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sp0o0kylights · 4 months

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Part One

Hellfire did in fact, have cookies to sell.

More than cookies, which Dustin practically preened over when Eddie dragged himself back to their table.

The ornaments they had made were still there, but now the centerpiece was an array of baked goods. Spread out in a spiral, it started from the large cake in the center and spun out into miniature cookies held in tiny decorated bags, all while Harrington stood over them like a proud parent.

It smelled mockingly delicious.

Eddie glared at the display, resisting the urge to upend the whole thing onto the floor.

Cookies and cakes and (--was that frickin bread pudding?) whatever other treats Harrington had shown up with might look good, but Eddie didn’t trust it.

Didn’t trust Harrington, even if the bastard had never really done anything himself--but then, he never had to, had he?

That was the point of all that money, after all. So he could pay other people to do his dirty work while he kept his hands squeaky clean.

“Inch a bit to the left--there, stop!” Harrington was saying, like the bossy asshole he was.

Like he thought he could just come in and expect everyone to follow his lead.

“Perfect! Now don’t touch it.”

God, Eddie had to nip this in the butt, now. Before King Horrorton harassed his sheep all day, and cemented the club's undeserved bad name in the minds of Hawkins.

“Dustin what did I just say--”

Eddie stepped up to the front of their table, preparing himself for war. Looked over to his friends knowing they'd likely need a nod of reassurance. A show from him that said he had this handled.

There was no cowering.

No pleading, helpless, 'What do we do Eddie!?' gazes aimed his direction.

Hellfire wasn’t even looking at him, and not because they were all avoiding Harrington's line of sight.

No, the fucking traiters were flanking the King. Like they were buddies with the bastard instead of mortal enemies.

“Hey, Ed’s, Harrington brought pies. Cakes too!” Gareth said around a mouthful of said cookie when he noticed Eddie standing before him.

It came out a garbled mess, but years of experience had Eddie understanding him anyway.

Jeff was busy playing what sounded like twenty fucking questions regarding the setup, and even Grant appeared comfortable, happily letting Harrington order him around as they finished setting up.

Like this was some kind of cutesy Disney movie where they all held hands and sang songs instead of a hostile takeover situation.

Eddie’s eye twitched.

Sensing a disturbance in the force, Jeff looked up and immediately interrupted himself to point to a series of red and green cookies placed dead center, delighted.

“Check it out man, Steve made some shaped like dice!”

(And he did say ‘Steve.’

Not Harrington, or This Asshole, or The Invading Evil Forces of Darkness.

Just Steve, like Steve was someone Jeff hung out with everyday.

Jeff’s cleric was a dead elf walking.)

Eddie took note of what was in fact, dice cookies.

He hated how good they looked.

“There’s four flavors.” Steve told him, cocky little grin on his face as he observed his work. “Chocolate chip, peanut butter, snickerdoodle--and the dice ones are sugar cookies.”

He licked his lips before finally turning to look at Eddie, hair curling over his face and making him wave a hand to brush them out of his eyes.

Eddie hated how good he looked too.

‘Hate, hate, hate, absolutely loathe-’

“Great, sure, wonderful.” Eddie managed, though given the look Grant and Jeff both shot him it might have come out as more of a growl.

Dustin rolled his eyes, and Eddie couldn’t help but notice that Hellfire’s other two youngest hadn’t dared to show their faces yet.

Likely they knew Eddie was having an absolute meltdown over Steve’s presence and were waiting for his reaction to blow over.

(Their characters were dead too.)

“I have two full cakes--one chocolate, on vanilla--and a few individual slices we can sell.” Steve was continuing, as if Eddie wasn’t glaring a hole in his forehead. “Those did really well last year when I made them for the basketball team.”

Insults fought for space on Eddie’s tongue, but he managed to roll a 20 to pick the best one, opening his mouth to let it fly.

"Harr-" is as far as he got before he was rudely interrupted.

“Steve? Is that you?” A woman Eddie didn’t recognize but was clearly someone's mom came up cautiously to the table, side eyeing the Hellfire banner like a nervous horse. “That can’t be your famous tiramisu, is it?”

Steve beamed at her. “Well hi Miss Carpenter. It is!”

Eddie was bumped aside by a massive purse, the woman not even glancing in his direction as she stepped up to the table.

With a sneer, he finally slumped to the back of their little spot as Miss Carpenter looked over all Steve’s (not Hellfire’s and absolutely not Eddie’s) offerings.

Didn’t care to wipe it off right then, even if he knew he needed to if he wanted to make sales.

Jeff sent him a look.

The same one he usually aimed Eddie’s way when he thought Eddie’s antics were going to cause problems.

He ignored it, on grounds that traitors don’t get to be judgy.

“Oh,” Miss Caprtender tittered, the draw of Harrington’s baked goods clearly overcoming whatever fear she had about Hellfire. “Well I just can’t pass that up. The swim team meets aren’t the same without you!”

Eddie pretended to gag.

Waited for her to comment on Hellfire--their clothes, their music, hell even the length of Eddie’s hair--and found he was almost disappointed when there wasn't even a single question about Hawkins precious golden child was slumming it with the weirdos.

Instead, Miss Carpenter's hand went fishing in her purse for her wallet as she loudly called out over her shoulder, to presumably another annoying woman;

“Terry, Steve’s here! He’s been baking!”

For two terrifying seconds, there was a notable dip in the conversations around them.

Grant’s eyes went wide as several women responded to the announcement like dogs hearing food hit the floor, and within seconds their table was absolutely swarmed by the mothers of Hawkins.

Even Eddie’s eyes went wide at the sheer number of them.

“Hold, men, hold.” Dustin cautioned as Jeff and Grant both took a step back. “Come on, we need to get our gold!”

“They’re scary though.” Gareth whispered in horror as four women tried to talk at once, jostling each other so hard they shook the table menacingly.

