three days ago. Except, it’s not there. He stands up, scrunches his eyebrows, and thinks.

Let’s see… it was next to the keychain that was on top of the VHS sitting on the books on the corner of the desk, then he moved it when he had to answer one of Lucas’ questions which he did while he walked around the trailer and he laid it down when he finished to get some cheese from the fridge, meaning—

Eddie runs back to the kitchen, finding the walkie on top of the fridge, right where he thought it would be.

“Got ya!” He grabs it and runs back to the living room where Robin is waiting very impatiently.

“Where even was that?” She asks but he ignores her, electing to set the frequency so he can talk to the kids all at once instead of answering her. He presses the button.

“This is Eddie the Banished calling an emergency Hellfire meeting pronto,” he orders into the speaker. “I repeat, emergency Hellfire meeting.”

He waits for a response. One minute. Two minutes. Three—

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Eddie mumbles, pressing the button again. “Over.”

Immediately, Dustin responds. “Hear you loud and clear, Eddie. Is this a code red situation? Over.”

“Nope, not a code red. More of a uh…” he glances over at Robin who shrugs. “Code yellow? I think. Over.”

“What the hell is ‘code yellow’? We don’t even have one of those,” comes Erica’s, as always, sarcastic remark. Eddie can faintly hear Lucas yelling in the background.

“Munson, you better not be shitting with us.”

“I promise you, Red, I wouldn’t. Not about this.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, people! You’re supposed to say ‘over’ when you’re done talking! Over.”

“Shove it, Dustybuns, the adults are talking.”

Eddie has to hold the walkie away from him at Dustin’s responding shriek. He presses a hand over his eyes. These kids are going to kill him one day.

“Guys, this is serious. Just get your asses over to my trailer as soon as possible. Robin’s already here, does someone have Little Byers and Supergirl?”

“I’ve got them. Over and out,” Mike responds.

“Erica and I are on our way. Over and out,” Lucas says.

“Be there in fifteen. Over and out,” Dustin declares. Eddie glances at Robin, sharing equally nervous and worried looks. This is not going to be fun.

Thirty minutes later, all of the kids are cramped in Eddie’s living room. Lucas, Max, El, and Mike are scrunched together on the couch, while Will and Dustin sit on the floor in front of them. Erica claimed Wayne’s recliner as soon as her and Lucas got there, refusing to move for the older teens.

Robin is standing next to him, hands on her hips again—really driving home the whole “Steve is my platonic soulmate” bit—as he stands there with his arms crossed. The two of them remind Eddie of disappointed parents about to tell off their kids, which, in reality, isn't too far off.

“Okay, what the hell?” Dustin asks, still breathless from the trek there. “I literally just got home an hour ago. Why did you call us and make us bike all the way here in the heat?”

“Because you deserve it for being shitheads,” Eddie defends and rolls his eyes. He’s met with a cacophony of dweeby teen voices as they retaliate.

“What did we do this time?”

“What?! We didn’t do anything!”

“What did Dustin do, now?”

“Me? Why am I the one being blamed? I wasn’t even here!”

“Because you’re too damn nosey, dude.”

“Ouch, Lucas. Ouch.”

“Hey!” Eddie yells, clapping his hands to get their attention. It startles them all enough to quit talking over each other and look back up at him. “Okay, I’m just going to get to the point. Why are you all avoiding Steve?”

Mike gives him a confused look and crosses his arms, his expression the epitome of teenage angst.

“We thought you hated Steve, dude. You would always leave the room whenever he was around with some shitty excuse so we just decided to do the same,” Mike answers. Dustin nods from his spot on the floor.

“Yeah, we all thought he did something or said something to you since every time we brought him up, you’d shut the conversation down somehow. It just… naturally progressed from not talking about him to not talking to him either,” Dustin explains.

“Steve stopped showing up to things, too. He used to help me practice but he’s not shown up in weeks,” Lucas adds.

“Mom’s gotten really worried about him. He’s not shown up to dinner in a while, either,” Dustin chimes in. He shrugs. “We just thought the feeling was mutual.”

Eddie clenches his eyes closed and throws his head back. Fuck, this is worse than he thought. He hears Robin shift beside him, and knows firsthand the look she’s giving them right now.

“Have any of you even considered asking Steve about this?” Robin asks accusatively. “Or even talking to him about anything other than rides or movie nights?”

Silence falls over the room, so thick and suffocating that Eddie briefly prefers the air of the Upside Down to this. He pulls his hair, scrunching down on the floor and balancing on the pads of his feet.

“This is all my fault,” he groans, twisting strands of hair frustratedly.

“It is,” Robin agrees and ignores the glare Eddie sends her way for that. “But we can still fix this.”

“Wait, what’s going on?” Mike asks.

“Why does Eddie look three seconds away from strangling himself with his hair?” Max hesitates, sounding the most cautious he’s ever heard her. Eddie groans and avoids eye contact with the group.

“The reason I’m avoiding Steve isn’t because I hate him. It’s uh… quite the opposite, actually,” he explains, nervously fidgeting with his rings and pulling a thick strand of hair to hide his face. He glances at Robin, who gives him an overly enthusiastic thumbs up, and he rolls his eyes.

Max and Erica give him equally smug smirks while Will looks at him with wide, understanding eyes. The rest of the group, however, look confused.

“Wait, then why are you avoiding him?” Dustin asks.

“Dude, that makes zero sense,” Mike counteracts. El just looks lost, almost like she’s trying to read his mind. Which… he really wouldn’t be surprised if she could at this point. Eddie sighs.

“That’s not the point,” Eddie redirects. “The point is that an issue with me and Steve shouldn’t affect you guys’ relationship with him.”

“Yeah,” Robin agrees, and he deftly ignores the pointed look she sends his way. “Steve has been there for all of you for years.

“Dustin, wasn’t it Steve who helped you catch D’art when he escaped from your cellar? He bought pounds of meat for you to lure a demodog away with, then fought a pack of them by himself to keep you safe. Steve put himself in the line of fire again against said demodogs in the tunnels after he was beaten unconscious by Billy, then sacrificed himself to Russians just so you and Erica could make it out alive a year later.”

Dustin clamps his mouth shut from its gaping position—likely from him wanting to defend himself from the truth—and has the decency to look sheepish. Eddie turns his gaze to Lucas.

“Lucas, wasn’t it Steve who helped you train for basketball when you started to show an interest in it? He practiced with you every week, even after a long shift at work or when he felt like shit, just because you asked. Steve protected you against Billy because it was the right thing to do, and took a beating so you wouldn’t. Not many people can say they’d do that for someone else, especially not against anyone as vicious as Hargrove,” Eddie adds. Lucas drops his head in his hands, knee bouncing from his place on the couch.

“Max,” Robin begins. “Steve checked up on you every day after Billy died. He would bring you food or ice cream or a distraction, but he was always there. He would drive you to the arcade just to cheer you up, let you beat him at Dig Doug and Pinball just to see you smile. Steve was terrified to let you be the bait for Vecna, he… he kept telling me that he wished it was him instead. That he should be the sacrifice, not you.”

Robin wipes her eyes where they begin to tear up, and Eddie uses the pause to look at Mike. He still has his arms crossed, but the smartass look on his face has dwindled a little.

“Mike, I know you don’t like Steve because of him and Nancy, but you can’t hold onto that grudge forever. What happened between them had nothing to do with you, so there's no need to be mad at him for it,” Eddie states. Mike isn’t looking at him now, and something tells Eddie that the kid just needs a reality check. Hopefully, this will work. “Steve has been protecting you from the beginning, even when you were more than hostile to him. You’ve at least got to give him credit for that.”

Eddie looks around, sees the morose expressions on the kids’ faces.

“Steve has picked you all up countless times from Hellfire, waiting the entire session out in the parking lot while wasting away in his car. He was there rain or shine, snow or sleet, and he never missed a day. Not once,” he states.

Eddie first found Steve’s presence after Hellfire to be confusing, an anomaly. He didn’t know that the Steve the kids talked about was the same Steve he had a debilitating crush on in high school, not until he saw him waiting outside after the first session the kids attended, leaning against his maroon BMW like a Calvin Klein model. A ball of anxiety formed in his stomach at the sight, because one thing about Steve Harrington was that he’s unpredictable. Eddie just didn’t know if it was good or bad yet.

“You know, usually when people graduate they tend to stay away from high school, not willingly come back,” Eddie teased.

His words seemed to spark some life into Steve, as he jolted from his relaxed position against the hood to stand firmly beside his car. Steve ran a hand through his hair, and looked Eddie up and down.

“You’d probably know more about that if you managed to actually graduate, Munson,” Steve quipped, but it wasn’t mean. He had a smile on his face, and the air around him was friendly. Some of the anxiety churning in Eddie’s gut eased at the sight.

“Besides, who says I’m here willingly?” Steve asked rhetorically, as Dustin made his appearance by running up to him and immediately began talking his ears off about the new campaign. Steve turned his full attention on the boy, nodding along to certain comments even when Eddie knew for sure Steve didn’t know what the hell Henderson was talking about. The other kids soon crowded around the former jock, all talking so incredibly fast that Eddie was surprised the sound barrier survived their cracking voices.

Eddie watched as Steve glanced at him over the kids’ heads, giving him a loose smile and a shrug as if saying, ‘what can ya do?’

Soon, all the gremlins piled into Steve’s fancy car, still talking and gesturing wildly with their hands. Eddie had a passing thought that he should get Steve some earplugs or something to at least help drown out the noise. He immediately shook his head at the thought and jumped in his old, beat up van, driving home to an empty trailer and trying desperately to forget Steve Harrington existed.

“He always waits until the excitement starts to wear off before he takes you all home, letting you talk to each other for nearly an hour after each session despite the fact he never has a clue what you’re talking about. He always listens to you guys, no matter what,” Eddie supplies. “Did you guys know he has mixtapes for each of you?”

At the question, they all look at him with varying degrees of confusion and an all-too-late realization. Eddie huffs, while Robin mutters something under her breath that sounds a lot like, ‘of course they didn’t.’

“There’s one for each of you, filled with songs you like or mentioned liking at some point despite some of them not being his own taste. He listens to you, all of you, and it fucking hurts to know you don’t see that,” he exposes, and part of him regrets letting a bit of his anger out. Though, the kids need to know this is serious, that you can’t go through life assuming the worst in people, so if being angry is what it takes then so be it.

The kids have various emotions on their faces, ashamed and regretful being the two most prominent. Dustin clears his throat and looks up at Eddie, flicks his eyes to Robin, and returns them to his lap.

“I… I didn’t realize he did so much for us,” Dustin quietly admits, and a small part of Eddie cheers at finally teaching the kid a thing or two about humility.

“We’ve been taking advantage of him for… for so long,” Lucas breathes out. Max nods morosely beside him, and Will raises a shaky hand to cover his mouth.

Mike rolls his eyes, still petulantly crossing his arms. “Why should we even care about him? All he’s probably doing is wallowing in his fancy house or something.”

He says it with a layer of snark so thick, all the kids turn to him with varying levels of bitchy glares. Eddie, however, can tell his attitude is a mask, a way for him to hide how he’s truly feeling to prevent from being too vulnerable. From being too open. Eddie knows a lot about that.

It started when Eddie was four and he scraped his knee on the harsh gravel outside his parents’ run-down home in Kentucky. Tears rolled down his chubby cheeks as he ran inside to tell his mom, who he knew would take care of him. She told him to play outside, and not come in until she told him so, but his knee really hurt and he was scared they would have to cut it off if it bled too much. At least, that’s what Charlie—a kid who lived two streets over—said they would do.

When he stepped over the threshold, something felt off. The house was quiet, more so than normal, and it set him on edge. The TV was filled with static that grated on his little ears, and he covered them with his hands as he made his way over to turn it off. He picked up the antenna off the floor, wondering how it got knocked off the top of the TV in the first place. He looked around the living room, finding it in a similar state of disarray. He followed the trail of broken things before him; the overturned coffee table, a spilled ashtray, a stray pillow, and the chair his dad always sat on, pushed far out of its normal place. He questioned who could have messed up his house like this, leaving a big mess behind.

He found his answer when he ventured into the kitchen, just a few short steps from the living room, and found his mother laying on the floor. She was on her stomach, arms splayed out as if she tried to catch her fall and head turned to look at the doorway where little Eddie stood. Her eyes were closed but she was still breathing, the floral pattern of her dress moving with each breath. Shards of ceramic were spread out around her, littered with droplets of dark blood that spilled from a cut on her forehead. It dripped down the side of her face, along the curve of her cheek and onto the floor where it formed a small puddle. Her skin was pale in the artificial light of the house, the soft yellows doing nothing to soften the tones of her ashen face.

“Mama!” He ran up to her, falling to his knees beside her still body. He shook her, trying to get her eyes to open, but all it rewarded him was a pained grunt. His eyes welled with tears again, this time for his Mama, but nothing he was doing was working.

A shadow fell over the floor and he looked up to find his father blocking the light from the gold-colored light fixture above the kitchen table. His face was stern and dirty looking, his stubble well past the point of a five o’clock shadow and leaning more towards a sleazy strip club owner. There was a smear of blood on his face from his hand, which he noticed was bruised around the knuckles. However, the sight of what was in his other hand made him freeze, entire body going stock still.

In his father’s left hand were the remnants of the broken plate on the floor, the jagged edges cutting into his skin where he gripped it tightly. Matching blood littered the edge, and a splatter of the dark liquid traveled up his hairy arm and disappeared into his rolled up flannel sleeve.

He looked up at the figure before him, and the tears spilled over against his will.

“What happened to Mama?” He asked. “Why won’t she wake up?”

“‘Cause she’s sorry, son,” his dad answered, throwing down the ceramic and causing it to shatter against the floor. Eddie flinched, and his father caught the motion. He hadn’t been able to quell it, hadn’t learned how to hide his fear yet. The man scowled at him, lip curling as he grabbed Eddie’s arm and hauled him off the floor in one solid motion.

“She’s weak, Edward,” he began. This close, Eddie could see the redness of his eyes, and the deep purple bags that hang underneath. “Just like all women. Do you wanna be weak, boy?”

Eddie shook his head, and his father gripped his arm tighter. “Answer me!”

“N-No sir,” Eddie muttered, voice small and weak in the face of his father.

“Then stop that fucking crying, don’t be a sissy. I ain’t raising a fucking faggot, Edward.”

With that, his dad dropped his arm and stumbled into his bedroom down the hall. As soon as his figure was gone, Eddie turned back to his mom, crouching next to her. Sometime when his dad was talking, her eyes had opened and her breathing grew stronger. Eddie felt like it was nothing short of a small miracle.

“Mama, are you okay?”

“‘M okay, baby,” she replied, pushing herself off the floor with a grunt. She sat up with Eddie’s help, and frowned when she saw the reddened mark on his arm. “I shouldn’t have let him do that to you.”

“You were hurt, Mama. ‘S not your fault,” Eddie reasoned, pulling his arm out of her grasp to wipe at some of the blood on her face. “You’re bleeding, too.”

“Oh,” she began, reaching up to touch the wound as if she hadn’t realized it was there. “It’s nothing, Eddie, just a little scratch. Mama will be okay, promise.”

She didn’t look okay, this close, with her sunken-in face and slowly forming black eye Eddie hadn’t been able to see before. But his Mama was always right. Always.

“Pinky promise?” Eddie asked, holding out his little pinky. His Mama smiled, and raised a shaky hand to lace her pinky with his.

“Pinky promise.”

A year later, he was riding in the car with his Mama, backpack at his feet. She was dressed nicer than he ever remembered her being; a baby blue, short-sleeved dress hugged her slender frame, paired with white heels, white bug-eyed sunglasses, and a sheer white scarf she had tied around her hair. Her suitcase was in the trunk, but his father was nowhere to be found.

“Mama?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Where’s Dad?” He asked. His Mama cleared her throat before she answered, voice shaky.

“He’s not coming with us, Eddie,” she said. “We’re going somewhere far away from him. Somewhere new.”

“Where?”

“Have a look for yourself, honey,” she said, pointing to the window. Eddie crawled up on his knees to look out, seeing a sign welcoming them to a place called Hawkins. He sat back down in his seat, looking back at his mother.

“What’s here?” He asked. His mother smiled.

“Your Uncle Wayne. He’s my brother,” she supplied. “We’re just going to pay him a little visit, okay?”

A few short minutes later, they were parked in front of a small trailer, a gruff looking man waiting for them on the newly-built porch. They got out of the car and Eddie grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his shoulders before his Mama led him up the steps.

“Eddie, this is Uncle Wayne,” his Mama informed. He looked up at her and she nudged his arm, urging him to say something.

“H-Hello, sir,” Eddie greeted, sticking out his small hand for the man to shake. Wayne huffed a laugh and crouched down, causing Eddie to take a step back on instinct, before he took his hand and shook it.

“Nice to meet ya, Eddie,” Wayne began. He let go of his hand but stayed crouched. “You can call me Wayne, or Uncle Wayne, or Uncle, or—hell, Todd for all I care. Just none of that ‘sir’ business, you got me?”

Eddie smiled and nodded. “Sorry, si—uh, Uncle Wayne.”

“That’s better, boy,” Wayne said, smiling as he clapped his shoulder softly. Wayne had kind eyes, blue and soft around the edges. They weren’t mean like his fathers. Instead, they looked exactly like his Mama’s—save for a few extra wrinkles around the edges. “Why don’t you go on inside while your Mama and I talk?”