“Ladies, ladies there’s enough here for everyone!” Steve laughed, showing off his disgustingly cute dimples as he did, getting several of the mom’s to blush at their own behavior in the process.

The sheer amount of attention of course, drew in even more people, and Dustin quickly took up directing, planting Jeff and Grant at either end of their table while he and Steve fended off the hoard from the front.

(Given the way he and Steve were equally ordering Hellfire around, Eddie finally knew where the little shit had picked that attitude up from. He was going to have to cure Dustin of it, ASAP. )

“Here you go Miss Harper.” Steve said sweetly, handing over yet another stack of baked goods.

Without turning his head, and in the tone of voice one used to warn a misbehaving dog, he added; “Gareth don’t think I can’t fucking see you, get back up here.”

Caught trying to sink under the table with another cookie in his mouth, Gareth found himself hauled back to his feet by his collar, putting a snarl on Eddie’s face immediately.

“Hey--” He started, defensive and more than ready to intercede, except Gareth wasn’t flinching or cursing or doing that thing he did with his mouth when he was desperately trying to hold in his temper.

Instead he was giving a sheepish grin and a half-assed apology while he hung in Harrington’s grasp, before doing what the guy told him to do.

(It did not help that Steve patted him on the shoulder when he released him, before handing Gareth a third fucking cookie.)

Eddie’s eye twitched a second time.

(He told it to knock it off.

It didn’t listen.)

No one acknowledged Eddie or his outburst, which meant he was just skulking behind the boys while they all worked.

Arms crossed, rings tapping a rhythm on his forearm, far too keyed up to do anything other than glare at the back of Harrington's skull.

The King seemed perfectly happy to ignore him.

Likewise, Gareth and Grant knew better than to bother him when he was in a snit.

Henderson made the occasional snappy little comment, but the brat had mostly left him alone now that they were well into the swing of selling, chortling over the increasing stack of cash Steve kept trying to get him to put into a “safe place.”

Eddie was seconds away from walking up and snatching the cash himself when Jeff decided it was on him to attempt the impossible.

Get him to help Harrington.

“More hands would be nice, Eddie!” Jeff called, looking more than a little harassed as the mom he was helping changed her order a second time, snaking out the last single slice of chocolate cake from another mom who was eyeing it. “Steve and I could really use your assistance over here!”

Eddie’s glare, which had been doing its level best to try and vaporize the King’s brain, switched targets instantly.

“I’m supervising.”

Jeff made a face like he was about to argue, but the King beat him to it.

“It must be tough,” Harrington said, tilting his head to look back towards Eddie, “to supervise people who are working so much harder than you.”

Which promptly set the mood for the next full hour.

xXx

Harrington was matching him tit for tat.

Every shitty, sneered word out of Eddie’s mouth was met with an equally mean toned barb, though given the repeated looks everyone kept shooting him, Eddie was very much considered the aggressor here.

A fact he cannot believe is coming from his own friends.

What happened to comradery? To Eddie stepping in and protecting them, from the likes of people just like Harrington?

But no, Eddie makes one fucking comment about how the cookies are probably half hair-spray and suddenly he’s the bad guy.

(Nevermind that Steve had fired right back, telling Eddie that any hair-spray taste was probably from all the drugs he did.)

Was somewhat, halfway--okay maybe amazing, Eddie might have snuck a cookie himself--food really all it took to get them all to turn on him like this?

Erase the years of Eddie being their shield in high school?

Act like Harrington wasn’t just as bitchy and awful as he had been in high school (even if he was, admittedly, being nicer about it all right now? Almost--aloof, like he couldn’t figure out why Eddie hated him so much, but likewise wasn’t going to take even one eye roll sitting down--and no, no, Eddie wasn't derailing this by thinking about his stupid eyes, he wasn't!)

Frankly he would have flipped them all the bird and stormed off, if it weren’t for the increasingly weird little comments people were making.

‘Oh Steve, it's a shock to see you here.’

‘Are you doing someone a favor?’

‘You know Pastor Jim said something about this game…’

The last one had put Eddie’s teeth on edge, even if Dustin had brushed it off. It hadn’t been aimed at Steve directly but the women saying it had absolutely been looking at the King, as if waiting for his reaction.

Not that Harrington would take the bait this soon, though.

There were too many people buying fricken…cupcakes and shit, while the King enjoyed the attention of the masses.

Eventually this tiny crowd would die down though, and that’s when Harrington would change his tune. Start answering some of the questions he seemed to be dodging as more and more people got braver about coming up to the table.

This whole thing was a ticking time bomb, and Eddie would be ready when it inevitably blew.

To defend his table, his club, his friends.

Even Henderson, who absolutely didn’t deserve it just then.

“Dude perk up would you? You look like you’re going to stab somebody.” Jeff hissed at him ten minutes later, when there was finally a break in the flood.

Eddie ignored him in place of taking stock of the table. (And maybe, sneaking another cookie.)

“Hope you brought more than this, Harrington.” He said, knowing he sounded like a stuck up ass and not feeling an iota of guilt about it. “Unless you plan to run home and bake more like a good little housewife.”

“Dude.” Grant said, casting him a look like King Dick might leave and take the cookies with him.

“Oh I brought more.” Harrington dismissed, with a small flick of his fingers. “And I’ll have you know you’d never find a housewife more perfect than I am, Munson.”

Then he turned to nail Eddie with the most shit eating grin he’d ever seen the King wear.

Facing flaming a brilliant red, Eddie sputtered for a second before finally getting ahold of himself and spitting;

“How delightful. I--”

“Okay.” Jeff cut in, forever the mediator. “Gary, Dustin can you help Steve pull the extra stuff out from under the tables? While I go talk to Eddie?”

“Can I try the tiramisu?” Gareth asked, inching hopefully towards the treat while keeping an eye on Harrington’s hands, lest he get smacked again.

“Only if you’re a good boy.” Harrington told him sarcastically and goddammit why did that make Eddie blush harder!?

Jeff sighed, before grabbing his arm and hauling Eddie back, away from the table, right as a younger man in some stupid sport’s jacket asked questions about one of the dice cookies.

“Look I get it man, I do,” Jeff started, voice talking on the sort of wheelding, pleading tone it did when he really wanted something and knew Eddie was opposed. “but Steve’s actually been super cool. We might actually make money off this, and he’s giving us all of it. Can you just… not antagonize him for five minutes?”

Eddie stared at his best friend in abject horror.

“You couldn’t have talked to him for more than twenty minutes total. Half of which he spent bitching that you were bagging a cake wrong! At what point was Harrington "being cool!?"

The asterisks were made by his fingers, which Eddie mockingly framed his face with.

He got a flat, unimpressed stare in return.

“It was a very informative twenty minutes and he was right about the cake. Now are you going to help or are you going to glower in the corner?”

Eddie gaped.

“I cannot believe you right now--”

Jeff didn’t even wait to hear him out.

“You’ve chosen to glower. I can’t help you man, but we’d all have a much better day if you weren’t at Harrington’s throat every five seconds.” Jeff turned smoothly on his heel.

Over his shoulder he added; “Seriously, don’t come back until you’ve worked your way out of your snit.”

Shocked, Eddie watched Jeff float back to the front, inserting himself easily between Grant and Steve and immediately striking up a conversation.

With the enemy.

“I didn’t know you baked.” Jeff told Steve loudly (and very obviously, for Eddie to see.)

Steve gave a bashful little smile, then shrugged. “It’s a hobby. Got into it back when the basketball team needed to fundraise a few years ago and Tommy’s mom got it in her head we should sell home baked goods. Turns out its kinda fun.”

“Please never get out of it.” Gareth insisted, a piece of God knows what crammed in his mouth.

“Dude, how many of those have you gotten into!? Stop eating the merchandise!” Dustin commanded, smacking at Gareth’s shoulder.

“I physically cannot stop man.” Gareth dodged, reaching out for another cookie. “I’m not sorry.”

Steve just laughed. All charming and buddy-buddy, like it was natural for him to be here.

Wearing a Hellfire shirt. Making jokes and teasing the guys.

In Eddie’s fucking place.

He seethed, fingers twitching, and envisioned the very unsexy murder of one Steve Harrington.

Cartoon X’s for eyes and all.

xXx

Trouble didn't hit the table.

It in fact, seemed to stay away as if on purpose, to shove in Eddie's face that he was the one in the wrong here.

Even the questions toned done, as the second wave of moms showed up, this round prompted by some former teammate of Steve’s Eddie didn’t recognize yelling about his apple pie.

Instead, Eddie’s wayward sheep finally made their appearance Mike and Lucas trying to sneak in as if Eddie wouldn’t notice during the new rush.

(Eddie himself almost caused trouble when he realized Lucas was wearing a Not-A-Hellfire shirt, which solved the mystery of where Harrington had gotten his.

He was inching his way towards them, a snarky word on his tongue when he saw Sinclair said something about how he was “already on Eddie’s shitlist for joining the basketball team,” in relation to what must have been a question about his Hellfire shirt, that caused Eddie to freeze.

With the air of a sad, wet kitten, Lucas followed it with; “I’m sure it won’t be long before he kicks me out of Hellfire anyway.”

Like he'd been punched in the gut, all the air left Eddie’s lungs.

Because before Lucas had said that, Eddie had been thinking it.

Not really--he’d never kick anyone out of Hellfire.

It was more that he'd thought about it in the way one does when you know you're right, and are having to resort to underhanded tactics to force the other party to come to their senses.

Like a sort of shitty, angry “I should kick you out, let you see what happens when you don’t have us!” kind of innervation.

The same kind he had heard the jocks sling before, when they were mad at each other and--God he wasn’t--he couldn’t be, like them...could he?

Like fucking Harrington, who oh fuck, was patting Lucas sympathetically on the shoulder and giving him some kind of whispered advice.

Sonovabitch.

“I’m going for a smoke.” Eddie bit out, vision tunneling.

He knew he needed to go sit down somewhere, before he fucking lost it in front of Hawkin, Harrington and everyone.

And wouldn’t that just be a treat for King Steve?

To watch Eddie realize he had turned into the very thing he hated, preached against, even?

That Steve was, maybe, possibly, doing a better job of following Eddie’s own Munson Doctrine than he was?

Eddie barely saw the room anymore--waived off whatever Grant was trying to say to him as flew past, shaking hands fishing for a desperately needed cigarette.

Maybe a hope and a prayer too, because apparently he needed it.

How long had he been like this?

Been a douchebag asshole?

Was it the whole year? More than? Or was it just now, with stupid Steve involved? Could he trace this back to that stupidly cute--no, no, annoying, asshole?

Was this some fucked up way of coping with his growing crush!?

Lost in thought and growing self hatred he nearly careened right into Robin Buckley.

Her slightly bent paper reindeer ears marking her as a member of the band kids who had been absolutely butchering ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ a few minutes earlier.

Vaguely heard her yell Steve’s name as he ran off (because that’s what he was doing. What he always did.

Run--from himself and his own fucking feelings, like a total cliche.)

--but didn’t take in that she was doing more than saying hi to, oh fuck him sideways--her friend.

Because she and Steve were friends.

Good ones, if the freshmen were to be believed.

Rather than go outside and catastrophize in the cold, Eddie threw himself threw the doors at the end of the hall, then up the stairwell, to the second floor.

Tucked himself right into a corner, right there by the stairs.

Sank down into a crouch, hands scrubbing up his face before tangling in his hair, head dropping between his knees, cigarette shoved into his mouth.

Somehow, Eddie decided, this was Steve’s fault.

He'd have come up with a reason for that, he was sure. A good one even, except he forgot one of the key features of his life.

He was a Munson, and as a general rule of life, nice neat things did not happen to Munson's--but they did get kicked while they were down.