Eddie did as he was told, walking in the trailer and taking in his surroundings. It was small, smaller than his house, but cozy. A couple mugs were hung up on the wall, paired with three trucker hats and a framed picture he was too far away to see. An old, floral patterned couch sat on the long wall of the living room, a coffee table in front littered with an opened can of Coke and a half-eaten bag of chips. The windows were open to let light in, making the space feel much bigger than it actually was.

He stepped into the kitchen, just a pace away from the living room, and took in the red-toned wooden cabinets and cream countertops stained with coffee rings yet to be wiped away. There was a hallway to his left where he found a single bedroom and a bathroom. The bathroom was small, just big enough for a stand-up shower, toilet, and sink. A single toothbrush sat in the cup on the side of the sink along with a bar of soap and an almost empty tube of toothpaste. On the other side of the sink though, Eddie noticed an unopened toothbrush. It was blue and had sparkles throughout its plastic. At the bottom, there was a small dog sticker and it made him smile a little.

His attention soon wandered to the bedroom, where he found a little twin-sized bed and tons of boxes. The bed was bare, save for a folded up quilt near the bottom with a pillow on top. The boxes were filled with various things; clothes, books, a cassette player, shoes, and tons of other small trinkets. He sat on the ground, pulling a box closer to look through it. There were thin books near the top labeled ‘Hawkins High’, and he flipped through it to find pictures upon pictures of people. He read the names, sounding them out to see if he could get them right. Some of them were weird, though, and he quickly put the book down to look at something else.

There was a box of cassette tapes to his left and Eddie scooted over to look through it. There were tons of names he didn’t recognize as he rifled through the plastic cases, though one stood out to him.

He picked up the Fleetwood Mac tape along with the cassette player from a box near the closet, plugging it into the wall and putting the tape in. He eyed the front door, seeing it still firmly closed. Just then, the tape clicked, causing him to jump, and he pressed play.

The familiar voice filled his ears, and he smiled. He and his Mama used to listen to Fleetwood Mac back home in the kitchen while they made supper, singing along with the tape or the radio to fill the house with music. The sound of it brought a smile to his face, and he closed his eyes as he listened to the words.

Engrossed in the music, he barely registered that the front door had both opened and closed until a soft hand was laid on his shoulder.

“Eddie, baby, I have to go,” his Mama said, and he jumped to his feet. He kinda felt bad about going through Uncle Wayne’s things without him being there, but if they were leaving then he didn’t think he would get too mad.

“Where are we going now, Mama?” Eddie wondered. His mother’s face turned pinched, and she lifted her glasses to look at him directly. She wore make-up, much more than she usually did, and as she crouched down Eddie could see it was barely disguising a bruise along the top of her right cheekbone.

“Eddie, only I’m leaving,” his Mama corrected. “You’re staying here with Wayne.”

At that, his whole world fell apart.

His mother, his Mama, was leaving him. It didn’t seem fair that he couldn’t go with her, that he couldn’t stay with his Mama like he wanted to. Wayne seemed nice from their brief interaction, but he didn’t know him. Not like he knew his Mama.

His stomach sank to his feet, and it felt as if someone poured ice-cold water over him. His eyes grew wide as tears welled, spilling over his cheeks.

“Why, Mama?” Eddie sobbed, wiping at his face because he wasn’t supposed to cry. “Why can’t I go with you?”

“You just can’t, Eddie, I’m sorry,” she stated. It felt hollow, her explanation. Like she was hiding something.

“But why?”

“Because you just can’t, Eddie!” She snapped, and Eddie’s breath caught. She sounded mad, but Eddie had never heard her get mad, not at him at least. He didn’t know what he did, only that she wouldn’t let him go with her.

She took a breath and cupped his cheek. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“But- But you can’t leave me!” Eddie wailed. “Mama, please!”

She opened her arms and he fell into them, clinging hard enough to deem separating impossible. She hugged him back just as tight, and Eddie saw evidence of tear tracks streaking through her caked-on foundation.

“I know, baby, I don’t want to leave you either,” his Mama soothed. “But Wayne is going to take care of you, okay?”

Eddie looked over her shoulder to see Wayne leaning against one of the kitchen countertops, smiling sadly at him. Eddie screwed his eyes shut and buried his face in his mothers neck.

“You’re gonna come back, right?” Eddie mumbled before he moved to look at her. “Pinky promise you’re gonna come back for me.”

His Mama cried and wiped at her cheeks, smearing the make-up and making the bruises appear fresh on her pale skin. She held out a pinky, and Eddie laced his with hers.

“I promise, Eddie,” she said, leaning forward to kiss his forehead before getting to her feet. Her and Wayne shared a hug on her way out, and Eddie caught Wayne wiping his eyes too. He and his uncle stood on the porch as his mom drove away, waving until her taillights disappeared around the curve of the road.

That was the last time he saw his mother.

Unfortunately, it was not the last he saw his father.

He stayed with Wayne for two months until his father found him. They had grown accustomed to each other in that time, Eddie having warmed up to another parental figure and Wayne having gotten the basics down for caring for another being. Wayne insisted he start school in the fall, and he was two weeks in when all hell broke loose.

His father rolled up to the trailer in a fancy-looking sports car Eddie knew his dad didn’t have the money for. He stumbled out on the gravel, banging on the door until Wayne pulled it open.

“The hell are you doin’ here?” Wayne asked, standing firm in the doorway.

“I’m here to get my son,” his father demanded. He pushed past him and stormed the place until he found Eddie in the only bedroom—Wayne having set up a cot in the living room.

Eddie hadn’t expected to see his father again, mostly because he didn’t think the man really cared for him. That was prominent when he snatched Eddie off the bed and hauled him out of his room.

“Dad?” Eddie questioned. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m taking you away from here,” his father responded, glaring at Wayne who stood blocking the doorway.

“You’re not takin’ him anywhere, Al,” Wayne countered. He crossed his arms, looking far more intimidating than Eddie ever imagined. “He’s happy here.”

“He’ll be even more happy with me,” his dad insisted. “With his real family.”

“Son of a bitch, Al, I am his real family!” Wayne yelled. “You ain’t got the means for takin’ care of that boy, and you know it.”

His father stood toe to toe with his uncle, glaring at him. He whispered something Eddie was too far away to hear, but it made Wayne deflate completely.

Eddie didn’t want to leave. He found that these past two months with Wayne were filled with more happy memories than he ever remembered having back home. Wayne was nice, a little rough around the edges but he was a big softy inside. He cared about people, that much was evident in the way he was constantly helping people out around the park. He was a good person, so leaving him felt like his Mama all over again.

“Come on, son,” his father demanded, grabbing his arm and dragging him out of the trailer. Eddie looked back at Wayne, eyes stinging. He waved, and Wayne waved back. He watched the trailer from the backseat until he couldn’t tell which one was theirs, only facing the front when his dad snapped at him.

They rode for hours, far past the Indiana state line, until they ended up in a strange city filled with tall buildings and blinding lights that made Eddie’s eyes sting. They went through the city, stopping on the outskirts in a run-down neighborhood even more decrepit than his old house in Kentucky.

He spent two years with his dad in a city he came to know at St. Louis, but it never felt like home. Not like the trailer with Wayne, or anywhere his mother was. He learned how to hotwire cars and how to drive like a bat out of hell whenever his dad told him to. He learned that he was too much to take care of; his father constantly complained about feeding him, keeping him clothed, taking care of him like a father should. He learned that showing emotions would only get you hurt, that he had to hide them to survive. He learned what all the different white powders did to someone, how they would affect your mind and your body. How they made his father violent, or remorseful, or depressed, but never happy.

His father was on a bad trip when a rush of red and blue lights invaded their windows, sirens blaring and making Eddie’s ears ring. Their front door was kicked open, the old wood splintering easily under the force of a steel-toed boot. Police flooded the house, and Eddie was grabbed and dragged out before he had time to comprehend everything that was happening.

He was sitting in the back of a cop car with the door open, body completely still as police went in and out of their house. He couldn’t let them know he was scared out of his mind, that he was afraid of what they would do to him. He knew the best way to get through it was to show nothing at all. To be indifferent. Emotionless. It was the only thing his father taught him that he deemed useful.

His father was dragged out of the house by two policemen, kicking and screaming at them but Eddie couldn’t hear what he was saying, ears having gone deaf to anything other than the ringing in his head. Next thing he knew, his father had broken free and punched one of the officers, causing several to tackle him to the ground and handcuff him before practically throwing him into a car and hauling him away. All Eddie could do was watch, knowing there was nothing he could do to help him.

“You got somewhere to go, kid?” One of the cops that took him out of the house asked, leaning against the open door and blocking the flashing lights. Eddie nodded, and the cop took him back to the station where he called Wayne.

“Eddie, son, where are you? Are you okay? If that bastard hurt you, I swear to god—“

“Wayne,” Eddie began, his voice rough from not using it. “Can you come get me?”

A pause. “Sure, kid, where are you?”

“St. Louis,” Eddie supplied. There was cursing on the other end, muffled so Eddie couldn’t tell what was said but he knew Wayne well enough. Even after only two months, the man had become more like a father to him than his own dad ever was.

“I’m coming right now to get ya, just hold on tight, okay? I’ll be there ‘fore the morning.”

True to his word, Wayne showed up right before dawn in his beat up truck. He stormed the station like a madman, looking for him. He was rumpled, like he threw on just enough clothes to be decent before booking it all the way here. If he knew Wayne, that’s probably exactly what he did.

“Eddie? Eds, where are ya?”

“Sir,” the lady at the front desk interrupted. “I’m going to have to ask you to lower your voice—“

“Wayne!” Eddie perked up from the desk chair he was sitting at in the station, running around desks before jumping straight in his uncle's arms. Wayne held onto him just as tight, and he could’ve sworn he heard a sniffle or two come from the man.

“I was so worried, Eds,” Wayne whispered. “I tried lookin’ for ya, I swear I did, just—If I’d known he’d taken ya to another state I wouldn’t’ve stopped ‘til I searched the whole damn country.”

“I know, Wayne,” Eddie muttered. “I missed you too.”

As much as Eddie tried, he couldn’t put up that mask of indifference around his uncle. He could try, sure, but it never worked longer than five seconds before he saw right through it and it crumbled at Eddie’s feet.

“Let’s get you home, son,” Wayne insisted and before he knew it, Eddie was asleep in the passenger seat of the truck as they took the highway home.

Since then, Eddie and Wayne had become inseparable. There were no secrets between them, no masks. They weren’t needed, not when Wayne was more than good to him. They weren’t wanted, either, since Wayne made sure to remind him that showing emotions wasn’t a bad thing. That it was good, healthy.

It wasn’t until much later in middle school when he learned that having a mask was necessary sometimes. Especially when people started calling him a freak and a weirdo because he wasn’t identical to everyone else. Because he lived in a trailer with someone that wasn’t his biological parent and wore hand-me-down clothes that were baggy on him since his growth spurt hadn’t hit yet. He donned the air of indifference he had left behind long ago, letting the names and rumors bounce off his skin like water off an umbrella.

That need intensified when high school hit and the rumor mill grew exponentially. Suddenly, he was bombarded with accusations of Satanism, prison time, drug dealing—though that one was true—pet raccoons, and, at one point, an army of undead babies he sucked the life out of that he could command at will. Really, the shit people came up with was astounding, and Eddie learned to shove it all away. None of it was true—save for a couple things he would never, in a million years, tell another soul at Hawkins High—so he made sure to act like it was true. Let people believe what they want to believe. In the meantime, Eddie used it to his advantage to prevent anyone from getting too close. From looking past the barrier he put up between himself and everyone else.

So yeah, Eddie knows a little bit about where Mike’s coming from.

“Actually…” Robin starts. “Steve’s not doing so great—“

“What?!” Dustin squawks out, cutting Robin off and all but jumping up from his seated position. “Why the hell did you not start this whole damn thing with that?!”

“We were getting there, Henderson!” Eddie clarifies. “Now sit your ass down.”

Dustin—for once—does as he’s told. Eddie looks to Robin and gives her a nod, letting her have the floor.

“Steve’s got it in his head that he’s the only one allowed to sacrifice himself for us, that he’s only needed or wanted when he can put himself in the line of fire. So, like the caring dumbass he is, he’s been wandering around Hawkins at night because he’s worried that something will happen.”

“But I closed all of the gates,” El starts, head cocked and eyebrows scrunched like a confused puppy. “We are in no more danger.”

“I think part of him knows that, Supergirl,” Eddie explains. “But he needs to know for certain, to make sure you guys are absolutely safe.”

She nods, and sadness finds its way to her eyes. Eddie feels a pang of sympathy for her, knowing that learning how to live all over again is never easy.

“He’s not been sleeping much,” Robin continues. “It’s like he’s barely there anymore. Like he’s just… a shell.

“He thinks you all hate him. He thinks he deserves this for all the shit he did in the past, even though we all know he’s more than made up for it by becoming a decent fucking human being,” she spits out. There’s anger in her eyes now as she glares at a stain on the carpet, unwilling to look at the kids but needing to get her point across. “He broke down in my arms because this is the fifth fucking time the people he’s loved has left him and I think… I think this time broke him.”

She raises her head and looks over the kids, tears balanced on her lower eyelashes and threatening to spill over.

“You’re his family, the family he got to choose, and you still… you left. Just like everyone else has.”

The room fills with silence as the words sink in.

“How… How do we fix it?” Will asks, his quiet voice now loud. Eddie sighs and rakes a hand through his hair—a motion that keeps reminding him of Steve—before shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I know part of it is my fault, I admit that. I shouldn’t have just stopped talking to him all of the sudden, I should’ve… well, there’s a lot of things I should have done but I didn’t, so I plan on fixing that,” Eddie admits. He looks around the room, makes as much eye contact as he can to drive his point home. “You should too. A simple ‘I’m sorry’ isn’t going to cut it, not this time. Not for this.”

The kids all nod, and Eddie gestures to the door to dismiss them. They all look like kicked puppies with slouching posture and ducked heads, walking out of the trailer with their tails between their legs. Dustin and Mike are the first to hop on their bikes, ready to either apologize and get it over with or get as far away from his and Robin’s disappointed glares as possible. Before they can push off, Eddie calls out to them.

“Hey! Give it a couple days,” Eddie orders. “Steve… He’s going to need some time. Go to him when he’s ready, okay?”

He’s met with various nods and ‘will do’s as some of them take off, their knobbly knees hitting the handlebars of their too-small bikes. Then, he notices a particular brunette has yet to leave, her bike with little white training wheels still standing in the grass. Her big brown eyes lock with his and, even though there's a porch between them, he can feel the seriousness in her gaze.

“I miss him. He was always very nice to me,” El confesses. “He always gave me piggyback rides.”

Her face falls a little. “I did not know we were being mean to him.”

Eddie finds himself softening a little at her words.

“I know, Supergirl,” he winks at her. “That’s why you’re my favorite.”

She giggles in response and hops on her bike, meeting up with Max who stopped to wait for her a few yards away.

Eddie closes the door, falling against it with a thud. He groans, the sound bouncing off the thin door and out in the empty trailer. He turns to go to his room, preferably to wallow, before nearly jumping clean out of his skin.

Well, he thought the trailer was empty, except there now stands one Robin Buckley who has resumed her unimpressed, hands-on-her-hips, "you're a fucking dumbass" position from earlier.

"Jesus H. Christ!" He exclaims. A hand comes up to grab at his heart which is actively trying to beat out of his chest as his lungs grapple for air. "Birdie, I forgot you were there."

"Yeah," she deadpans. "Clearly."

Eddie straightens up, and quirks an eyebrow at her rather over dramatically. Robin rolls her eyes.

"Well?"

"It's a deep subject," Eddie sarcastically responds. Robin, unfortunately, doesn't find that funny. "'Well' what?"

"Go apologize!" She yells.

“Okay, okay, geez!”

Eddie pats himself down, looking for the keys to his van before Robin clears her throat. He looks over at her to see an unamused quirk of her eyebrow before she points to the hook by the door where his keys hang.

“Thanks, Buck!” he exclaims, pressing his hands together in prayer to the saint she is. Grabbing them, he throws the door open and clears the steps in one jump, stumbling a bit on the landing but really, he’s quite proud of this rare athletic appearance.

Jumping in his van, he slams a random tape in the deck, grinning a little at the song that plays first. Despite his obvious avoidance of the second track, the Master of Puppets album still holds a very special place in his heart. So it's really not a surprise that the song that just so happens to play first reminds him of the very man he’s going to see, sacrificial tendencies and all.

He slams on the gas, tires squealing as he peels out of Forest Hills trailer park faster than he ever has before.

He’s not running away this time; not running from a small cheerleader’s body trapped on his ceiling, not running from angry town hicks with their fiery pitchforks, and not running from a creepy interdimensional demon who enjoys sucking the life out of depressed teenagers.

No, this time, he’s running to something. Running to Steve.

He just hopes Steve will let him.