“Okay, what happened?” Steve fucking Harrington asked, voice loudly echoing up the stairwell from down below, and Eddie threw his head back, nearly slamming it against the wall.

(Maybe he’d pissed off a witch. His life would make a lot more sense if someone had cursed it.)

“She gave me her number!”

That was Buckley, the shrill timber identifiable even as she whispered the words.

Eddie can’t really see them without giving himself away--could probably make his escape if he got down and army-crawled past the railing he’s huddled by, but figured this is their fault anyway.

Not his problem if he overhears a private conversation if they’re both too stupid to check to see if someone was seated literally right up above them.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?" Steve was saying. "That’s what we wanted!”

“Is it!? What if she’s just, you know, giving it to me?”

“...I’m not following.”

“Like in a friend way. Not a--”

“Romantic way?”

Harrington has the smarts to say the words quietly. So quietly in fact, that had Eddie not been in the exact right position he wouldn’t have heard--but he almost swallowed his unlit (he should have lit it, maybe they'd have smelled the smoke and fucked off) cigarette anyway.

“Sssshh!” Robin hissed, and Eddie can’t see either of them but he imagined her jamming her hand over Harrington’s big fat mouth.

“Not so loud, Steve!”

“Sorry, God.” Sure enough, Harrington’s voice is muffled. “How did she give it to you? Did she say anything?”

“She asked if I want to hang out after band, but because I have that stupid family thing, I told her I couldn’t today, but I can literally any other day, and she said she’d call me, and I said--”

“Robs, breathe.”

“Don’t interrupt me, Dingus!” Robin said, voice shrill again, before she clearly listened to Harrington and took a breath.

It was big, and deep, and she blasted it back out loud enough for the fucking birds on the roof to hear.

In a calmer voice, Robin continued; “I said we never traded phone numbers so I didn’t have hers. She grabbed my arm and wrote her number on it. Look, she added a heart!”

“Okay, here you go! A hearts a good sign!"

And Harrington sounded--sounds happy for her, practically ecstatic, which doesn’t make much sense given Robin is talking about a ‘her’ and-

And-and-and--

Eddie’s always been quick to connect the dots.

It’s something he inherited from his old man. A Munson trait he’s tried to make his own through being an excellent DM (and not by robbing people blind or boosting cars.)

Here, the dots clearly screamed that Robin Buckley was trying to ask a woman out.

You know, in a gay way.

Which Harrington not only knew, but was supportive of.

Steve Harrington, who famously called Jonathan Byers' a queer before smashing the guy's beloved camera into the ground.

Eddie’s head exploded.

Or was in the process of exploding--he’s not entirely sure given the tunnel vision was back and his soul felt like it had exited his body entirely.

Just knew that his world was being remade for a second time in five minutes, and that he was dealing with it pretty damn poorly.

(Maybe God would be nice for once, and just give him the aneurism he clearly deserved.)

Which was of course, when trouble finally did decide to show face, in the form of Dustin Henderson barging through the doors and into Steve and Robin's little meeting.

Eddie knew, because Eddie could hear him.

“Steve! Steve we have a problem!”

“I’m busy Dustin--”

“Be busy later, we have an emergency on our hands!”

“And what, pray tell, do you think is an emergency?”

Eddie, who had instantly latched onto the conversation by the sheer need to have something distract him from his own thoughts, wondered the very same.

“Jason Carver showed up at the table, with a priest. They’re trying to do some whole kind of crazy sermon--is that a good enough emergency for you!?”

“Oh shit. ” Steve spat, at the same time Eddie yelled it from up high.

He sprang up, all thoughts of Robin and Steve knowing he’d eavesdropped vanishing entirely from his head as he lunged for the stairs.

Flew down them, because the thing he'd been waiting all fucking day for had finally happened.

He nearly crashed into Robin once again as he blew through the barely closed doors, Steve and Dustin already far ahead of him.

“Eddie?” Robin asked, voice noticeably nervous. "Were you--"

"Not now Starbuck, but we can talk later." Eddie told her, flying right past.

After he saved Hellfire.

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banggyu0308 · 10 months

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genre: internet strangers to lovers, idol au, smut

warnings: nsfw under the cut, not very coherent, slutty yeonjun, dom!yeonjun, sexting, choking kink, pet names (baby), praise, drinking (they don't get THAT drunk, alright guys?), one night stand-ish, degradation, unprotected sex, breeding kink, handholding, cursing, dacryphilia, yeonjun lurks on social media TT, reader is bold ASF, not proofread

wc: 2.5k+

an: tysm for the username help @itgirlgyu TT + this is just for the delulus + @beomsl MEL YOU REMEMBER WHEN WE TALKED ABT PART OF THIS???? + i might title this later but who knows!!

taglist: @full-sunnies , @agustdiv1ne

yeonjun who likes to wear his tank tops to show off, loves heading onto moa twitter and tumblr after lives just to see the fandom having a meltdown... especially hard stan social media, watching all the comments and photos of himself show up. he likes being in control like this, having the power to make everyone else go crazy just by wearing something else that day.

he scrolls and scrolls and one specific post pops up, it's community labeled and when he clicks 'keep reading', he can see why; pretty tits on display from the original poster, comments in the tags all about how she's all his, and he's not very surprised to feel himself growing hard in his pants. yeonjun eyes the username, ready to click the blue-fonted 'follow' button, but it's already gone, and his eyes widen to see that it's an account he's been following and interacting with for a while. that fact only makes it better, and he's clicking to his chat with you before he can even think it through what he's about to do.

yawnchoi you look really pretty in that new post...

yn what can i say? yeonjun brings out a special part of me 😭

yawnchoi im very sure he feels the exact same

yn in my dreams 😭 don't fuel my deluluness

yawnchoi i'm being very serious right now

yn mhm mhm sureeee and how would YOU know? 😑

yawnchoi ajksdbwsjdhbw maybe this wasn't a good idea

yn WHAT wasn't a good idea, hm? 🤨

yawnchoi baby all i'm trying to do is figure out how to word that i'm yeonjun 😭

yn i do not believe you for one moment

yawnchoi i'll send a pic that i would never, ever post and you can even reverse image search it or whatever or i could send a video, im not messing around baby

yn go ahead then ;-;

yawnchoi [sent a photo]

yn alright so yeonjun would definitely never post a photo of him in his boxers in bed so imma need that video 🙏

yawnchoi [sent a video]

yn oh. oh holy shit choi yeonjun has seen my tits- NOT ONLY HAS HE SEEN MY TITS HE LIKES THEM- one sec imma need to process haha im totally not hyperventilating haha

yn alright im back hi haha

yawnchoi helloooo 👋

yn wow. alright. so. uh. how do i ask this- you wanna see more tit pics?

yawnchoi THAT WAS SO BOLD HELP ME- but yes pleaseeee

yn [sent a photo]

yawnchoi oh baby- holy shit you're so pretty 🥺

yn thanks jjunie kwsnbdwjkd im still like- going crazy rn yawnchoi thats cute baby :((

yn wjhbswhjdhj so- since you've seen my tits i wanna see you again :(( preferably your dick but haha

yawnchoi yeah? pretty baby wants to see my dick?

yn kjwbshwjdbhe yes please?

yawnchoi asking so nicely... alright baby~ [sent a photo]

yn oh 😳 oh fuck alright sjbdsewjh wanna touch :((

yawnchoi me or yourself, baby?

yn well, both, but only one can happen, right? so me-

yawnchoi go ahead, can i see? yn alright 😳 [sent a video]

yawnchoi baby's so pretty :(( wanna see you cum for me <3

yn [sent a video] would be better if you were here :( want you to touch me so bad wjbwjhdbe

yawnchoi can fly you into korea if you want...

yn YOU'RE KISSING *KIDDING

yawnchoi i'm notttttttt dekjbdekj pretty cunt's got me all horny :((

yn i don't even care if it's a one night stand choi fucking yeonjun's gonna fly me out to korea to fuck me heck yeah

---------------------------------

and he does. books a flight last minute for the next day, from your country to seoul, puts on a pair of sunglasses and his least conspicuous outfit, and drives to the airport. he isn't THAT nervous- it's not like he thinks you're gonna murder him.

and when you walk out of the airport building with nothing but a backpack with you, looking around and waving slightly when you see him, his heart quickens just a little. (and NOT just because he's seen you naked).

you decide to sit in the back of his car for no reason other than you want to, and maybe a little bit because you can't exactly handle looking at him straight on quite yet.

to your surprise, there's no awkward small talk, just him getting straight to the point and saying all the members are out of the dorm currently, but, ever the gentleman, he says since you flew a long way, you can sleep a little bit first and he won't bother you.

your whole body is on alert and you find yourself thinking that there's no way you'd be able to sleep now. it's one thing to sext someone knowing they're an idol- another to actually be in the car with them, on your way to where they live, and knowing you're going to actually fuck them.

yeonjun politely takes your bag when you get out of the car, and when his fingers wrap around the strap, his hand brushes yours slightly. you internally feel like you might faint- you hadn't actually prepared yourself for this, and now he was touching you and he feels real and you knew he was real but now it just feels extra.

holding your bag, he opens the door to the dorm, leading you in before following, taking you into his room and placing your bag down on the floor next to his bed. every single action that takes him closer to you makes your face grow hot, the bed dipping slightly under your weight when you sit down. the sheets are soft, but your mind barely registers it, focusing instead on the fact that you are in yeonjun's bed.

he opens his mouth to say something, and you panic, cutting him off quickly with a wry grin and a statement. "i might need some alcohol in my system before we do anything else."

yeonjun raises his eyebrows in the slightest, a little surprised, but he also gets it. he's pretty sure both his body and his mind want you way too much right now, but he's so nervous he might not do anything. his hands are twisted in his lap and he quickly realizes and sits on them instead before standing.

he leads you to the kitchen, getting himself a can of beer and letting you pour yourself a couple shots of vodka. you know your limits- it's just enough for you to get a little tipsy and stop overthinking everything.

knocking one back, you enjoy the burn in your throat before taking the second. the slight buzz under your skin makes you smile slightly, leaning against the counter while he takes long sips of his own drink. it's obvious he wants this to pick up, so you busy yourself messing with his shirt just a little while he drinks. you slip your fingers under his sleeve, mindlessly rubbing your fingertips back and forth over his skin. you can tell he remembered your comments the previous day about his arms, basing his outfit around that.

he has another tank top on today, arms flexing when he brings the can to his lips to take another sip, and you move your hands a little farther down to rest on his chest. this time, when he lowers the can, his lips are a little wet from the drink and you can't help but press a messy kiss to them, licking the liquid off. yeonjun lets out a slight hiss when your tongues meet, left hand reaching behind him to place the can on the counter.

the alcohol must really be working already because you're both stumbling to his room, messily tugging each other's clothes off, and yeonjun leaves a line of wet hickeys up your neck. each and every touch of his skin on yours makes you feel fire burn a trail across your body, but it's in a way that makes you almost absolutely sure that it's not just because he's one of your celebrity crushes, or because you're a little drunk.

yeonjun's movements are so rushed that in seconds he's on top of you, his own shirt off, pants quick to follow once you tug at them. your hands find way to his newly-lightened hair when his lips and tongue meet yours again, a different kind of intoxication weaving itself up and over each of your limbs, the kind of intoxication that makes you want to live and breathe this man.

"want you," he whispers, cheeks pink from the alcohol, his eyes slightly glazed when he looks into yours, and the way he says it makes your cheeks grow hot again.