———

Permanent tag list: @tea-beloved @estrellami-1 @mericatty @bookworm0690

Fic tag list: @madcapromantic @hannahhook7744 @h3rmitsunited @willim-billiam-byerson @stuftzombie @acowardinmordor @zerokrox-blog @my-chemical-sexuality-crisis @grimmfitzz @ladygrimheart @bestwifehaver @blanketlicker @fishinforfiish @vi-an-te @orionchildofhades @7shrewsinatrenchcoat @whackyrach @stevie-crow @missmagillicuddy @1cookieburn1 @mightbeasleep @jettestar @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @imyelenasexual @yikes-a-bee @that-agender-from-pluto @sufjuringstevens @gregre369 @sofadofax @lolawonsstuff @rajumat @ksierra674 @i-threw-my-name-out-the-window @justforthedead89 @vanillatwist @actually-races-erster @background-noise-headache @warlordless @largechaos @noctxrn-e @hope-can-be-your-sword @foundintheshallows @burningoffaroad @obliosworld @lemon-astra @midnightskeeper @venteraltus @lovelyscot @juleswashere3 @child-of-cthulhu

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#stranger things #steddie #pre steddie #disposable heroes #disposable heroes mcir #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things drabble #stranger things fic #robin buckley #robin gets to punch eddie like she wanted to #eddie munson backstory #i gave him a life oops #domestic violence #child abuse #homophobia #stay safe yall

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ladykailitha · 1 year

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Can Anybody See Me? Part 8

Now we’re getting to the reason behind the title.

On the tagging, I HAVE REACHED MY HARD AND FAST LIMIT OF 50. I love the response this story has gotten. I do. I love you all. I love every reply, like, and reblog. It brings me so much joy, you don’t even know. But tagging is hard for my ADHD brain. I have gone up from 20 to 30 and finally 50 as my system improved but I think if I do any more than that I’ll go insane. So any future tagging requests will be ignored. Sorry.

The best way to keep update on these stories is follow me and set me on notifications. I rarely do a lot of reblogging these days (too busy churning out stories like whoa), so more often then not a post will be a story. I try to post at least once a day (some times twice if I’m trying to rush through the posting a bit like I did to make sure the Valentine fic got out in time without making people wait on Vamp!Eddie), just never at set time.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

When Eddie heard how Gethin had done it, he was starting wonder who the smart twin was, because it was brilliant.

The chemicals for developing film were kept in Miss Chen’s room and he took some quick pictures of Steve’s piece before promptly spilling some of the chemicals that the teacher had in her class room all over it.

It ATE the paper. Gethin had tried to mop it up before it got too bad. But alas, it was too late.

“Mr Hughes!” Miss Chen protested. “Please be more careful next time!”

Gethin apologize profusely. He begged her to give the poor student whose piece he had just destroyed an extra week to finish the project, because he had been soooo careless.

She agreed.

He ran out of her class with the chemicals he needed to develop the film in his camera.

Pictures he slipped into Eddie’s locker during lunch.

After school Eddie waited until the halls were empty before he opened his locker. He knelt down to pick them up and blinked. Steve was really good. The composition was sound and colors were great.

The page wasn’t even that scary. It was just of this boy walking up to a house in the dead of night. In one of the panels you could almost make out something watching the boy, but it was the vague sense of unease made it so you could tell it was going be a horror comic. It was good. And suddenly Eddie was pissed at Miss Chen for calling Steve out for this.

Especially since Eddie’s own comic was about slaying a dragon.

He shoved the pictures back into his backpack and slammed the locker shut.

“Well what have we got here?” a voice said from behind him.

Shit.

Eddie turned around slowly. There was Tommy H, Billy, and Kyle, standing there with their arms crossed.

“Hey, boys,” he said with a grin. “You looking to buy? I’ve got about four kilos.”

Tommy and Kyle looked at each other, nervously. They didn’t want to antagonize their drug dealer.

Billy ran his tongue over his teeth thoughtfully. “I just wanted to talk. I’ve been seeing Harrington hanging around you freaks lately and wanted to know why?”

Eddie folded his arms. “I get you’re new here, Hargrove, but your friends should have told you: I’m the king of picking up lost sheep. I like bringing people into my fold that the rest of this school has deemed outcasts. Steve Harrington has become one of those. And how could I resist such a tempting treat as the former king of Hawkins High?”

“You leave him the fuck alone, you hear me?” Billy growled.

“Or what?” Eddie asked. “You’ll do me like you did him? And then where will you get your weed? Because if you do I will make sure that I don’t sell to you or any of your little friends.” He wagged his finger as he indicated to Tommy and Kyle. “I’ll fucking cut off the entire basketball team. Don’t think I won’t. How long do you think you’ll be king then, Hargrove? When suddenly everyone’s supply dries up because you fucked with me?”

Kyle tugged on Billy’s arm. “Come on, man. Whatever your beef with Harrington is, it’s not worth this.”

Tommy just stood there looking Eddie in the eye.

“So what’s it going to be, Hagen?” Eddie asked. “You going to side with King Jackass here and alienate the whole fucking basketball team because you’ve got a hard on for Harrington? Or are you going to the smart thing and walk away?”

Tommy grabbed Billy’s other arm. “Let’s go.”

Billy wrenched his arms from both of them and stalked off.

“Run along, Tommy,” Eddie said making a shooing motion with his hands. “Go suck Hargrove’s dick.”

Tommy made to swing at Eddie, but Kyle stopped him. “Don’t do it, dude. He’s trying to get a rise out of you.”

Eddie grinned. He blew a kiss at Tommy and then walked off, a nervous energy humming in his veins.

He walked out to his van and found Steve waiting for him. Eddie smirked.

“You waiting for me, big boy?” he asked walking up to the other boy.

“I wanted to thank you for what you did about my art project,” Steve explained. “And then I saw Billy and Tommy and I got worried.”

Eddie patted his cheek. “You’re sweet, but I told you, I’m immune.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Plus, pretty boy,” Eddie said. “You won’t have to worry about that lot anymore. They came after me and I set them straight. If they want to keep buying weed, either they’ve got find someone new or leave you the hell alone.”

Steve sighed in relief. “So everything’s cool?”

“Cool as can be,” Eddie agreed. He opened the door and hopped into the van. “And I didn’t do anything to your project, Stevie.”

He saluted Steve and drove off, leaving behind a very confused, but very happy Steve Harrington.

Steve kept his eye on Tommy and Billy but by the end of the week there was no doubt that whatever Eddie had said them, made them back off.

“Hey, Steve,” Gareth said, nonchalant. “Did you know that there chemicals used in the art department for all sorts art related shit that can dissolve paper?”

Steve cocked an eyebrow at him. “You don’t say.”

“Didn’t you now,” Brian said with a grin, “Gareth’s brother is a big photography nerd.”

“Oh, he must know Jonathan Byers, then,” Steve said, deliberately not taking their bait.

Gareth cocked his head to the side and hummed. “Maybe not. Different grades. But still could do, I suppose.”

Steve grinned. “Miss Chen did say it was a photography student that ruined my comic, maybe I should go thank Jonathan.” He winked at them and they burst out laughing.

Which was actually what Steve thought had happened when Eddie denied all knowledge of what happened. That Jonathan had recognized the scene of Steve on his way to Jonathan’s house and messed it up, worried Steve might get in trouble with the government.

But Gethin doing it made Steve sigh in relief. He already owe his life to Jonathan, owing him for the art project, too? That was too much for even Steve’s wounded pride.

Steve had already fobbed Nancy off earlier in the week because Jonathan had snitched.

She was practically screaming about being so careless. As if Steve would make the characters look like them. He had asked her if she had seen it herself and when she admitted she hadn’t, Steve told her to back off. Which lo and behold, she actually did.

“It’s bullshit Miss Chen even said anything,” Eddie growled. “It’s of this boy walking up to a house at night. It could’ve been of a boy going to pick up a girl on a date, but because Steve used muted tones and creepy vibes, she decided it was sad or some shit and threatened to call Steve’s parents.”

The other three boys looked at each other. “That is bullshit,” they all agreed.

Steve shrugged. “I changed to be about a lost little girl who connects with a social recluse and they become a family. If she gives me shit about that one, I’ll kindly let Chief Hopper know that Miss Chen thinks him and his adopted daughter’s story is toooo depressing for school.”

“I like the way you think,” Jeff said with a cackle.

Steve grinned. Silence descended as the boys ate their lunch. As they were packing up, he casually dropped a bomb on them.

“Miss Lucy wants me to try out for the school musical...”

“No way, dude!” Eddie said. Miss Lucy was the drama teacher. Her last name was one of those that looked easy on paper but really wasn’t. So she had all her students call her by her first name.

“I thought you were new to the whole drama thing,” Brian said.

“I am but she seems to think I’m good enough to tryout,” Steve said with a shrug.

“Are you going to do it?” Eddie asked in all seriousness.

Steve bit his lip. “I want to but I don’t want people to get mad at me if I do a get a part.”

Gareth’s brow furrowed. “Why would they be mad at you?”

Steve shrugged again. “That a newbie like me is taking away a roll from one of the more seasoned kids?”

“If that’s the case,” Jeff said, “then fuck them. You didn’t know you had a talent for it.”

Steve smiled warmly at them. “Thanks, guys.”

Eddie clapped him on the back. “You go get ‘em, tiger!”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, okay.”

He felt the warmth from where Eddie touched his back all day long. And he carried that feeling all the way through his audition.

“You are such chicken shit,” Eddie told Steve. The results were back for call backs and he was too afraid to look.

“I know, I know,” Steve murmured. “But I would rather walk through an entire pack of demodogs then look at that stupid piece of paper.”

“What the fuck is a demodog?”

Steve blinked. “Something the kids made up for their D&D campaign.” Which was true. Mostly.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie said, licking his lips. “You owe big time for this.”

“I’ll buy you dinner,” Steve promised.

“And it better be somewhere nice!” Eddie called back over his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve grumbled.

Within seconds Eddie came flouncing back. “Bad news, Stevie...”

“I didn’t get called back?” Steve asked.

Eddie cackled. “You got called back for Charles Thomson. You’re going up against Kyle Carver.”

“Fuck.”

“Language, Mr Harrington,” Mr Hall, one of the swim coaches murmured as he walked by.

“Sorry, coach,” Steve said automatically. He turned back to Eddie. “He’s going to get it, isn’t he?”

“Kyle?” Eddie asked. Steve nodded. “Probably. Though it would be a serious miscarriage of justice if he does.”

Steve grinned. “Good thing you’re a fan of those. Maybe you start a letter campaign against bias casting in school plays.”

Eddie looked around to make sure there weren’t any teachers. “Fuck off, Harrington.”

Steve kissed his nose and ran off giggling. “See you later, Munson.”

Eddie stood in the hall being jostled by other students as he thoughtfully rubbed his nose.

Steve watched Kyle audition from the audience and was so sure Kyle had it in the bag. Until he opened his mouth to sing and what came out of his mouth was horribly off key.

“Mr Carver, are you all right?” Miss Lucy asked.

Kyle nodded and tried again. This time it was better, but no where near it was when he auditioned the first time.

“I must be coming down with a cold,” Kyle excused.

Miss Lucy frowned. “Your turn, Mr Harrington.”

Steve took a deep breath and let it out slow, like Eddie had taught him. He stepped up to the stage and turned around.

“You know, sometimes I think the general is speaking to me,” Steve recited his lines, his voice breaking on the last word. And then he used the scene to launch into the singing part of his audition.

Miss Lucy was humming and nodding as Steve finished up the song.

“Thank you, Mr Harrington,” Miss Lucy said. “Results will be posted on the drama room door tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Miss Lucy,” Steve said.

As he passed Kyle the boy hissed, “Suck up.”

Steve just shrugged. “Or maybe it’s just polite to thank someone for their time.”

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

Tag list: @shrimply-a-menace @strangersteddierthings @throwbackthrowaway @novelnovella @cursedfoxteeth @babyblender @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steve-the-hairrington @winterbuckwild @spectrum-spectre @matchingbatbites @garden-of-gay @anaibis @thing-a-ling @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @artiststarme @sundead @nelotegreitic @gregre369 @butterflysandpeppermint @thedragonsaunt @kodaik97 @messrs-weasley @scarletzgo @deadlydodos @renaissan-vvitch @evix-syne666 @emly03 @justforthedead89 @ashwinmeird @huniibee @phantypurple @stevesbipanic @shucks-yuckyuck @awkwardgravity1 @bookbinderbitch @reportinglivefromsoda @chasinggeese @be-the-spark-bitch @jinxjinn @kohlraedirectioner @cr0w-culture @xjessicafaithx @whimsicalwitchm @jaywhohasthegay @dangdirtydemons @lovelyscot @howincrediblysapphicofyou @the-redthread

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #canon divergence #the boy with the bat #ladykailtiha writes

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airborneice · 4 months

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i'm late to this year’s art review thingy bc I had a reeeally busy december and then left my laptop behind when I came home so couldn’t finish any drawings or get my files 🥲 anyway I’ve been reunited with it now so!!!

it’s been a weird but mostly good year!! i started my first proper job in the anim industry and moved house twice. there’s tons of stuff i wanted to make this year but couldn’t find time for bc of the amount of. everything. going on all the time. it was actually a bit hard finding art to fill the spaces this year, which is why i had to stretch my little amount of sketchbook week stuff over two months. it’s been a little bit frustrating - i feel like i’ve learned so much from my job but i haven’t had much time to do anything to show it, but i guess that’s the trade-off. it’s cool being a small part of someone else’s idea but that means i get less time & energy for my own. i want to try and strike a better balance between the two this year and i really hope that soon i’ll be able to share the thing i’m working on i’m literally gonna die of excitement 😭

it’s been really cool getting to make more content of my ocs and see ppl enjoy it, you guys and the nice comments you leave are everything to me. i hope this new year is kind to everyone and thanks for sticking around <3

some of these i haven't posted so to give due credit -

*feb was a gift for @ewwgene-fitzherbert of our blorbos <3

*september is fanart of @the-hilda-librarians-wife’s amazing OC meiri. there will be more

#looking at this it was a VERY oc centric year which is cool #the guys in august are also my ocs just not hilda for a change..i wanted to do a series of drawings to set them up and post em all together #and then the season 3 news came in with a steel chair #ill come back to them #that dec drawing of arwen i finished literally yesterday but bc i sketched it out on paper over xmas it still counts as last year ok!!!!#wife got me thinking abt what her winter outfit would be. her fault <3 #im sorry to say i decided for some reason she still wears tights they're just probably rly woolly ones so she doesnt catch hypothermia #hilda the series #art tag

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luke-hughes43 · 6 months

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Trevor Finds Out | Luke and Stella

(this is how and when trevor finds out about stella and luke being together)

Trevor's POV

For whatever random reason, I decide to check stella's location. It's her birthday weekend so I'm curious as to what she's up to for her 18th. I see that she's in michigan and it looks like it's jack house but I'm not sure. I don't even know why she would be there. I take a screenshot and text it to Alex to make sure I'm not seeing things.

me: *Attachment: 1 Image*

me: am I seeing things? or is Stella at hughesy’s house in michigan?

turcs: that looks like his house but idk what’s going on trev. ask Stella.

me: yea I should probably do that.

turcs: yea.

I don’t end up texting Stella and just brush it off but it is a little weird. I’ve seen her there before in the fall like once a month so it’s not uncommon but it’s definitely weird.

~A Few Weeks Later~

I’ve been keeping a closer eye on Stella’s location since I saw her in Michigan during her birthday weekend. I see that she’s back in Michigan which is majorly suspicious. I swear that she’s at jack’s house. But why would she be at jack’s house in March, twice?

Then I remember jack and turcs telling me how Luke got hurt during a game and needed surgery. I think he had said that it was this week too. A lot of things are starting to add up in my head.

Like her posting a bunch of pictures of her with some guy that I’m assuming is her boyfriend, her not telling me who it is, her just randomly popping up in michigan and then randomly being home again.

This is all weird and a little too coincidental. I text Stella and Luke to confirm my thoughts and suspicions.

me: ok, I have a question for you and I want you to be honest with me.

stella zegras🌟: what’s up trev?

me: I promise I’m not gonna be mad either stel.

stella zegras🌟: what is it trevor?

me: are you and Luke dating?

stella zegras🌟: yea.

me: for how long?

stella zegras🌟: since July. so like 8 months.

stella zegras🌟: i’m so sorry I didn’t you tell you trevor. I’ve been meaning too but we just wanted to figure things out in our relationship first and then you left for hockey and I didn’t wanna tell you over the phone and the timing just hasn’t been right.

me: relax stella, i’m not mad.

me: does he treat you right?

stella zegras🌟: he treats me so good trev.

me: like I said, I’m not mad that your dating Luke, I just wish you would’ve told me first.

stella zegras🌟: i know, I’m sorry.

me: it’s ok. as long as he treats you right then it’s ok with me. I’m assuming mom and dad know since I know you’ve been going to visit him?

stella zegras🌟: yea. they’ve known since September.

me: I figured. just be safe pls, if anything goes wrong or if he hurts you, I’ll kill him.

stella zegras🌟: i know. thank you.

me: ofc kid. do jack and Quinn know?

stella zegras🌟: i know Quinn does, I don’t think jack does.

me: if you didn’t tell him then he doesn’t know.

stella zegras🌟: so then jack does not.

me: figured. all right, I gotta go but pls keep my in the loop next time and I hope you had a good time seeing Luke.

stella zegras🌟: i will trev, promise.

me: talk later kiddo.

stella zegras🌟: ok.