"go ahead then, 'm all yours," you exhale in response, trying to ignore the way your heart twinges at your own words. this is just a one time thing, you have to remind yourself.

but yeonjun's eyes light up and he presses another kiss to your lower lip, one hand moving between your legs to part them. his eyes lower to your cunt, and you can feel the way your underwear are sticking to your pussy. you'd chosen to wear white underwear today and you're pretty sure they're see-through by now, drenched completely from all the feelings yeonjun's touch is sending through you.

"all mine?" yeonjun mumbles, eyes wide. and when you nod, he smirks slightly. "love your cunt so much, i might just take you right now." your own eyes widen and yeonjun can feel your breath hitch. "but you'd like that, wouldn't you? pretty slut would love her jjunie taking her raw, would love to have me cum inside..."

you suck in a breath through your teeth at his words, nodding quickly, spread out on the bed beneath him. your mouth tastes like alcohol and yeonjun, and your brain tries to forget how he so flippantly called himself your jjunie.

"jjun, just, just fuck me, please?" you whimper out when he rubs a fingertip over your clothed cunt.

"baby asked so nicely, might as well give her what she wants," he coos, tugging off his boxers only once he slides your underwear down your legs. "promise you'll let me taste you next time?"

you nod, too distracted by the fact that he's already planning a 'next time' in his head to realize that he wants to eat you out, but by the time you understand, he has the tip of his cock pressed to your entrance, other hand holding yours as he slowly pushes in. the gesture feels sweet, romantic even, and you let your eyes fall shut when he pauses his movements.

yeonjun's body is pressed flush to yours in a way that allows him to brush his fingers over your neck, skin smooth against you. his hand wraps loosely around your neck and his breath is hot on your cheek when he whispers, "is this okay?"

you nod once more, only because the combination of the alcohol and his body on you is making your brain so fuzzy you can't think clear enough to speak. yeonjun hums lightly and experiments with his grip, making you gasp a little when he also hits your g-spot. he lets out a hiss when your already-tight walls tighten further around him.

he'd had a feeling that you'd feel like heaven around him, just because of the fact you had stated you were only able to fit two fingers inside yourself, but he had obviously underestimated all the sensations that were going to overwhelm him like they are now. every movement of his hips towards yours makes him fight to control the tremble of his body. your hand is linked with the one he doesn't have around your neck and every time he buries himself completely inside you, your hand tightens just a little around his.

he's losing himself just a little, hand still laced with yours, pace quickening until jolty, broken, high pitched moans are the only sound leaving you. yeonjun can't help but smirk at that, hoisting one leg over his shoulder. "fucking pussy is so perfect, almost like it's made for me, taking me so well... might just keep you here, my personal little cumslut, could bring you on tour with us, fuck you every night in the hotel room, how'd you like that, hm?"

his rhythm is so brutal you're choking on your words by now, broken sobs slipping through your parted lips, tears filling your waterline and then slipping down your cheeks, mixing with the slight mascara you'd put on this morning and making your face a mess. yeonjun likes it too, the way he's so easily able to get you like this, just a few words from his lips and you're crying.

he can't help but tell you this with a mocking pout on his lips that turns into yet another smirk, chuckling when all you can do is whimper incoherently. yeonjun kisses you gentle enough to make up for his harsh words though, he's only trying to make you feel good, and he knows you like it when he talks down to you.

one hand still around your neck, the other moves from your hand to your waist, and he's only fucking into you harder when you whine out that you're close. his lips catch yours again when you gasp out his name, gummy walls fluttering around his dick as your whole body shakes from the force of your orgasm, yeonjun's fingertip rubbing at your clit making you convulse under him.

yeonjun bites back a little moan and lowers his lips to your ear again. "can i cum in you, baby? let me make you mine?"

you can't tell if he's just saying it in the heat of the moment, but you nod, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside you.

he bites his lip slightly, only losing control completely when you lick up the side of his neck and bite a splotchy hickey onto his neck. his warm cum fills you as he mumbles out a string of curses mixed with your name against your neck.

yeonjun practically collapses on you once he pulls out but lets himself take a second to marvel at how pretty you look right now, mascara leaking down your cheeks and neck, his cum and yours leaking from your swollen, abused cunt.

you let him wrap his arms around your form, cheek against his chest, both your bodies hot and sweaty, his bangs plastered to his forehead. there's a question on the tip of your tongue but he answers it for you, mumbling in your ear, "will you stay? for longer than just today?" yeonjun pauses slightly, then continues. "i'm not sure if i want you to be just one time. i know that this part of our relationship is new but we've been talking for so long and yeah, i don't want you to go back home and for this never to happen again."

you purse your lips, alcohol fogging up your brain and making you a little too sleepy to respond. "we'll talk tomorrow, hm? it's late and i had a long flight and i'm tired, jjunie..."

he nods slightly, running a hand through his hair, and presses a kiss to your forehead. "goodnight, yn."

"night night, yeonjun," you exhale.

you're almost half asleep when you hear him whisper, "the others'll be home soon, if they see us like this, i'm blaming you..."

#ada speaks :)#adas hard hours #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt smut #yeonjun smut #yeonjun hard thoughts #yeonjun hard hours #yeonjun fic #txt fic #txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #this yeonjun reminds me of yeonjun in one of my fics and i LOVE it #may add this to the list of things to write part 2's too #not my fav endings but i had to #its IMPORTANT

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fruitmins · 7 months

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Agust Dad—Six

➭ summary: Your a producer from another company that he happened to be collaborating with on his 2nd album D-2. At the release party— one drunk action leads to another, you do the worst thing you can do in the industry and change your fate forever.