I smile to myself because Stella seems happier lately and I’m glad to know that it’s because of Luke. I text him just to see what he says.

me: yo luke, got a sec?

luke hughes: yea what’s up z?

me: are you dating my sister?

luke hughes: uh…

me: I already know, she told me so just tell me the truth.

luke hughes: yea I am. we’ve been together since July.

me: is it safe for me to assume that you’re treating her right?

luke hughes: absolutely. she deserves the world and I wanna try to give it to her. are you mad that I didn’t talk to you about it first?

me: a little. I’m also mad that you guys didn’t tell me either but I’ve noticed how happy she is so I’m letting it slide.

me: this is the happiest I’ve seen her in a while so thank you.

luke hughes: of course.

me: I don’t care if you are jack’s brother or not, if you hurt my sister in any way, shape, or form, I’ll kill you. got it?

luke hughes: loud and clear.

me: good. jack know?

luke hughes: no. we didn’t tell him. we didn’t want to until we told you bb we wanted you to hear it from us and well, you’ve met jack.

me: good point.

me: anyways, just be good to her and me and you will continue to not have any problems.

luke hughes: I planned on it. I’ll see you around z.

me: see you around Luke. and I hope you have a quick recovery.

luke hughes: oh thanks man.

me: for sure.

I smile to myself some more. He does seems good for her and that’s all that matters to me. Hopefully he doesn’t hurt her because I don’t wanna have to explain to jack and Quinn why I killed their brother.

#luke hughes #umich hockey #stella zegras

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heroesfan101 · 7 months

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Love & Lore's: Autumn Sweater Event

5 + 1 (The 5 times you borrow Miyuki Kazuya’s hoodie and the 1 time he borrows yours)

A/N: Hi y'all! Super excited to post this fic for @love-and-lore and their Autumn collab event. When the theme was announced as sweaters, this idea immediately came to mind. Hoodies count as sweaters right 😅 Please note this does include a female reader and pet names (babe, sweetheart).

Word Count: 2.4k

1. Running late to work

Monday. Most people’s least favorite day of the week. Weekends came and went faster than expected. And while Kazuya tried to get you to prep for the upcoming week during the weekend, you preferred spending your time with him and indulging in your hobbies.

It is also noted that he tried to get you to break the habit of leaving your jackets on the back of your dining room chairs. Both, however, were a moot point but soon would cause your downfall.

“Shoot I’m going to be late!” You curse under your breath as you scurry around the apartment in an effort to get your belongings together. Lunch, check. Purse, check. What am I missing? My business jacket! I have a presentation today, can’t forget that.

Checking your watch, your eyes widen in shock. Crap I have to hurry or I’ll miss my train!

Without a second thought, you grab the jacket from the back of a chair before rushing out the door, not even having enough time to wake your boyfriend up with a kiss like usual. Folding it over your purse, you rush out of the house, determined to make your train on time.

Luckily, you board the train and get to work right in the knick of time, much to your delight. However, once you settle yourself, your phone buzzes twice and you look to see a message from Kazuya including a picture.

“Good morning. If you wanted to give me something to wear, we could have talked about it. Maybe I’m not the only one who needs glasses, think you got a little mixed up.” You bypass his sleepy morning smile and your heart drops as you see him holding up your blazer. Your eyes flash down to your purse and sure enough you took his navy blue hoodie. A deep sigh escapes your body as you text back.

“I’m sorry Kazuya. Seems you’ve proven your point on being prepared for the week ahead -_-" ” With a bit of embarrassment, you ask one of your peers to borrow their blazer for your presentation.

2. Grocery shopping

Milk. Eggs. Bread. Tofu. Salmon. One by one, Kazuya and you start loading up the car with your groceries. You were more focused on how to pack up the trunk of your car until Kazuya stopped to look up at the sky, light and dark gray swirls reflecting on his glasses.

“Hmmm. We better move quickly. Looks like the rain is coming sooner than expected.”

“Say less!” The couple moves double time to pack up their items and start getting on their way home. While they’re able to get home in good time, the stormy weather was faster as the sky opened up as they parked.

“Scared of a little rain are you?” He teases as he shifts the gear into park.

“You know I’m not, I just don’t like getting wet.”

“Didn’t know my girlfriend was a cat.” Kazuya continues, causing you to narrow your eyes at him.

“Just for that I should make you bring in the groceries yourself.” You sass.

“Ah ah no need to be like that, sweetheart. I thought you loved me? What happened to doing things together?” He chuckles with a snarky grin.

“We could but not if you’ll be a jerk about it.” You pout playfully, causing him to laugh.

“You know I could bring it in myself, right?”

“I know but you know I love proving you wrong. Luckily, I’m already prepared.” Reaching past him in the back seat, you pull out one of his black hoodies. Grabbing the bottom of the hoodie, you work your body through it until it swallows you whole.

He laughs yet again, “Well alright then, partner. We’ll get a nice warm shower after this.” Both of you brace yourselves before rushing out into the rain.

3. Feeling sick

“Achoo! Achoo!” Your body seizes before relaxing again. The door to the guest room opens up and in walks Kazuya with a steaming bowl of soup. You sit up, reaching for a tissue to soothe your sniffling nose.

“Babe! You could have left it outside; I would have gotten it. I don’t want you to get sick too.” Kazuya shakes his head but it’s easy to tell he’s frowning behind his mask.

“It’ll be fine. This is just to make sure you eat some of the soup while it’s hot. I’ll be fine like this.” He assures you before setting up a tray so you can eat. Throwing your tissue away, you shift to the edge of the bed to see the biggest bowl of soup.

“Kazuya, this is a lot of soup. You don’t expect me to eat this in one go right?”

His eyes narrow before softening, “It would be ideal but eat as much as you can. It’s a family recipe.”

Your ears perk up at that, “Oh? From who?”

He grins, “From me. I got sick one time and created my miraculous soup. I was five times better the next day after eating it. All in one go might I add.”

You shake your head, “It would be from you,” but then a weak grin appears on your lips, “but if you’re sharing it with me, guess that makes me family.”

For once, you catch Miyuki off guard with that as his cheeks are a touch pink. You both had talked about marriage as a real possibility but were talking things slowly as to not rush things along. Normally, he’s the tease between the two of you but he doesn’t mind your teasing every once in a while. He chalks up this boldness to your weakened immune system.

“Yeah yeah yeah. Enough talk, time to eat. I’ll leave you to it.” He starts to go when you grab at his sleeve. He turns back around to see the prettiest pout on your lips.

“I know you have to go but for the record, I hate this. Only seeing you for a few moments here and there, it's not fair. Can’t I at least have something of yours to help me out?” Kazuya starts to tease you but just sighs instead. He’d have plenty of time to tease once you’re healed.

“Since you like hoodies so much you can have this one.” He grins before taking off his gray hoodie and handing it over. You take it happily and bring it to your face, eager to convince your nose to start working so you can at least catch a whiff of his cologne.

“Thanks Kazuya.” You smile, placing it on your lap before diving into your soup. His eyes crinkle softly before he leaves you with his soup and his hoodie.

4. Borrowing Stealing his gift

The door to the apartment opens, causing you to look around the corner from your spot on the sofa. “Hey, welcome back! How was it meeting up with Sawamura and Okumura?”

He chuckles, “It was fun. I swear Sawamura hasn’t changed at all since our time in high school. Okumura seems a lot more confident than before, surely because he had the best teacher.” Kazuya laughs, causing you to shake your head before noticing something in his hands.

“Oooh, what’s that? Is that a new hoodie I see? Red too?”

He holds it to his chest protectively, “Yes, as the amazing senpai I am, they got me a hoodie as a thank you. Also probably because I told them I’m living with a hoodie thief so you’re not allowed to touch this one.” Your face blanches, no he didn’t!

“I am not a thief! A borrower maybe but no thief!” You declare passionately, refusing to accept his slander no matter how true it was.

His eyes narrow at you skeptically, “Oh yeah? Where’s my black hoodie? What about the navy blue one?” He asks rapidly, letting you know that he’s apparently been keeping track but you’re quick to defend yourself.

“They’re all in the closet!”

And then he goes in for the kill, “On who’s side of the closet?”

You blush and look away, “That’s irrelevant.”

Kazuya laughs loudly, “Yeah that’s what I thought. Gotcha this time, sweetheart.” He walks by you with a grin as you decide to turn back to your tv show, knowing you’ve lost this time.

It isn’t until later when you’re sure that Kazuya is fast asleep, that you find the hoodie folded neatly on his side of the closet. Your hands gently pick up the hoodie and bring it to your face, admiring how soft it was. Yeah, I’ll have to take this.

In your admiration, you notice a piece of paper fall out of the front pockets. Picking it up curiously, you read the note in Kazuya’s handwriting, “Hands off my hoodie.”

Your eyes widen before scoffing at his note. Feeling crafty, you decide to switch out one of your red jackets with his new hoodie, even going so far as to put his note in one of the pockets.

Laughing evilly to yourself, you stash the hoodie in one of your drawers and slide back into bed beside Kazuya, satisfied with yourself. So much so, you don’t notice the grin he has on his face even in his “sleep”.

5. Ice cream spills

“This was a great idea! It’s always nice to get a workout in the park with you. Appreciate you taking it easy on me, babe.” You smile, deciding to catch your breath on the park bench. He smiles at you gently. Of course he wasn’t breaking a sweat but doing light workouts with you on the weekend was a nice way to spend time together.

“Of course. You did well and we passed an ice cream stand. How about I reward you for your hard work hmm?” Kazuya asks, knowing ice cream was certainly a weakness of yours. Immediately, your face lights up and before you can say the words, he smiles and heads off to the stand.

A few minutes later, he returns with two ice cream cones and hands you yours with a gentle smile. You thank him sweetly before diving in. And in the enjoyment of your ice cream, you spill some on your shirt.

“Seems you enjoyed yourself a little too much huh?” He chuckles, causing you to groan.

“Shut up.” You say playfully, before handing him your ice cream so you can remove your shirt. Luck favors the prepared it would seem and you already had a tank top underneath.

Folding up your shirt, you turn to get your ice cream from him, delighted to have your cold, sweet treat back. Unbeknownst to you, there was more than just your boyfriend's eyes on you.

Now normally, Kazuya isn’t a jealous person. He loves being able to show you off but only when he wants to.

Unfortunately, he’s too perceptive for his own good. Once, twice he noticed a few of the park joggers were enjoying the view and it wasn't nature. Tch, you heard the annoyed sound escape his lips.

“Something wrong?” You ask innocently. He hands you his ice cream and takes off his dark green hoodie.

“We were just working out. It’s not good for you to expose your body to so much air. Don’t want you getting sick again.” He says gently as he places the hoodie on your lap and takes the ice cream cones. A small smile graces your lips as you put on the hoodie.

“Thanks babe.” Cold lips press quickly against his warm cheek before going back to the ice cream. The next time the joggers pass by, he grins cockily.

“Show’s over.” Kazuya mouths to them.

1. The thief becomes the victim

Oftentimes, Kazuya has training camps all over the country to train as one does when they’re a professional athlete. While usually, you could rearrange your schedule to be close by, this was one of those times where he was going too far (aka outside of the country). This time, he would be away in America for an international training camp. So while you couldn’t be with him this time around, you both made sure to at least message or call.

It was halfway through his trip when you were able to hop on a video call with him.

“How’s the camp going?” You asked curiously, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“It’s going well. It’s been interesting to meet global stars and see them play. How are you doing?” He smiled, a little weary after a long day’s camp.

“I’m doing good. Work has been keeping me busy but I wish I could be with you instead. Don’t get a big head but I do miss you.” Kazuya smiles softly at that, the one true smile only reserved for you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back home before you know it.”

“That’s good. Still not soon enough though. That said, something weird must be going on.” You say as you shake the phone as you go to prop it up on your dresser, giving him a view of you from the waist up.

Kazuya raises an eyebrow as he sees you searching the bedroom, “What’s going on?”

“I can’t find my sky blue hoodie! I just got some workout pants that match the color perfectly and now I can’t find it. Did you see it when you were doing laundry?”

The corners of his lips attempt to straighten even though they curve up a bit, “Nope I haven’t seen it.” There’s a light tone in his voice that makes you slightly suspicious. Looking back at the camera, you see something behind him sticking out.

“Kazuya, could you move to the left for a second?” You request curiously, causing the mirth to show his eyes.

“Why? What are you after?” He asks playfully, but the second he moves an inch your eyes widen in disbelief.

“Is that my hoodie? The exact one I’m looking for?”

“Can’t be.” He easily denies. You roll your eyes and exclaim, “I know what my hoodie looks like!”

But then the reality of the situation sinks in, “Awww you miss me! It’s okay to admit it, Kazuya. I just didn’t expect you to steal my hoodie.” You sweetly tease him, making him blush a little as he tries to cover it up with a scoff.

“Of course I miss you, we do spend every day together.” You giggle, “Look at you being cute. I guess I’m happily in love with a hoodie thief of my own.”

He laughs, “Consider this payment for all the times you took my hoodies.”

“Sure sure, but I will always prefer you over your hoodies.” You claim causing him to smile.

“I sure hope so. You’ll have the real thing once I’m back home.” Kazuya promises, filling both of your hearts with warmth.

#daiya no ace #dna fanfic #dna scenarios #miyuki kazuya #kazuya x reader #miyuki kazuya x reader #self ship #self shipping

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hischierswhore · 1 year

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more angst pls HSKSHDH i love the way you wrote angst shit and hurt my feelings. maybe for puli this time. like a really toxic christian who did not give a fuck about reader’s feelings because fame gets into his head and a naive reader who just wants to be loved by him 😭

i just miss you

pairing: Christian Pulisic x Reader

TW: none

A/N: thank u bff! this isn’t too angsty (i’m working on a very angsty one rn. should be posted soon 🙂)

You’d been dating since you were both 18, and when Christian got picked to play for Chelsea, you moved overseas with him.

Lately he’s been intolerable, acting like you don’t exist anymore. He doesn’t even acknowledge you. He never plans anything with you. It’s always about the team.

Now you just feel like a burden on him. You can’t stand his attitude, and it is absolutely killing you.

You walked into the living room to see Christian sitting on the couch, scrolling through TikTok. You sat down next to him.

“Hey Chris. Can we talk?” You asked as Christian looked up from his phone for a split second.

“What’s up?” He turned his attention back to TikTok, which led you to sigh.

“You know what, nevermind. You’re not even paying attention” You stood up and walked to the kitchen, which caused Christian to put his phone down and chase after you.

“Sorry, Y/n. You’ve got my attention. What’s wrong?”

“You don’t see it? Chris, we’ve changed. I get you’re committed to your team, but you completely abandon me whenever you have events. Hell, you don’t even ask me to accompany you”

“I didn’t think you’d want to join” He shrugged.

“Well maybe if you asked, you would know that I did want to go with you! Why wouldn’t I want to spend time with my boyfriend of 6 years?” Your tone got a bit loud, so you attempted to lower it as you finished speaking.

Christian stared at you as he leaned against the counter next to you.

“Do you want me to take you to every game?” He wasn’t fully getting what you were trying to say.

“Oh my god you’re not understanding!” You shouted as you rubbed your hands across your face.

“This isn’t about football, Christian! It’s about the fact that you never spend time with me unless it involves football. I miss going on dates. I miss just staying in and watching movies with you all night. I just miss you, Chris, but you don’t see that” Your eyes began to fill with tears.

Christian put his hand on top of yours in attempt to help you calm down. You took in a deep breath.

“Shit, Y/n, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that you felt like that.” His voice was soft and soothing, just like it usually was, but it still brought a little comfort.

“I’ll try to make more time for you, for us, princess” He grabbed you into a hug and whispered sweet things in your ear until your emotions finally settled.

When he pulled away from you, you gave him a weak smile before standing up straight.

“Let’s order some food.” He suggested before he picked you up and carried you to the couch.

You both watched Netflix while you ate burgers and fries on the couch. Christian pulled you close and wrapped you in his arms, squeezing you tightly. You sighed as he kissed your neck.

After another kiss along your jaw line, Christian pulled away to admire you as you laid in his arms.

He gently grabbed your hand and brought it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

“I love you, Y/n” He whispered to you.

A lump formed in your throat as you smiled and squeezed his hand tighter.

He hadn’t said those words in months, and to finally hear them meant everything to you.

“I love you too, Christian” You smiled at him and he brought you into another kiss.

————————————————————————

Christian kept his promise to you. You followed Christian around everywhere now. You went with him to all of his games, you accompanied him to events and he even took you out at least twice a week.

And they weren’t spur of the moment or hastily planned outings either. They were thoroughly planned dates.

Christian still tried to work around his schedule, though. He’d plan things around his trainings & games, just for you.

His goal was to keep you happy, and he did just that. Every day was special because you spent it with him.

#✎ natalie writes #christian pulisic #christian pulisic angst #christian pulisic fluff #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic x y/n #christian pulisic x you #christian pulisic fanfic #christian pulisic imagine

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rhoorl · 7 months

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Week in Review | September 24

What a week! Luckily everyone around my neck of the woods is healthier and doing well. Hope you are staying healthy too. Thank you to everyone who reached out to check on me this week, Frankie hugs and forehead kisses to you all.

If you are new or haven’t seen my Week in Review posts before, I basically ramble about a bunch of different things. Fic recs are up first followed by some more feral thots (seriously what was in the water this week?! I blame it on the possibility of TF2.). Then I finish off by treating this post like my diary entry for the week and share some things I’ve been up to/looking forward to.

Here we gooo!

Fics I read this week:

Before I get started with my fic recs, I wanted to shout out this list that @frenchiereading put together of authors whose first language is not English. Kudos to all of these talented writers!

Frankie Morales

Third Time's a Charm (AO3 link) by jwritesfanfics - Frankie and reader have been together and broken up twice, will the third time be the charm? This story wrapped up but I finally caught up on the ending and it was everything I wanted.

The Pilot and His Girl by @avastrasposts - I don't want to spoil what happens in the latest chapter but ahhhh this series is just so so good and will be a fixture on this list until it's done.

Frankie’s Way by @morallyinept - This just had so many of my favorite Frankie elements in it - dad Frankie, hot Frankie, and some smut. Also, this would be a great set up to Triple Frontier 2 if (and hopefully when) that happens.

Your Plans & Those Slow Hands by @wildemaven - This was an ode to Frankie’s…well...hands, and what they can do. I’ll leave it at that and let you read it for yourself.

@trulybetty I still haven’t recovered from this …

Joel Miller

Pump by @hyzer34 - In this AU, Joel is a personal trainer and the reader is his latest client. All I’ll say is that if Joel was my personal trainer, I would be a lot more consistent with my gym routine.

Burlesque by @cavillscurls - I caught the first part of this a while ago when I wasn’t as organized, so I was so excited when I stumbled upon part two. Young Joel ™️ met a showgirl in part one and they had a very steamy encounter and in part two he sees her out unexpectedly at a bar. I love Joel in all eras, but Young Joel ™️ really hits the spot for me these days.

@trulybetty answered an ask and we were treated to some Joel fluff.

Javier Peña

It's Never Too Late by @javierpena-inatacvest - I finally caught up and loved the most recent chapter. All I'll say is Javi dressed up as Hans Solo for Halloween was a visual I'll keep in my head for a while. 🥵 Besides that 😆 seeing Javi find happiness and love makes me so happy!

Marcus Pike

Cake by @trulybetty - The Pike Puddle is going to need to be renamed soon because there’s a lot of us and it’s getting deep! I have a real soft spot for Marcus, and this was a great combination of fluff with a little hint of spice.

Agent Ortega

For the Night by @ladamedusoif - So I about lost my damn mind (in a good way) when I watched Pedro in The Sixth Gun and I was so excited to see some fics pop up in record time. I’m already a fan of this writer and their Mr. Ben fic Visiting (go check that one out!), so I was excited to see this story pop up. Agent Ortega was so hot, obviously, and so sweet and I loved that he was paired with a reader who was a little older.

Dieter Bravo

Destiny & Deliverance by @mysterious-moonstruck-musings This story just continues to get better and better even though it’s ripping out my heart in the process. What I love most, besides trying to guess the twists and turns, is the realistic portrayal of how complicated love can be, especially when you’re learning about someone and their history, while also processing your own past traumas (holy run on sentence but this is my stream of consciousness). I want to give Dieter and Talia both the biggest hugs. I also love the companion series Deconstructing Dieter Bravo that popped up which goes a little deeper into the events of the story (note, it has spoilers about the series).

Posts from this week:

Need a laugh while also getting some self-care? @morallyinept had special guest Frankie talk you through some great reminders for taking care of yourself (no pun intended).

Feral corner:

Ok, y’all. The feral corner is going to need to be renamed at the rate we’re going because this week … whew! The feral-ness was on another level. My notification were a hot ass mess so I’m sure I’ve missed some posts but there was just some absolute gold on the feed this week! The prospect of a Triple Frontier sequel is really what made us all absolutely bonkers.

I am proud to have instigated some fun. This is what happens when I pop into an inbox with an ask. I will listen to any TEDTalk @legendary-pink-dot will grace us with, especially related to Frankie. Here’s another fun thread. To those in the Catfish Pond PhD Degree program I see you. Although the school year has started, I’m sure our professor will still allow for late adds to the program!

We also got some lightened up GIFs (courtesey of @grogusmum) of that scene for Narcos. If you haven’t seen these yet, get yourself a cold drink and enjoy.

The combination of gif and words by @intheorangebedroom … phew.

I also appreciated this ask I received from @goodwithcheese - any excuse to talk about the Triple Frontier boys is welcomed! I expanded further in this post (my Pinterest is now overrun with photos of men in gray sweatpants...)

Things I watched:

My husband and I did Baby Movie Swap yesterday (one of us goes to see a movie while the other watches our daughter and then we switch). He saw A Haunting in Venice which he liked, so I definitely am going to see that at some point. I went with my favorite coworker (the one who gave me the Pedro office calendar) to see the Expend4bles. We both have a thing for Jason Statham…long story and lots of inside jokes, but if you haven’t seen Spy you need to, he’s hilarious in it. Was Expend4bles a good movie? No. No it wasn’t. Did we have fun? Absolutely.

Also, I got a little surprise before the previews started and saw Pedro profiled as part of a Hispanic Heritage Month campaign AMC Theaters is doing. My husband went and saw his movie first and when the little profile came up he snapped a few photos and sent them to me lol

Things I'm excited for:

We’re doing some family fun this morning followed by a little date night tonight when my husband and I go back to Halloween Horror Nights so I can shoot my shot at Joel Miller see the TLOU house along with some others. We’re also planning on going next Sunday too (trying to get my money’s worth on the pass I bought).

Also this week, my parents are coming to town for my daughter’s birthday. I can’t believe I’m going to have a two-year-old soon. Wow.

Fic updates:

I had very ambitious plans for the last week but managed to put out Chapter 11 and 12 of Working Title along with a Frankie one-shot, Turbulence. Thank you to everyone who left such amazing feedback. I truly from the bottom of my heart mean it when I say it makes my day to read all of the comments and reblogs 💕 The little community I have found on here means so much to me!

I was having some trouble with the landscapers this week, but don’t fret, Chapter 6 of Delta Landscaping is done and I'm editing it so it should be up early this week.

Thanks as always for reading my ramblings, I hope you have an awesome week!

#rhoorl week in review #rhoorl movie review #rhoorl fic rec #pedro pascal fic

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lavenderbang · 3 months

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Felix And Your Tavern; Chapter 2

A/N: Okay so I’m back by popular demand because I LOVE LEE FELIX AND SO DO YALL!!! Anyways, doing this part in bullet points too, so sorry if you were expecting me to make an actual well written fic cause this is not it. As usual, forgive any spelling errors, I ALWAYS miss some on my proof reading cause my word vomit is insane. Anyways, enjoy!

Part I Part II

Warning(s): alcohol, swearing, also some talk about death, but that’s about it. Reader has the title of wife.

HES SO !!!

It was late autumn when you brought the idea up to Felix about getting a bar-hand for the Tavern.

With the weather getting colder, people were more likely to want a hot meal with their drink, which meant that Felix was getting a bit too busy managing both the kitchen and the bar by himself.

And with you serving the tables, keeping track of all the payments, and dealing with the inn residency, you were too busy to pick up his slack.

Felix knew this.

it made logical sense

but it made him anxious to no end...

“My Love, I understand. But we can’t trust anyone.” He said with a frown. You nodded along, wiping the bartop with a rag. When you looked up at your husband, you mirrored his frown.

“I know. That’s why we don’t tell them anything.” You countered, tossing your rag in the sink. You then went around to the tables and began removing the chairs from the top of them, tucking them in their rightful spot underneath.

You were to open for the evening soon, so Felix began to help you prepare by taking chairs off the tables and putting them in their places as well.

“They won’t need to know anything besides we own a tavern and an inn, and that we need their help.” You hummed, dusting off your hands on your thighs and returning to the bar, where Felix was removing the final stool.

You looped your arms around his waist and pulled him closer to you. He gazed into your eyes and you swore you still got butterflies when he stared.

“We need the help, Dear.” You whispered, focusing more on the beating of your lover’s heart than the actual conversation

and with the way Felix was gazing at your lips, it seems like he wasn’t too focused on the conversation anymore either.

“I know we do.” He sighed in defeat, before letting his heart take over and place a kiss on your lips.

When you parted, you smiled at him

You’ll never get used to the feeling of kissing Felix

it always gave you this light, airy feeling in your chest.

Pushing off him, you went back to work, not before placing one last peck on his cheek.

“I’ll post a notice by the door.” You hummed, taking the clean cups from where you left them to dry and hang them on the wine track above the bar

That night, you got a few inquiries about the job, but nobody who seemed truly interested.

But your saving grace came through the door well into the evening.

Hwang Hyunjin.

He was an occasional visitor at your little tavern, opting to come once or twice a week to have a drink and then go off to wherever he went

you honestly didn’t know what he did at night after his visit at the bar.

nor did you think it was you place to ask

none of your business, you supposed

but he always ordered the same thing; red wine and some fresh bread.

all you knew about him was he was a hunter.

Well, you assumed he was a hunter

He would tell stories of being out in the wild woods, how beautiful the world looked from under the green canopies with nothing but the grass under your feet, wind against your skin and the moon in the sky

You liked Hyunjin.

He was always very kind to you and Felix while being at the bar

as well as respected other patrons

not to mention, he never asked questions about your personal life

he only ever asked about what your plans for the future were and stories from the days he didn’t come in

Felix liked Hyunjin too.

He made sure to compliment Felix’s cooking and always left a bit of a tip ‘for excellent company and even more excellent food’

Hyunjin was a good guy in Felix’s mind, no matter what the other patrons said.

some thought he was odd because he preferred to be alone and was very private, but that never really bothered Felix

Hyunjin was nice to him and you

always was.

“Why hello stranger!” You joked, serving the man at his usual table near the back of the tavern

it was closest to the area you had musicians come perform.

Hyunjin always enjoyed the music when he came in

“The usual I presume?” You asked, to which Hyunjin nodded, with a smile.

You returned quickly with his usual order, setting the glass of wine down carefully

Felix liked to fill it to the brim when it was for Hyunjin

“What’s new?” Hyunjin asked, taking a sip from his full glass. You tucked the serving tray you had under your arm before shifting your weight more comfortably on your feet.

“Nothing much. Winter is coming soon, so we’ll have to start preparing the inn for that.” You hummed, letting a humorous grin play on your features as an image popped into you head, “I’ll have to get Felix to start chopping fire wood.”

“I think that is much more of a job for you, not him” Hyunjin laughed, taking a bite of the warm bread you had brought him, “I don’t quite peg Felix as a manual labor kind of guy...”

“You’d be surprised!” You said with a grin, “I’ll have you know, Felix worked as a farmhand for half a year to support us.”

“Now that I don’t believe!” Hyunjin chuckled, taking one more sip from his drink, “Felix is so skilled with domestic things like cooking and keeping clean, I would have never guessed.”

“I guess Felix is good at a lot of things.” You said simply, brushing a stray hair away from your face.

“Speaking of jobs, I see you’re hiring?” Hyunjin asked, nodding his head towards the door where your little parchment was hanging.

“We are.” You turned to look at the posting before smiling back at Hyunjin, “know anyone who would be interested?”

Hyunjin hummed, swirling his drink in his glass a few times before downing the remaining alcohol.

“I’d be interested.” He said, seriousness evident in his demeanor,

“that is, if you would want me?”

You perked up at the offer.

Hyunjin seemed like a good fit for the job

He was charismatic and seemed to be able to think and act quickly

not to mention both you and Felix already got along well with him and he knew the Tavern well from his visits.

“I’ll have to speak with Felix, but I think you’d be a fine fit for the position. Can you maybe come in tomorrow at noon?”

“Sounds lovely.”

“Great! Me and Felix will talk tonight and ask you some questions tomorrow, but truthfully, I don’t see why you wouldn’t be a perfect addition to our operation here.”

Hyunjin smiled with a nod, before standing and bidding you a farewell. He placed the coins he owed on the table before leaving, weaving gracefully between the tables and other patrons

Felix agreed before you even needed to explain your thoughts

If you had to get a bar-hand, Hyunjin was your best bet.

And Hyunjin enjoyed his work at your tavern

It always had felt like a second home to him

well, besides the woods of course.

He felt welcomed by you and Felix!

so spending every evening there was nice, especially now that it was getting cold outside

and he always needed to make more money so he’d be able to live.

And yes, Hyunjin made sure to never ask about your personal lives

because it was truly none of his business to ask you beyond what you were willing to share

However, he wasn’t stupid.

He wasn’t exactly sure about your past with Felix, but he tended to notice things when he would come in.

How you avoided talking about where you and Felix came from before landing in here in Miroh

or why you didn’t have any family or other friends.

or even where you got the long, silver bow that hung behind the bar.

You were good people, who never gave Hyunjin any reason to question that.

So he thought it best to just keep quiet

Working at the Tavern went much more smoothly after Hyunjin joined in

Felix mostly stayed in the kitchen now, but he also helped take a bit of the load off you too by dealing with the inn residences

and Hyunjin worked the bar well, never forgetting to serve the counter as he prepared your orders from the tables with an equal amount of quality and haste.

for months, this system worked well!

even when the dead of winter rolled around and the inn and tavern were at its all time peak in patrons due to the cold weather.

It was another night like this where the bar was packed and many people were sat and stood around the tables

You had a man singing today, his voice beautifully ringing throughout the tavern for all to hear.

You reminded Felix to make a plate up for him for when he was done his performance.

(You think he was named Seungmin? Rumor had it he was once a court musician for the Duchess of the Central Valley before he was dismissed)

You were slipping through the people, trying your best not to bump into anyone or knock your tray over when you felt it.

sharp eyes burning through you.

You made a quick glance around the room when your eyes met with a man in the corner of the room.

He was accompanied by two more men, all of which seemed to be skilled adventurers.

You kept your composure under the man’s scrutinous gaze, however you couldn’t help the sick feeling in your stomach.

You looked away, turning and standing at the bar. You placed your tray down for Hyunjin to put your order on it.

“Jin,” You called, earning a hum form the man behind the bar, “That group in the back. Who are they?”

Hyunjin let his eyes float to the table you were referencing before slightly frowning at you.

“Travelers. I’ve only heard passing whispers about them, but they are known around these parts as 3racha.”

“And?”

“All I know about them is that they often take many quests and wander the lands slaying monsters.”

“Hmm. Thank you.”

You took a deep breath, trying to shake the nerves you felt from being so close to adventurers.

it was the first time you’d ever encountered bounty hunters, and it scared you shitless.

Approaching their table, you put on the brightest smile you could as your eyes locked onto the one who wouldn’t stop staring

A stoic looking fellow with a fur cloak draped across his broad frame.

to his left, a shorter, stronger man holding a large claymore and a nasty look.

and his right was a pretty, squirrelly man that you could feel had this aura of magic surrounding him

You could tell they were strong just from the atmosphere they created around them

“Hello gentlemen, what can I do for you this evening?” You said, tone even.

You weren’t even sure if they were here for you, but you felt defensive nonetheless

The man with the cloak hummed, eyes not breaking contact with yours

“We hear you are famous for your baked goods.” He spoke confidently, voice coming out with an accent, “What would you suggest?”

“My husband spent all morning baking cranberry tarts.” You said, tucking a stray hair behind your ear as you smiled softly, “I would recommend that. We also have a fine selection of beverages if you feel so inclined.”

“Your husband?” The Big man asked, digging the tip of his claymore into the wood of the floor, before he looked up at you, “You mean the man behind the bar?”

“No, that is our bar-hand.” You answered simply, before quipping back, “Why do you ask? Perhaps you have an interest in him? I can introduce you, if you’d like.”

Pretty man let out a chuckle at your joke, before trying to cover it with a cough. Big man’s face heated up in what you could only assume was embarrassment or irritation, before your attention was directed back to the man in the cloak.

You blinked innocently at him, holding your tray limply at your side.

You felt like you were on trial as he stared at you. The tension seemed thick before he cleared his throat and grinned.

It made you feel even more unsettled...

“Tarts sound wonderful. We’ll take three.” He spoke politely, to which you nodded and retreated behind the bar into the kitchen for the pastries.

Felix was working there, washing dishes and humming a tune to himself with a small smile on his face.

It made you happy to see him so carefree.

You came up behind him, wrapping your arms around your husband’s torso.

You could feel the beating of your heart in your throat, and for once it wasn’t from Felix...

“Hey Love.” He cheered, turning his head to be able to place a chaste kiss on your lips, “Busy night, huh?”

“Very.” You chuckled breathlessly, trying not to let the sickness pooling in your stomach read on your face.

You didn’t want to worry Felix with the trouble of 3racha

As much as you loved Felix’s emotional side, it was sometimes a curse.

one that you didn’t need right now when you were barely holding on yourself.

besides, you weren’t even sure if it was trouble yet.

it could be just a feeling of unease and paranoia getting the better of you...

“I’m here for the tarts, A table just ordered some.” You said as nonchalantly as possible.

Felix beamed, eyes lighting up upon hearing that someone wanted to eat his baking.

as if it wasn’t a normal occurrence for people to ask specifically for Felix’s food

“Ask them how it tastes.” He said excitedly, drying his hands on the towel near the sink before helping placing some on a plate and hand them to you, “I tried a new recipe and I need to know if its good.”

“Will do, Dear.” You said with a smile. You eyes fell upon Felix and you felt your chest heave with anxiety and your heart squeeze with worry.

Before you could even think about it, you set the tray down on the counter and wrapped your arms tightly around your husband

Even though he was confused on why you hugged him unprompted, he didn’t hesitate to hug you back, holding you close to him.

you stayed like that for a moment, taking in his scent before sighing.

“I love you so much, you know.” You whispered dreamily, causing Felix to squeeze your body tighter.

“I love you too.” He replied, and you could hear the grin in his voice, making you grin too. When you finally let him go, you placed one more kiss on his soft lips, letting it fuel you enough to go back out there and face whatever was in store for you.