➭genre: short series, pregnancy au, idol au, angst, dad au

➭warnings: time jump (don’t hate me for it), twitter, you kinda pee yourself at the end, panic attack/meltdown, angst, don’t worry there’s at least a little fluff in the beginning, fainting, cliffhanger-ish

note: the storm :)

Taglist: @welcometomyworld13 @tatyhend @jiminiesunicorn @littlestarstinyseven @baechugff @thelilbutifulthings @tearykth @familiarlikemymirror3 @coree730 @prajusstuff @wobblewobble822 @choisoorin @manuosorioh @0funsite0 @whipwhoops @bergandysam @aloverga @illnevertrustmyselfagain @silentreadersthings @butterymin @girl-nahh @linneasblog @cuntessaiii @nikkiordonez12 @chl0buggy @serendididy @llallaaa @ghostlyworld @roguesthetic @captainchrisstan @bxcndd @lukeys-giggle

3 MONTHS LATER

You shifted and turned in the mirror, studying the slight bump that phased through the expensive flowy red dress that Yoongi had convinced you to let him buy.

You weren’t all that surprised. Over the past months Yoongi had been buying the most ridiculous things for you without blinking an eye. Any weird food you wanted, Yoongi would have it in less than thirty minutes.

What you were surprised about was the main reason you wanted the beautiful dress in the first place. Jin had invited you to a party he and the rest of the boys were throwing a party In celebration of a successful Bang Bang Con.

Then he revealed he was going to propose to Harin who like Yoongi, you’d gotten close to over the months. When though you weren’t Yoongi’s girlfriend (even though it was starting to feel like you were) she still thought it would be nice for the two of you to be close.

It shouldn’t have surprised you that he invited you, but somehow it did. No matter how much time you spent with BTS, you couldn’t help but be insecure about how your connection with Yoongi happened. It weren’t proud of it in the slightest, even though Harin has reassured you many times they didn’t judge you.

But still, you had a frown on your face as you stared at yourself in the mirror. You didn’t want the new bump to be all that visible, and you couldn’t help but feel anxious and nervous.

You hear a small knock on the door before it cracks open slightly, revealing Yoongi who was already ready and in a nice black suit that matches his ridiculous long black hair.

Your heart pounds when you see him all dressed up, thinking back to the night long ago that had gotten you into this mess. You can’t help but feel a flutter in your heart, like when you two first met. The warm feeling that flowed in your blood whenever you saw him.

Unlike first time, the feelings were much stronger now. You tired to push away the fuzzy feeling whenever he looked at you these past few months. The way he had gradually opened up to you and cared for you. You chalked it up to just being hormonal, but a part of you had always liked him a bit more than you are supposed to. And it was only getting stronger the times he was away training and at BangBangCon. You felt ashamed how much relief washed over you when they were finished, just over the fact that he could spend time with you again.

You were starting to get stupid and selfish again. Just like that night where you stupid and selfishly gave into him for your own pleasure and enjoyment.

Seeing that you were fully clothed, he stepped more into the room, a small smile on his face as he did so.

You turn away from the mirror to face him fully, gesturing to your dress. “How do I look?” You let out a nervous chuckle, slightly scared of his answer.

He takes a minute to study you fully, looking from top to bottom before finally responding. "Pretty," Yoongi said quietly, standing in the doorway, a small smile on his face as he looks at you. "You look beautiful."

Your heart flutters as you stare at him. Despite everything that's happened, you can't help but feel excited to be here, with him, in this moment.

“You definitely have a pregnancy glow.” He praises again, this time with a little playful chuckle and you turn away from him, praying that you weren’t blushing. “Thanks.”

You mess with your hair once more before grabbing your high heels and sitting in the edge of the bed to put them on. Yoongi is quick to kneel down on his knee to take them from you.

“Can I?” He trails off softly even though he already took them, getting ready to put them on your foot before pausing for a moment. He tilts his head slightly before staring at you for a moment with his eyes wide. "Are you really planning on wearing those?" He says in realization.

You nod immediately, trying to take the shoes away from him. “They go with the dress.” You state in slight confusion. You weren’t that heavy yet.

"I don't think it's a good idea, Y/N." he says cautiously, the concern for your wellbeing evident in his tone but gentle as always.

“They’re the only shoes I have for the occasion. Well flats would work but I don’t have any good ones.” You mumble, mostly to yourself before looking at him with a slight pout while trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. Telling yourself for the millionth time that he was concerned for your baby and not you.

Yoongi can’t help but let out a small amused smile at your pout. "Y/N, I'll buy you the nicest flats you've ever seen, just don't wear those." He says, making a sharp gesture towards the heels he’s holding.

"You're going to be standing for almost the entire night, so wearing heels would be very uncomfortable, and besides, it's dangerous to wear heels when you're this far along in a pregnancy." Yoongi takes a slow breath, his concern for you showing more clearly than back when everything was first happening. Though he was never really hiding it from you.

“You’d buy flats, right now?” You ask, slightly surprised but suspicious. “I don’t want to make us late or have you buy more things for me.”

"Of course.“ he responds without hesitating, even rolling his eyes a little. “I’ll be right back.”

The moment he says this, Yoongi leaves the room and rushes out of the house, leaving you alone in the bedroom as you listen to the door slamming shut.

The moments you wait for him to return are painfully long, and you can hear your own heart beating in your ears. And just as you finish your thoughts, Yoongi walks through the door once again. You immediately look down at his hands, and see two bags in each, with the flats open. You sit up in disbelief. Yoongi really just came back with four new pairs of flats.

"Here they are." he says, handing you bag with a small smile. "I went to a nearby shop and told the shopkeeper to give you all the best ones. I hope they fit." he adds, his tone anxious as he waits for you to put them on.

"Oh my god." you say, shaking your head as you take each pair out. They're all the top design and incredibly stylish, and more importantly, incredibly comfortable looking. You couldn't have asked for a better selection.

Yoongi smiles as you continue to examine the shoes, your heart warmed by his gesture. You try on both on the pairs, both equally as soft and comfy as they looked.

“Thank you so much.” You say, still wide eyed as you picked the best color and design and started to walk around to get a feel. You couldn’t even express how grateful you were for him.

“Alright, let’s go.” You say, catching yourself before you can be overly emotional as the two of you rush out to his car and drive to Jin’s surprise proposal party.