And when you did return to the table, placing the tarts on the wooden surface gently, you willed yourself to be calm and to appear as cheerful as possible

even if your instincts were screaming.

“Thank you, Darling.” The man in the cloak said with a smile. The name sounded like poison coming from his lips and you resisted the urge to grimace.

“Is that all for you, gentlemen?” You asked sweetly, hoping to be done with this interaction and get back to work.

You were sure this feeling was just paranoia and you were overreacting

yes, this must all be a misunderstanding and-

“Actually I have a few questions for you, if you don’t mind.” The man with the cloak answered seriously; Big man and Pretty man were much to busy eating to even speak, which would have been kinda endearing if you weren’t sick to your stomach.

“What can I help you with?” You asked, cringing at the fact that your tone came out a bit more shaky than intended

“I’ll be straight with you, we are adventurers. And we have come to these lands on a quest.”

“ah, I see...”

“Looking for the kidnapped prince from Clé. I’m sure you’ve heard of him by now?”

You felt your heart drop to your stomach as you nodded along to the man’s words. You felt a burning in your throat and you could barely trust yourself to be able to speak.

“Rumor has it, he is being hid away somewhere in this area.” The man in the cloak watched you intently, a wicked grin adorning his features, “You wouldn’t happen to know about that, would you?”

His associates stopped eating for a moment, gazing up at you.

You felt like you were suffocating in this moment.

Like you were drowning, everything around you slowed and you took a breath, hopefully to steady yourself enough before replying.

“I don’t, sorry.” You said weakly, feeling like a mouse caught in a trap.

“Now, we all know that’s not true, (Y/N).” The cloaked man said bluntly, leaning his elbows on the table and tilting his head slightly.

You stared back at him helplessly, feeling like you were an inch tall under the man’s gaze.

He knew you.

He knew your name.

It was like someone pumped your body with lead as you stood staring at the man.

“Y’know, these tarts are very good. I’d love to tell your husband myself how good they are.” The Pretty man hummed, batting his eyelashes at you tauntingly, “What did you say his name was?”

“Felix. His name is Felix.” You said firmly, willing all the strength you have in your body to standing upright.

“How much would you bet that your husband bares a resemblance to Prince Yongbok, hm?” The Big man asked, before pulling out a parchment with a portrait on it. You glanced down and immediately recognized it as Felix on the painting of the royal family that was in the dinning room of the castle.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. My husband isn’t the prince.” You said weakly, clearing your throat, earning a grimace from the cloaked man in front of you.

“If there is one thing I hate more than kidnappers,” He growled, gaze cold, “It’s kidnappers who lie.”

You could see out of your peripheral Big man grip his claymore as if he was ready to draw it on you.

You didn’t want to start a fight in the tavern while it was full and busy

but you were damn sure not going to let these men ruin everything you and Felix built.

so you did the only thing you could in the moment.

“I don’t lie.” You explained stiffly, narrowing your eyes at the men, “If anything, whatever you’ve heard about that situation is the lie.”

You were hoping to buy yourself some time to think of a way to defuse the situation

perhaps even lead the men outside for a confrontation instead?

That didn’t seem like an option when the man in the cloak chuckled, clearly irritated by your words. He moved his cloak out of the way to reveal the shiny steel of a sword hilt.

but before he could say another word, you felt a warm hand wrap around your shoulder.

Hyunjin.

Your beam of light in the darkness.

“Hey fellas, what seems to be the problem here?” He spoke smoothly, expression light as he held you firmly.

“Nothing.” The cloaked man said, before smiling at Hyunjin. He readjusted his cloak to cover his sword back up, “Just enjoying these lovely cranberry tarts and wanting to tell the chef.”

“Oh, he’s very busy tonight,” Hyunjin chuckled, gesturing around the room before landing his eyes back on the three men at the table, “My dear master here will be sure to tell the chef you enjoyed them though, don’t worry!”

“Splendid.” The man with the cloak said, features bright as his gaze still bore into you face.

You couldn’t help the uneasiness you felt, but with Hyunjin there you knew it wold be okay for now.

“Is that all? My master has many patrons to attend to.” Hyunjin asked with ease. You were almost in awe at how he seemed so unshaken and was so easily able to release all the tension in the air.

“erm.... well...” The man in the cloak mumbled before Pretty man’s face lit up.

“Indeed!” He cheered, glancing between you and Hyunjin, “We require a room to stay in.”

“Excellent.” Hyunjin hummed with a bow, before gesturing to you, “my master will go prepare your key and room for you, if you’ll wait here.”

He quickly sent you away, not without a look of worry that you dismissed with a nod and a weak smile.

You hoped that your expression conveyed how grateful you were to Hyunjin

Because the moment you got to the back to grab a key, you took a sigh of relief.

You were okay for now, but you knew this was just prolonging the inevitable.

so when you closed up for the night and laid down in your room to sleep, you didn’t forget to put the long, silver dagger you owned between your mattress and the frame; hilt out for quick access.

And while Felix failed to notice this, he didn’t fail to notice how on edge you were.

He stripped from his work pants, eyeing you anxiously fiddling with the sheets below you and staring off into space.

“What has you so troubled, My Love?” Felix asked softly, folding his work clothes and placing them on a chair across the room.

“Hm?” You looked up at Felix’s broad back before he turned to face you, eyes soft and face gentle, “Nothing.”

Felix hummed disapprovingly, walking to where you sat on the bed and knelt in front of you.

He laced his hands with yours, studying your face before placing a kiss to your knuckles.

“You can tell me anything, you know?” Felix said

“I know.”

“Then tell me, what is on your mind?”

“I guess it’s just...” You start. You look into Felix’s eyes and feel a sense of warmth.

He always brought you comfort, his empathetic nature was one of the best parts about how in touch with his feelings he was; you always loved that about him.

“I love you so much, it’s painful sometimes.” You begin again, taking a deep breath and bringing Felix’s hand to your cheek. He reacts immediately, cupping your face gently and smoothing his thumb over your cheekbone, face full of worry.

“I’m so happy with you and we’ve worked so hard, I worry sometimes how easily it can all be taken away. How you can be taken away.” You explained, feeling the stress finally spill over as you release a few tears, “Life has no meaning without you. I just get scared sometimes it’s all going to disappear.”

Felix stands before finding his place beside you on the bed, coming so close you can feel his breath across your face.

his heart felt like it was going to explode at your words.

of course he’s had anxieties and worries too

but he’s able to get through it because you’re always there

you’re his stable rock telling him it’s okay and as long you are together, everything will be fine

so he needs to be that for you now.

“Come here, lay with me.” He suggests, pulling you down so you lay in his grasp.

he is warm under you, like the midday sun.

You can count the freckles on his beautiful faces from this distance, like stars painted on an angel.

“I know it’s scary,” Felix begins. His deep voice is resonating in his chest against your head as he smooths his hands up and down your shoulders and back soothingly,

“I love you more than words can describe, (Y/N). And I promise you, as long as I’m still living, I will do everything in my power to be with you. I’ll keep you safe and happy, until my dying breath.”

“I love you.” You confessed again in a hushed tone, nuzzling your face into his neck. Felix grinned to himself, feeling giddy as if it was the first time he’d heard you say those three magic words.

“I love you too.” He repeated, squeezing you slightly.

You laid with Felix in the dark for what seemed like and eternity, with Felix lazily stroking your back and placing soft pecks on your head before he allowed himself to slip into the sweet release of sleep.

But not you.

You stayed awake, listing to the evenness of Felix’s breathing as you relished in his hold.

it felt like the last time you’d feel it.

It was well into the twilight when he came; the man in the cloak.

He moved quietly, only the sound of his feet padding against the wooden floorboards could be heard as he entered the room

he was illuminated by the light of a single lantern, just bright enough to see your sleeping figure.

carefully, he drew his sword and placed the tip at your throat, ready to strike you where you laid.

but he hesitated when he saw Felix grasping onto you so tenderly

why would he..?

“I expected you to come.” you whispered, your bleary eyes reflecting the light of the flame. It shook the man to his core how calm you seemed

“Yet you still housed me and my party...” He said, voice low and deep. you shifted ever so slightly as not to wake Felix or be stabbed through the neck

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t run you through.” He asked firmly, eyes cold and sharp as he stared down at your tired face.

But you had prepared.

You gracefully swing your arm up so the tip of your dagger laid at his chest. You expression showed no fear, much unlike the man’s, although he did his best to stay composed.

“You want to kill me? do it.” You said simply, pushing the blade closer to the man, “But be prepared to pay with your life.”

Just then, Felix shifted slightly and you freeze.

You would hate to wake him, even now when your life was potentially moments from ending.

The man froze in place too as Felix pulled you closer to him and took a deep breath, seemingly at ease by your presence.

This made no sense...

you sighed, removing the dagger from the man’s chest only slightly.

“Listen, if you’re going to kill me, please not here. I don’t want to wake him.” You begged quietly, eyes softening at the man in front of you.

He was still for a moment before nodding solemnly at you. He backed away enough for you to wriggle out of Felix’s grasp.

However, your movement caused your husband to stir.

“mhhmmm... where are you going, My Love?” He slurred, eyes closed and body still heavy on the bed, but clear concern in his voice.

This behavior confused the man even more as he watched you give Felix’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“Bathroom. I’ll be right back.” You lied with an endearing grin, petting his hair lovingly. The prince hummed before rolling over, facing the far wall and falling back to sleep.

You turned to the man and nodded towards the door, where you both exited.

Placing your dagger and his lantern on the bar, you pulled out two glasses from their places on the drying rack.

“What are you doing?” He asked, voice laced with an uncertainty.

“Well,” You began, grabbing a bottle of wine from behind the bar and uncorking it, “If you’re going to kill me, I’d much prefer to have a drink first, wouldn’t you? It’s on the house.”

The man stared at you for a moment before pulling a stool down and sitting at the bar, sword laying in his lap.

You silently poured the wine into the two glasses, sliding one across the bar to him.

You take a drink from your glass, feeling a sense of dread deep down in your stomach

but it was smothered but this horrifying numb feeling of the inevitability of this situation.

“Can I ask you something?” The man asked after what seemed like an eternity.

“shoot.”

“Why did you do it? Why did you kidnap the prince?”

“I told you, that’s a lie.” You swirled your drink around in your glass before taking another sip of it.

It tasted bitter as it washed down your throat, but you weren’t sure if it was truly from the alcohol or because of what this man was accusing you of.

“Then what is the truth?” The man mumbled, eyes down as he circled the rim of his glass. His lips were drawn into a thin line as you smiled weakly at his request.

“The truth is, we were in love. We are in love.” You hummed, leaning your elbows on the bartop before continuing.

“Its funny, it was actually his idea to leave, you know.”

“What happened?”

“Oh gosh, where do I even begin?”

And you told the man everything; how you began working in the castle as his courtier, how you fell in love, how he got the name Felix, the engagement, the ball, buying the tavern.

Everything.

When you finished, you downed the remainder of your drink and put the glass in the sink calmly.

The man said nothing all throughout your story, and even now he stayed silent. He stared down at the bartop, conflict running in his mind.

“You expect me to believe that?” He finally said, looking up at you. His expression was softer now, almost apologetic.

“Believe what you want.” You said with a shrug, grabbing the hilt of your dagger and holding it at your side, “But you better believe you’ll have to kill me before you are able to lay a hand on Felix. And even if you do kill me, because you know I won’t go down without a fight, good luck bringing Felix back to that wretched place in one piece. He would rather die than go back there and live as the prince.”

The man sat in silence for a moment, trying to read you; see if you have spoke any untruths.

But he couldn’t seem to find any in your tired eyes.

“You know,” The man sighed, grabbing his sword by the hilt, “I pride myself on being a man of honor. One who has a good morality and always does what’s right, no matter the consequences.”

He sheathed his sword and held his hand out for you to shake.

“I want to believe you. Based on everything you’ve said, this place, even how the pri-.... Felix was behaving, I trust you.”

You shake the man’s hand, letting out a deep breath that you didn’t know you were holding.

“Thank you.” You whispered, feeling like you were going to cry from all the tension you had stored up for the past 12 hours.

“I’ll be sure to explain to my colleagues the situation. I’m sure they’ll understand your predicament. Especially Jisung.”

You nodded, but your confusion on who that was must have read on your face because the man in front of you chuckled tiredly.

“I forgot, you don’t even know our names...” The man hummed, before grinning at you, “The name’s Chan.”

“Nice to meet you, now that you aren’t pointing a blade at my face.” You snickered, feeling relieved at the newfound ally-ship of Chan.

“I wont keep you up any longer, (Y/N).” Chan said, bowing at you. You bowed back at him, turning to retreat back to your room

back into your husbands grasp.

But you remembered something.

“Oh, one last thing!” You called back to Chan, who was already at the bottom of the stairs to go back to him room. He looked at you perplexedly, but stopped anyways to let you speak.

“Felix wanted to know how the tarts tasted? He was so happy someone ordered some.” You grinned. Chan let out a breathless laugh, the corners of his mouth curling upwards at your question.

“Tell him they were fantastic. I’m pretty sure my colleague Changbin wants some for the road.” Chan replied, showing off a set of dimples. You nodded before waving the man off, retreating back to your room.

You swore, you have never slept as good as you did that night after your encounter with Chan.

You would also occasionally see 3racha come back to your tavern time and time again

usually when they were in the area for a quest, but they never failed to spend the night and try whatever was specially made that day.

and because of them, you put up a Quest board by the door for people who had odd jobs and were looking for adventurers to complete them.

Things calmed down a bit after that

You were glad, cause it meant you got to spend much more time with Felix, which was nice.

Some nights Felix would hear a song he particularly liked and would emerge from the kitchen to pick you out of the crowd and dance with you.

You always felt happiest in those few moment holding his hands as he twirled you around and sang off key

and on the particularly cold nights, after you were all closed up for the evening,

Felix would read to you, with you snuggled up under his chin and his arms around you, illuminated only by the light of a single candlestick.

It began with simple short stories, but soon enough it became a nightly occurrence and Felix would read novels over the course of a week or two.

And when the snow eventually started to melt and spring rolled around, you would go out to the meadow just beyond the northern border of Miroh and have afternoon picnics.

Felix liked these days best.

You always looked so beautiful, basking in the warm sun while telling him about whatever juicy gossip you heard at the tavern that week.

It reminded him of the afternoons you would accompany him to the greenhouse at the castle, and how those were his favourite days back then too.

only now, you were his wife, and he was free to love you more wholeheartedly.

It was a sunny afternoon and you and Felix were simply enjoying each other’s company

he laid with his head in your lap as you talked about the newest shipment of ale you were to get tomorrow morning, your fingers mindlessly scratching at his scalp.

he let his eyes flutter shut, the sound of your voice and the smell of your skin putting Felix in a dreamy haze

He wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep for when you finally tapped delicately on his cheek.

“Hey, I’m so boring you fell asleep?” You teased, causing Felix to sigh and look up at you.

Felix swore you had to be an angel, especially in that moment.

“You could never bore me, My Love.” Felix replied, voice deep and groggy from just waking up.

He sat up and stretched his arms over his head, blinking his eyes a bit to adjust to the warm orange sun.

“We’d better get back, its almost time to open.” You urged your husband, reaching for the cutlery to put it in the basket you bought.

“I wanna stay here with you.” Felix whined playfully, scooting over to lean his head down on your shoulder.

“We cant stay here, we have to work.”

“whyyyyyy?”

“Because! If we don’t work, we can’t have yummy food to eat or books to read or a place to sleep when it gets cold.”

“That’s dumb. I want to just lay with you in the grass and listen to you talk and hold onto you and kiss you and not worry about anything.”

“I know, but life isn’t perfect like that, Dear.” You finished packing away all the plates and cutlery before placing a kiss on Felix’s head, “Besides, if we don’t open up our place for people to stay and be happy for a while, who will?”

Felix hummed, lifting his head to look at you before leaning in and kissing you.

This time it was longer

Felix felt so lovesick, much like he always does when it comes to you.

He willed all of his love into the kiss, holding you tenderly as you kissed him back with just as much fervor.

When you finally parted, you stood up and held your hand out for Felix. He gladly accepted it, standing too

You made your way down the cobblestone street, swinging your hands back and forth like children as you spoke about how lovely the weather had been the past few days

As you approached the tavern, you noticed there was a man sat on the steps out front

When you actually recognized him, you almost dropped your basket

Minho.

Upon noticing your arrival, he stood up, and blinked a couple times. He seemed like he was the one who was surprised you and Felix were there

He wore simple looking clothes, a cloak for travel, and no crown; this was probably to avoid crowds forming and too much attention…

Felix swore his heart stopped as he froze in place, locking eyes with his brother

He wanted to go to him; hug him and tell him how much he missed seeing Minho.

He had thought about writing to his older brother, but resisted to urge as he was afraid.

Minho wasn’t just his brother,

He was heir to the throne of Clé

Which meant he had responsibilities.

Ones that probably included bringing Felix back

So instead of going to Minho, greeting him lovingly, Felix held your hand tighter and swallowed heavily

“Yongbok.” The Prince gasped, a breathless chuckle passing through his lips as he approached the two of you, “so the rumours were true…”

Felix said nothing, only putting himself between you and Minho and taking a half step back.

He didn’t know why he had come, but his worst fear was you being taken from him.

Upon your reaction, Minho stopped, eyebrows quirked in confusion. His smile faded

“Why have you come?” Felix asked, expression firm, but he felt like he was made of jelly

You held his hand tightly, swiping your thumb gently across the back of it to help calm your husband down.

“For answers.” Minho replied, fingers fiddling with the hem of his tunic as he watched the two of you, “and to see you I guess…”

The Prince walked back closer to the door, nodding his head towards it, “I arrived a bit earlier and I didn’t get an answer, so I assumed you were out. May we talk more inside?”

“Did you come alone, your highness?” You asked, finally speaking up. You weren’t sure if you should treat Minho with formalities or not, but it felt wrong to address him any other way…

The Prince nodded, “I didn’t want too much attention if I didn’t end up finding you. So..?”

Minho once again gestured to the door and you looked at Felix, who still seemed to be glued to the spot on the walkway

In all honesty, he could barely sense anything besides the sound of the blood rushing in his ears and the feeling of your hand in his.

He felt like his brain was shutting down.

This situation didn’t feel real.

It couldn’t be real

“Dear, what do you want to do?”

It was real.

“What do you think?” Felix finally whispered, turning to you. You gazed into your husbands eyes to find panic residing in them

However, you felt oddly at ease

If Minho was alone, he wasn’t a threat to you

For now, at least

Besides, he already had all the information he needed to ruin your life

He found you.

What more damage could be done by inviting him in?

You nodded, urging Felix to go to his brother

Felix nodded, turning back to Minho, who looked at the two of you expectantly

Felix wordlessly approached the door, holding onto your hand still as he unlocked it, allowing the three of you to enter the tavern

Minho looked around the room; if he had any opinion on your tavern, he didn’t say. He simply stood by the bar, as you closed the door.

Felix was still staring at his brother. It had been so long, he almost didn’t remember what he looked like

Had he always had that hair colour?

“Uhm.. can I get you anything, your highness? Perhaps a tea or something stronger?” You asked tentatively, pulling down a couple of chairs at a table for them to sit at.

“Just tea, thank you.” Minho hummed, sitting at the table you prepared for them. You nodded, taking the basket back to the kitchen to put the dishes in the sink and prepare a pot of tea.

Felix still stood near the bar, feeling anxiety bubble up. The only ease he felt was the sound of you in the kitchen; it was the only thing that grounded him.

“What do you want?” Felix asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He missed Minho, but he couldn’t trust him right now.

“To talk” Minho stated, gesturing to the chair across from him. Felix hesitated, bouncing his leg nervously. Minho slyly grinned, “I don’t bite, Yongbok.”

“Don’t call me that.” Felix mumbled, finally coming over to the table and sitting down across from his brother.

He was still weary, but he knew you were close by if anything happened

“Oh yes, I’ve heard you have a new name. Felix, is it?” Minho asked, frowning as he tapped his fingers on the table and hummed, “Interesting choice. It suits you.”

“What do you want?” Felix repeated, leaning forward in his chair with his expression cold. Minho smiled again, playfully looking at the younger man.

“No need be defensive! I told you. I came for answers.” Minho said. You returned, teapot and a couple of teacups on a tray that you sat down the table. Minho thanked you with a smile, only for you to bow.

You felt unsure if you should sit

Technically, you didn’t work for the royal court anymore, but Minho was still royalty...

You decided to stay standing, placing a gentle hand on your husband’s shoulder to hopefully help ease him.

It did, as you felt Felix’s shoulders relax under your touch.

Minho poured himself some tea, the sweet citrus aroma filling the air; He quietly stirred in a spoon of sugar before tapping it against the rim of the teacup.

“First and foremost, It is nice to see you.” Minho hummed, blowing on his drink twice before taking a tentative sip.

Felix was quiet for only a moment before mumbling out “It’s nice to see you too.”

He meant it.

As much as he felt defensive and out of his element, it was nice to see his brother after all this time.

Minho grinned, looking down to his lap at the confession. He chewed his bottom lip nervously before taking another sip of tea

“You know, you really stirred up a lot of trouble back home.” Minho chuckled, lacing his fingers together and setting his hands on the table, “Do you know what mother has been telling people?”

Felix was quiet; he hadn’t heard anything from Clé since you left.

“That I kidnapped Felix.” You answered for him, causing Felix to look over at you. Your expression was unreadable, but you stared at Minho with some sort of resolve

The Prince looked to you, raising his eyebrows and scoffing.

“Exactly that. “The Trusted Courtier took weapons from the armory and forced The Helpless Prince Yongbok to leave with them, never to be seen again.”” Minho huffed in a sarcastic tone, crossing his arms over his chest, “Can you believe it? How absurd.”

“You don’t believe it?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed and lips drawn into an amused pout; Your expression could be described as cat-like; cautious, yet curious.

“How could I when I found this?” Minho laughed, pulling a folded parchment from out of his pants pocket and placing it on the table.

Felix picked it up and opened it, revealing his own handwriting.

He immediately closed it when he realized what it was, causing his brother to let out a laugh from deep in his chest.

“What is it Felix?” You asked, leaning over to look at your husband’s now reddening face.

“I noticed you took all of your journals and letters with you.” Minho hummed, before pointing at the parchment, “But it seems you must have forgotten one.”

“I- Well...” Felix stammered, looking between you and Minho. Sighing in defeat, he handed you the parchment and let you read it.

Your eyes lit up to see it was a letter

addressed to you.

from Felix.

“Dear (Y/N), I’m not sure I’ll ever be allowed to say this out loud, so I’m writing this letter. You’ll probably never see it; in fact, I intend to never give this to you, but I need to say this or else I’ll probably combust. I am in love with you (I can’t believe I just wrote that...). You’re so smart and so kind. I feel warm when I am around you. You are the only person I feel like truly understands me and I hope that you enjoy spending time with me like I enjoy spending time with you. The truth is, you make my days bearable. You are like the sun. The stars in the night sky. I had the realization I have been struck by Cupid’s arrow because I think about you at all hours. You are my muse; I wonder which flowers you like best while I tend to all of them in the garden. I take my dance lessons and I imagine you are my dance partner. When I lay in bed at night, I think about how I must fall asleep quickly in order to see you again. But what I think about most is if you feel this way about me too? I hope so. - Felix”

Minho watched you read the letter, eyes softening as your expression grew ever so brighter as your eyes flicked down the page.

Felix watched you too, clearly embarrassed by his younger self; but all that dissipated as he saw how bright you were.

“I don’t think someone would write something like that about their kidnapper.” Minho hummed, taking another sip of tea as you finished the letter. You folded it up and held onto to it for a moment, feeling your heart flutter at the words.

Of course, you knew Felix loved you more than anything. But it was special seeing how much he loved you and for how long he’s loved you.

You gazed lovingly at Felix, placing a quick kiss to his cheek. He smiled up at you, grabbing onto your hand that laid at his shoulder.

“So.” Minho cleared his throat, “Seeing as I found that, I knew that something else was going on. And I needed to find out for myself. So I followed the only lead I could find.”

“Rumors of a tavern in Miroh?” Felix deduced, to which his brother nodded, leaning back in his chair. He looked around the room before smiling softly.

“and it looks like the rumors were true.” Minho said looking between you and Felix.

A silence washed over you all for a moment. It seemed Minho was pretty understanding of what your relationship with Felix was

however, that didn’t necessarily mean he approved.

“So, what does it mean now that you know the truth?” Felix asked bluntly. Minho stared at him for a moment before leaning forward

“Are you happy?” Minho asked, tone serious as he laced his fingers together again and placed them on the table.

“More than I’ve ever been.” Felix said honestly, staring down his brother. Minho shook his head before letting out a sigh. His demeanor shifted a bit as you and Felix watched him seemingly have an internal struggle raging in his head. After a moment of silence, he pursed his lips and tapped his fingers on the table nonchalantly as he seemingly had made a decision.

“The truth is, I told myself if it really was you, I’d bring you home.” The Prince said simply. He looked down at the table, brushing a hand through his hair, “I thought you had made a rash and irresponsible decision and I was going to bring you back to where you belong. Of course, I’d leave (Y/N) alone. If I brought them back, Father would surely have their head...”

Felix’s grip on your hand tightened, his stomach dropping at his brother’s words.

Minho’s expression softened as he looked at the two of you, taking one last sip from his teacup.

“However, I see now this is where you belong.” Minho said with a nod. He gestured around the room, playful expression finding it way onto his face, “You have made quite a beautiful home here and you seem to be happier with (Y/N) than I’ve ever seen you be at the castle. It would be wrong of me to take that away, I think.”

“Minho...” Felix sighed with relief, thankfulness written all over his face, “I- I don’t know what to say.”

“Thank you, your highness.” You said, bowing at the prince. Minho shook his head and waved his hand, slight pout on his lips.

“There is no need for you to do that, (Y/N). You’re my brother's wife now, so consider the formalities negated.” He said, chuckling to himself, “Besides, I’m not the heir to the throne right now. I’m just a man who came to visit.”

“You should stay for the night.’ Felix exclaimed, smiling at his brother for the first time since he arrived, “The tavern is very lively in the evenings. And I’d love to talk to you more.”

“I can’t stay, unfortunately.” Minho said with a frown, “I’m supposed to be at an alliance coalition with some of the western kingdoms early tomorrow morning, but I snuck away just to see you.”

“One more cup of tea couldn’t hurt?” You suggested, raising an eyebrow at the prince and jabbing a thumb in the direction of the kitchen, “Not to mention, Felix baked a lovely batch of blueberry muffins this morning, and it would be a shame for you not to try one.”

“My brother’s a baker?” Minho teased, turning to Felix and cracking a grin, “No way he would be capable of something like that. I simply must try it out for myself!”

“I’ll go put the kettle back on, and give you two some time to talk alone.” You hummed, placing a quick kiss on Felix’s lips and retreated back into the kitchen; you did take the love letter with you to re-read though

Felix giggled, his body feeling like it was on cloud nine.

He swore, he never felt so happy

maybe it was because he was relieved that his life wasn’t over,

but it was also nice to see Minho again.

The two of them talked as they used to, comfortably and casually.

Felix wouldn’t have the chance to speak with Minho often when he lived at the castle; his brother was much more busy and with conflicting duties and schedules, they never really had the time.

But whenever they did, it was never uncomfortable or awkward.

You didn’t want to intrude on their time alone, so after the tea was done and ready, you brought it to them before scurrying back to the kitchen to make yourself busy preparing for the dinner tonight

Felix asked about Karina and how Clé was doing; Apparently they were well, and Minho seemed to truly love the future queen. Felix also learned that apparent Winter had been married last autumn and was doing well too (Felix felt very relieved to hear this)

Clé was in a minor food shortage, but Minho was hoping to supplement that with an trade alliance with the western island of Halazia, who needed lumber for ships.

Felix then told Minho of the tavern and what it was like trying to afford to get it up and running. He spoke of the evening activities and how he got to do what he loved all the time.

And of course, Felix spoke of you; he told his brother how you supported him always, how you would do anything to make him happy, and how much he adored you as a person. He talked about all of his favourite activities to do with you and how it felt like a dream come true to get to fall asleep next to you everyday.

They were so caught up in conversation, they were both taken by surprise when someone walked in the door

“Wow, you guys have been slacking off today! The chairs aren’t even taken off the bar yet.” Hyunjin huffed out, smile on his face as he hung up his jacket. When he realized Felix was with another man, he flinched and grew flustered.

“Oh, forgive me! I didn’t realize you had a visitor.” Hyunjin apologized with a bow, “Sorry for intruding.”

“Don’t worry about it, Jinnie!” Felix chuckled, turning to Minho, “This is Hyunjin, our bar-hand.”

Hyunjin bowed again, waving at Minho before disappearing into the back to “take an inventory check”

“I guess that would be my cue to leave.” Minho hummed, standing from his chair. He hesitated to go, wanting to spend more time with Felix...

but Minho knew his responsibilities far outweighed his desire.

Felix lunged at him, engulfing his brother in a tight hug, which was reciprocated warmly.

“I’m glad to see you’re doing well here.” Minho said, releasing Felix from his grip, “I’ll be sure to write to you occasionally. And if I can, I’d love to visit you once again.”

“You better! I’ll miss you too much if you don’t” Felix grinned, leading Minho to the door, “Goodbye and safe travels.”

Minho hesitated once more at the door before hugging Felix again. With that final hug, he said goodbye, with Felix watching him walk away until he was out of sight

Felix felt his heart ache at the sight, but knew that he would at least be able to see Minho again someday

which was much more joyous than never hearing from him at all.

“Uhm... Lix?” Hyunjin asked, coming out from the back and leaning on the bar. He had a slight frown on his face and a pout on his lips.

Oh yes, Felix almost forgot he would have to try and explain the sudden visitor, which was very out of the ordinary of him to have.

“Yes?”

“I don’t mean to pry, but who was that?”

“That was my brother.” Felix mumbled, thinking up an excuse. He chewed his bottom lip before gazing up at Hyunjin, “He’s from a far away kingdom, so he can’t visit often.”

Hyunjin’s frown deepened, but he simply nodded, flashing a fake smile.

“Well, I’m glad your brother could visit.” He hummed, before starting to prepare the bar for tonight.

Did Hyunjin really have no further questions for Felix? It felt odd considering that the situation was strange and Felix gave a kind of wishy-washy, short answer.

technically he didn’t lie to Hyunjin,

Minho was from a kingdom far from here.

He just didn’t tell him Minho was soon to be the king of said kingdom

Felix doubted that Hyunjin didn’t have anymore suspicions about his visitor; He had always been bright and attentive, being able to read pretty much anyone. Hyunjin most likely knew something was fishy but simply decided to not say anything about it.

that is, until the bar had closed down for the night and the bar-keep beckoned both you and your husband to the back storage room to discuss something.

“So, what is this all about?” You asked, oblivious to the situation at hand

“I finally pieced it all together.” Hyunjin stated simply, expression unreadable

you furrowed your brow in confusion, looking over to Felix who looked as though he had seen a ghost.

of course he figured it out.

Felix knew he would

But what did that mean for all you’d have built?

so many new people being let in on your little secret made him sick. Putting trust that his and your entire life wouldn’t be ruined in another person’s hands makes him anxious beyond belief.

“Pardon? I’m not sure what you are referring to, Jin?” You confessed truthfully; you weren’t sure what the bar-keep was speaking of, but you could feel your nerves grow weak as you were sure to be able to guess what this could be about.

“I was wondering why we had the honor of a visit from Prince of Clé,” Hyunjin began, eyes darting between you and Felix as he spoke, “I couldn’t remember where I recognized him from at first, but then I remembered seeing his face in the paper after his wedding. And Felix informed me that it was his brother coming to visit, which cleared all my suspicions up.”

“I... I don’t know what to say...” Felix spoke shakily, body trembling.

god he felt so stupid!

of course people would know what the Clé prince -the future king of a neighboring kingdom- would look like.

why did he reveal it was his family...

“The bounty hunters, not speaking of the past, even that Clé longbow you keep behind the bar...” Hyunjin hummed, crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk, “not to mention you bear a striking resemblance to a particular missing prince?”

You were silent, standing like a statue as you assessed what to do.

truthfully, you were even less surprised than Felix that Hyunjin had figured it out; intuition and a few clues you supposed.

“Am I correct?” Hyunjin tilted his head slightly; his gaze was playful as his lips were drawn into a thin line.

Felix looked to you, reaching out his hand to lace his fingers with yours before turning back to Hyunjin with a curt nod.

there was no sense to lie to the man anymore.

Hyunjin bit his bottom lip, staring at the floor. The room was silent and the air was thick with tension

Until Hyunjin let out a breathless chuckle shaking his head. A grin found its way onto his face as you and Felix held your breath

“Honestly, I’m just more upset you guys didn’t tell me sooner” the bar-keep hummed, looking between you two, “how long have I worked here by now? And you still don’t trust me?”

“Sorry Jin,” You frowned, feeling a slight bit embarrassed at him scolding you, “But I’m sure you can understand why we want to keep our past a secret”

“No shit, hey?” Hyunjin laughed, which sounded like a symphony to Felix

He wasn’t going to turn you both in

Honestly, now that he really thought about it, it wouldn’t be in Hyunjin’s character to betray you both like that, so why was Felix even worried in the first place?

Well, plenty of reasons, considering what the secret was.

But it was Hyunjin.

And Felix liked him.

He trusted him.

And you did too.

“Hyunjin, we should have told you the moment we hired you. We are really sorry.” Felix confessed, reaching his hand out to shake the other man’s. For some reason, Felix did feel genuinely guilty for hiding his past from Hyunjin…

It must have shown on his face because Hyunjin simply looked at before swatting it away, pulling your husband into a hug

“Hey, I get it.” He spoke softly, pulling away to wrap his arms around you tenderly, “both of you must have gone through hell. I don’t blame you for wanting to move forward and never look back.”

“Maybe we can, just once more.” You suggested, looking between the two men with a knowing smirk, “I think you deserve a bit more detail onto how we got here, no?”

“Should I put the tea on?” Felix asked, smiling at you and then at Hyunjin fondly.

He couldn’t agree with you more; if he’s going to know, Hyunjin should get the whole story. The truth.

“I’d love to hear all about it.” Hyunjin exclaimed enthusiastically, walking out to the bar and pulling down a couple of the stools, “I’m sure it’s a hell of a story…”

And you couldn’t help but agree; your life with Felix was quite the story…

One that now had more interesting characters in it.

And one that you couldn’t wait to see how it goes next, with the dawn of new connections, but the same love you had and always will have for Felix

——————————————

A/N: OKAYYY FINALLY DONE!! Just over a year this baby has been in the making, but posting my 3racha fic in this universe had me inspired to finally finish it. I know this part has a little less focus on you and Lix, but I get as though other characters and relations are also interesting. I hope you enjoyed it :33

#kpop #stray kids #skz #fluff #angst #Felix #Lee felix #lee felix fantasy au #lee felix fluff #lee felix x reader #felix skz fantasy au #skz fantasy au #bang chan #Lee Minho #Seo Changbin #Hwang Hyunjin #Han Jisung #Kim Seungmin #Yang Jeongin

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suddencolds · 8 months

Text

Fool Me Twice [5/?]

Hello, remember this series? This chapter took me like six months to write. It was very embarrassing opening up the google doc again to see that the last edit was in April (back when I rewrote this chapter from scratch five times over before giving up entirely.) Anyways, I need to post it before I lose my nerve. 😭

Part 5 ft. fake dating, a cold, and an intervention

You can read part 1 [here]! (No context is needed aside from the previous 4 parts).

—

The drive to Good Day Diner is uneventful. Francesca recommended it to him awhile back, when they were both still in college, and he’s been trying to puzzle out their recipes ever since. Though, even with the ones where he’s come close, he rarely has the time to make them properly, in between work and everything else, so he’s been back here a few times since then.

Yves picks up two pint-sized containers worth of soup—chicken farro and miso with ginger—and strikes up a conversation with the cashier while he waits.

“This isn’t your usual order,” she says.

“Yeah,” Yves says. “It’s for a friend.”

“They’re a fan of miso?” Yves considers this. They’ve gone to more than a couple work outings together, and though Yves hasn’t paid particularly close attention to what everyone else has ordered, he thinks he remembers Vincent getting miso salmon on one occasion, a few weeks back. “I’m not sure,” he says. “I hope so.”

“Your friend didn’t tell you their order?”

“He doesn’t know I’m getting dinner for him. I just happened to be passing by, so I thought I might as well.” That part’s not entirely true—the restaurant is a twenty minute drive from the office, and it’s not really on the way home, either.

“So it’s a surprise,” the girl says, leaning back with a smile that looks a little too knowing for Yves’s liking. Whatever she thinks she’s figured out, he’s sure she has the wrong idea. “That’s awfully nice of you.”

“It’s not like that,” Yves says. “We aren’t that close. I’m not even sure if he’ll be happy to see me.”

“Why’s that?”

“He’s done a lot for me, and I think—” I think I might’ve repaid him in the most ungrateful way possible, his mind supplies unhelpfully. “I think all I’ve done, in return, is cause him trouble.”

The girl finishes ladling soup into the containers and reaches over the counter for two caps. “Usually when people do a lot for you, that means they like you.”

“Or it means they’re just really nice,” Yves says. “I think that’s closer to it.”

“So you’re getting him soup because you feel indebted to him?” She sets the soup containers carefully into a brown paper bag, slips in two plastic sleeves worth of utensils, then slides it towards him.

“Something like that,” Yves says, taking the bag from her. “Thanks, I’ll let you know how it goes the next time I’m back. Have a good one!”

“You too,” she says. “I hope your friend appreciates it.”

It’s not as nice as treating Vincent to dinner, but maybe what Vincent needs right now is convenience, not luxury. if he’s already made up his mind about working late, then at least he can work late with dinner on the side. Yves doesn’t even have to talk to him, really. He can just leave the soup on Vincent’s desk with a note, as unobtrusively as possible, and then take his leave again.

The drive back is shorter than expected. Yves turns on the radio, if only to not be left with just his thoughts, and listens to the newscaster talk about traffic, and the weather, and a local festival that’s going to be held on friday. When he puts the car into park and pulls the keys out from the ignition, the silence that follows is not reassuring in the least.

He pockets his keys and heads up the stairs, into the office building, and takes the elevator up to the fifth floor. The office is well-lit, even this late at night—it gives the impression of it being perpetually daytime, even though the clock on the wall says otherwise.

He takes a post-it note off of Cara’s desk, scrawls on: Figured you wouldn’t have time to get dinner, so I got you soup, and signs it: -Y. He sticks the note onto the paper bag, regards it for a moment, and then—after reconsidering—staples it on, just in case.

Then he heads off—past rows and rows of desks, around the corner and through the hallway, past the break room, to stop at the doorway which overlooks the room where Vincent sits.

Vincent is still at his desk, paging through documents with one hand, scrolling through what looks to be a long list of email correspondences with the other. From this distance, it’s hard to tell that anything is off, except—

He looks exhausted. It’s subtle, but once Yves notices it, he can’t stop noticing it. It’s present in the way Vincent holds himself, as if the wiry frame of the office chair is the only thing keeping him properly upright. It’s in the way he blinks hard at his monitor, his eyebrows furrowed slightly, as if he’s been staring at it for hours.

There’s a mug of what looks to be black coffee on his desk, half empty but still steaming, which seems to imply that he plans on staying much later. Yves clears his throat.

“Still working hard?” he says.

Vincent’s gaze snaps up to where Yves is standing. “Yves,” he says. “I thought you left.”

“I did.”

“Did you forget something here?” Vincent dog-ears the page he’s flipped to, then sets the stack of papers off to the side. “I can help you look.”

“No,” Yves says. “Well, not exactly. I know you said you didn’t want to be bothered. I promise I’ll be out of here soon.”

“Okay,” Vincent says, expectantly.

“Have you eaten?”

“I ate,” Vincent says. The relief Yves feels, at that statement, is unfortunately short-lasted. “Lunch. A few hours ago.”

“Lunch was eight hours ago.”

“I’ll eat tomorrow.”

“Will you catch up on sleep tomorrow too?”

“If I manage to finish this by then,” Vincent says, “Then yes.”

Yves stares at him. Does Vincent really, truly think there’s nothing wrong with any of this? With whatever sleepless, miserable late-night work session he’s already seemingly resigned himself to? “So what? You’re going to crash on the couch here?”

“I’ll head home around 4,” Vincent says.

4am. “And what? Lay down for fifteen minutes?”

“Three hours, maybe,” Vincent says, turning aside to muffle a cough into his elbow. “I don’t live that far.”

He says all of this in earnest, as though none of it strikes him as even the slightest bit unreasonable. Yves can’t help it—he doesn’t think he could hide the incredulity in his voice even if he tried. “You have to be kidding me.”

Finally, Vincent’s face shifts to show—something. Something other than the utter blankness from before, something past the civil, perfectly drawn business facade. Yves doesn’t have to look for very long to register it as frustration. “What part of my answer was unclear?”

“None of it is unclear,” Yves says. “It’s just… exceptionally unreasonable.”

“By some arbitrary metric of yours, sure.”

“Ask anyone else at the office and they’d agree with me.”

“What you—or anyone else at the office—think about my sleep schedule doesn’t concern me.”

“Let me help,” Yves says. “Please. We’ll get it done twice as fast if I help. Or if you really don’t trust me, hand it off to someone you do trust.”

“There’s no need. It’s my work to get done.”

“You should be at home right now, not working overtime on your first day back,” Yves says. He looks over all of it, now—over the desktop computer and the monitor, the charts and graphs laid out on screen, the piles of paperwork currently occupying Vincent’s desk. There’s a pang in his chest that he hadn’t quite accounted for. “It can’t be pleasant doing all of this with a headache.”

Vincent blinks at him. “What headache?”

“The one you’ve had since before I left.” Vincent can attempt to deny it if he wants. But between Leon, Yves’s younger brother, and Victoire, his younger sister—who’ve caught their fair share of colds throughout the years, between the other members of the crew team he’d spent his 6ams with—who he’s seen frequently tired and occasionally under the weather—Yves thinks he’s well equipped to recognize a headache.

And Vincent looks as put-together as always, for the most part—he looks like he could’ve just walked out of a photoshoot for some classy magazine, his hair neat, his tie done neatly, his suit jacket criminally well-fitted to his shoulders. But Yves doesn’t miss the stiff set of his jaw and the tension strung through his posture, the way he tilts his head ever-so-slightly away from the bright overhead lights as if it hurts to look at them, the way he rubs his eyes or pinches the bridge of his nose, always subtle enough to go unnoticed. The way he holds himself, now, as if it’s taking all of his energy to appear so presentable.

“I don’t,” Vincent starts. “I haven’t—”

“I can tell, you know,” Yves says, a little dejectedly. “I’m pretty sure it’s my fault you have one, anyways.”

Vincent frowns. “Talking to you hasn’t given me a headache.”

“Not that,” Yves says. “But I’d imagine that spending all of New Year’s Eve next to me when I was under the weather might have.”

Yves watches the surprise flicker across Vincent’s face.

“So that’s what this is about?” Vincent says slowly, his eyebrows furrowing. He looks—confused, now, taken aback by Yves’s admission—and then a little sad. “You’re just here because you feel guilty.”

“I do feel guilty,” Yves agrees—that much is true. “But that’s not why I’m here.” he feels hopeless, suddenly, attempting to explain himself to someone who would probably have preferred it if he never bothered. Perhaps he shouldn’t have come. Perhaps it was presumptuous to think that he could help in the first place. “I realize now that I can’t change your mind on any of this. But even if you plan to stay here all night, I— I just thought maybe I could—”

He’s interrupted with a harsh, “hhHh’NGk-t!” which jerks Vincent forward in his seat. Then a soft, wet sniffle, and then another— “Excuse m—Hhh’GKT!”, neatly pinched off into his hands. Vincent’s eyes flutter shut as he cups both his hands over his mouth, his eyebrows drawing together as his shoulders tremble with an inhale: “hih… hiIIh… hI’GKSCHHuuh-! Snf-! hH… HEh’DZSSChhUH!”

It’s immediately followed up with a few harsh, grating coughs which leave Vincent hunched over slightly, his glasses slightly askew, his hands still cupped to his face.

“Bless you,” Yves says, a little stunned.

Vincent doesn’t say anything to that—he just reaches across the desk for a tissue and blows his nose quietly into it, before he discards the tissue into a small metal trash can under the desk. The tips of his ears look a little red.

His throat probably hurts too, Yves realizes, with a jolt. Yves really shouldn’t be prolonging this conversation if he can help it.

“I, uh, brought soup,” he says awkwardly. The paper bag crinkles slightly as he lifts it. “Just so you wouldn’t have to skip dinner entirely. That’s why I was gone earlier. I initially meant to just drop it off here, not—” he clears his throat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to argue with you.”

Vincent is quiet for a moment longer. Then he says, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“What? Bring you dinner?

“You didn’t have to come back at all.”

“I know that,” Yves says. “But I wanted to.”

Vincent takes the bag from him, lifts the post-it note so he can read the few lines Yves has scrawled onto it. He turns aside to muffle a few coughs into his sleeve. “This must have been a lot of trouble.”

“Not more trouble than attending a New Year’s party on someone else’s behalf, that’s for sure,” Yves says. It’s a wonder that Vincent agreed to that arrangement in the first place—Yves doesn’t know how he’ll even begin to make it up to him. “If we’re keeping count, I still owe you.”

Vincent regards him for a moment, his expression unreadable. “I never thought that you owed me.”

“Okay,” Yves says. “Then I’m doing this on my own accord.”

“What do you possibly have to gain from that?”

Is it not obvious enough? Yves sighs. “Nothing. I care about you.”

Carefully, slowly, Vincent opens the bag, shifts his documents over to the other side of the desk, and takes out the two containers of soup. Yves regards them closely—hopefully they’ve still retained most of their warmth, even after the drive here.

“I’m not sure if they’ll be to your taste,” he says, a little sheepishly. “If you tell me what you like, next time I’ll try to keep it in mind.”

“I’m not picky,” Vincent says. He rummages through the paper bag for a spoon. “I think I’d like both of these. Have you eaten already?”

“Not yet,” Yves says. Perhaps he should’ve picked up dinner for himself at Good Day, too—he’d been so preoccupied with getting something for Vincent that he’d forgotten. Either way, it’s inconsequential. There’s probably enough in the fridge to last a day or two before his next grocery run.

“You also got dinner for yourself, right?”

Yves must hesitate for a moment too long.

“That’s a little hypocritical,” Vincent says. “Do you want to pull up a chair?”

“What?”

“You haven’t eaten. You brought two soups.”

“They were both supposed to be for you.”

“You’re already here.” Vincent says. He shuts his laptop and leaves it off to the side, clears a space on the table, and sets the chicken farro soup in front of Yves. As if it really is that simple.

Yves stares down at it, a little perplexed. I thought you didn’t want to speak to me, he wants to say.

“Unless you’d just prefer to take this home,” Vincent says, misinterpreting his silence as hesitation.

“No,” Yves says. “You’re right. I’ll pull up a chair.”

—

Yves ends up dragging over a chair from one of the tables nearby—he makes a mental note to put it back before they leave. Vincent shuts his laptop and leaves it off to the side.

“Now we’re both staying past nine,” Vincent says.

“Yes,” Yves says. “I’ve always wanted to see what this place turns into at night.”

“Does it live up to your expectations?” “It’s a bit of a ghost town,” Yves says. “But not in a bad way. Feels like I could take all the snacks out of the break room and no one would bat an eye.”

“That’s the real reason why I’m here right now,” Vincent says, so deadpan that it barely sounds like a joke. Yves laughs.

Something about this scene—about sitting with Vincent, here, having dinner on the only corner of his office desk that isn’t occupied by documents—feels a little nostalgic.

“This is just like when I first joined,” he says. “When you were helping me with all the onboarding stuff.”

Back when he first joined, Vincent’s desk was a frequent destination. It’s not that Vincent is particularly friendly—it’s more just that Vincent is really, really good. He has expertise in things that he’s only done once in his life, and he can spot mistakes at a glance. He’s patient, too, even though Yves thinks that if the roles had been reversed, anyone teaching Vincent anything would never have to exercise any patience at all.

He can’t blame Angelie for looking to Vincent for help, either. It wasn’t that long ago that Yves was the one hovering at his desk, watching Vincent go through relevant work over his shoulder.

“The first couple weeks are - snf-! - always difficult,” Vincent says. “But you picked things up quickly.”

“I can’t imagine you as a beginner at anything,” Yves muses.

“Everyone’s - snf -! - a beginner at s-some— hH-! Just a second—” Vincent turns his head away sharply, burying his nose into his shoulder before— “hh’GKt-! Hh… Hhh’IIZSCchuhH! snf-! Hh-! hhih… HiH’GKT-!... Hh… hHih… hIH’IKTSHhh’uuh!”

“Bless you,” Yves says reflexively.

“Thank you,” Vincent says, with a small cough, which he muffles into his sleeve. He sighs. His voice has held up pretty well, but Yves can hear the muted edge of congestion in his voice, softening his consonants. “What was that you said to me? ‘You’ll get tired of that phrase really quickly?’”

“I won’t if you get over this cold soon,” Yves says. “Maybe that’s the real reason why I brought soup.”

“So that’s why you’re being suspiciously nice to me,” Vincent says, with a laugh. “I’m relieved to know you’ve had ulterior motives all along.”

Everything gets easier, after that. Vincent seems to enjoy the soup, for the way his eyes widen, almost imperceptibly, after he takes his first bite. (“So I was right to think you’d like miso,” Yves says, and Vincent laughs and says, “Am I really that predictable?”) When Yves offers again to help, after dinner, Vincent wordlessly hands him a small stack of business proposals. It’s not much, but just the fact that he’s agreeing to let Yves help is already a step in the right direction—give Yves an inch, and he’ll take a mile.

Yves looks through all of the documents he’s handed, scrawling notes in the margins, and then goes through another third of the stack of unreviewed paper on Vincent’s desk, while Vincent scrolls through pages of spreadsheets, processing data and creating new graphs. Vincent is almost frighteningly efficient, even when he’s not feeling his best—they lapse into a comfortable silence, interrupted only by the occasional, near-inaudible hitch in Vincent’s breath, always followed by a wrenching sneeze, or two.

There’s the coughing, too—always muffled tightly into his sleeve, after Vincent turns to face away from him, which must be exhausting. Yves doesn’t know why he bothers. It’s not as though he can catch this cold again.

(“Bless you,” Yves says, after the tenth-or-so sneeze, trying not to let the concern creep into his voice. “I think the pharmacy near 59th is still open. If you want, I can stop by and grab you something for your symptoms.”

“No need,” Vincent says. “If it - hh-! - gets bad enough, I’ll — Hhh-!”

“Bless you again—”

“hihH’IZSCHhhuh! - snf-! - I’ll get something myself.”

Yves wonders what his metric for bad enough is. Then again, it’s probably better not to press.)

It’s nearly eleven before Yves decides to head home at last.

“I can’t thank you enough,” Vincent says, with a rueful sniffle. “You must be tired.” “Not really,” Yves says. “I usually sleep pretty late. If you’re still feeling this bad tomorrow, take the day off.”

“I’ll think about it,” Vincent says.

Yves sighs. “At the very least, promise me you’ll head home sooner rather than later?”

“No promises,” Vincent says—though at the disapproving look Yves gives him, he amends, “But I’ll try.”

He sounds like he means it, at the very least. Yves supposes he’ll take what he can get.

[ Part 6 ]

#snz fic #sneeze fic #sneeze kink #snz kink #snz #i cannot decide if i want to write another chapter of this where vincent gets even worse or if #i should advance their story in the plot sense #i do like these two and want to write more of them in the future if people are still interested in reading more of them :')#my fic #yvverse

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