The two of you pile into the car and drive off to the party. Yoongi turns to face you, his eyes filled with concern and worry. "We don't have to stay too late, alright?"

You nod your head, not too upset about it. As long as the two of you end up having a nice evening, you don't mind leaving early.

You arrive at the small spot a moments later. Yoongi does the honors of helping you out of the car as the two of you head inside of the small house that Jin rented.

The two of you walk in and look around the nicely decorated area. As you walk inside, you see that the party is underway. There are streamers hanging from the ceiling, and a table with snacks and drinks set up in the corner. There isn’t a lot of people there either, just BTS and some close family members on both sides.

Jin greets you both with a nervous smile, and you can feel yourself beginning to relax. This seems like it'll be a decent event, and not the tense affair that you were expecting. What helps is that it’s a private party, not a camera in sight and no reporters can see you.

“Yoongi! Y/N! Your here.” He says with a big smile despite being so nervous, giving you each a small hug. “Thank you for coming.”

��Of course Jin.” Yoongi says with a small, putting a hand on his shoulders and to try to calm his nerves. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Y/N, honey, you look great.” He says giving you one last night squeezes before leaving you to mingle around.

The rest of BTS come up to greet you and Yoongi as well, feeling slightly nervous when Yoongi leaves to get you and himself something to drink.

The party is lowkey, not upbeat and filled with people speaking on top of each other as everyone mingled.

You happen to spot Harin in the distance from the couch you sat on, so you walk up to greet her. She gasp happily when she sees you, giving you a big hug as the two of you chatted away.

Suddenly, someone touches their glass to get everyone’s attention. You both turn it see all of the members in a small circle. “To a successful BangBangCon. Even though it was online it was still nice to see all of ARMY.” Namjoon started and everyone hummed and nodded in agreement, going along with the facade.

All of the members do a small speech until Jin is the last one. Jin stood up and the lights turn off, leaving the room in darkness.

A few minutes of silence and fake murmuring, Jin's voice cuts through the silence as he now stood in front of his Harin who was next to you. "Harin, we've been through a lot in the past few months. We've been on opposite ends of it all, but one thing remains constant," he says, his voice shaking slightly. “My love for you.”

A faint glow cuts through the darkness as Jin bends down on one knee, holding out a small black box in his hand.

Harin takes a moment to process everything before covering her mouth with her hand.

Jin's eyes sparkle as he looks up at her. "Will you marry me?" he asks, his voice soft yet strong.

Harin is speechless, her eyes widening in shock and surprise. She takes a moment before nodding her head. Tears stream down her face. "Yes, I'll marry you."

The both of them explode into tears, and the room erupts into a joyful celebration. You clap along with everyone else in celebration, your eyes even watering a little as they cried and kissed.

The party after is filled with almost everyone beside you and Yoongi getting tipsy and having fun. Lights now flashing and music now blasting through some speakers.

A little while later you find Yoongi again, happily chatting and congratulating Jin with the rest of the members. You were getting tired and wanted to leave. You were getting a headache from the lights and loud music, and quite frankly your social battery has reached zero quickly after the propose.

You saw him, smiling and laughing with his slightly tipsy younger members and simply didn’t have the heart to interrupt him. You could put up with the party for another hour or two.

But as you walked away from them, Yoongi’s head suddenly turns and meets yours. He takes one look at your face and expression and knows it time leave, so as you walk out you see him excuse and say goodbye to his members before lightly jogging next to you.

“Hey, time to go?” He asked softly, still a small smile on his face from talking with the members.

“No, it’s fine.” You shake your head quickly, wanting him to have more fun. You didn’t want to be selfish once again.

“You look tired. Let’s go home. It’s getting late anyways.” He states nonchalantly before locking your arm and practically dragging you to the car.

He opens the door for you drive home in some comfortable silence, resting your eyes and feeling warm from the nice atmosphere.

The two of you get out of the car, and as soon as you step inside, you go straight to the bedroom. You take off your shoes and lay down in the comfy bed, covering yourself in the fresh blankets.

Moments later you are out like a light but only to wake up in the middle of the night to quickly use the restroom.

You groggily get up, checking your phone to see the time. It’s an hour past midnight and everything in the house is dark and cold.

Your eyes squint as you look at the bright screen, eyes lightly skimming over your notifications. Your eyes brown in confusion when you see a familiar coworker has texted you out of the blue.

‘Y/N, is this you?’

You get a sinking feeling in your stomach looking at the text, slowly opening up your phone to see the attachment with it.

Your face pales and your throat closes in fear when see a screenshot from a video of yourself at the party. Clearly pregnant and stood directly in frame next to Harin who was staring at Jin down on one knee.

Your blood runs cold when you see the screenshot. It's exactly as you guessed it would be: yourself standing next to Harin with a noticeable baby bump.

You freeze in your tracks as an overwhelming sense of panic washes over you. Your heart is soaring at a rapid rate, and you feel like you're going to throw up.

You don't know what to do. You don't know how to handle this situation. But you find your hands shakily downloading twitter again in a heartbeat.

The moment you do the first thing you see is the screenshot had been spreading around the wildfire. You can't believe your eyes when you see the screenshot on Twitter. It's viral, quickly making its way around the platform and receiving an overwhelming amount of attention from both the media and fans.

You feel your heart sinking in your chest as you see your body in the media spotlight in this way, even though it hasn't been confirmed that it's really you.

Sometime after the party, Jin had uploaded his proposal to happily and innocently show his fans, and people had started to notice a pregnant woman in the background.

#RedDress was trending.

WHO IS SHE? was trending.

Thousands of ARMY’s were connecting the dots, putting together that whoever the woman was is Yoongi’s ‘girlfriend’.

Jealous fans are picking apart off every inch of your body, calling you disgusting names all over again just like when the official statement was released. But now ten times worse. Crazy fans were trying to find out your official identity, hoping that it would lead them to Yoongi.

You start to have a breakdown, seeing just how exposed you were now. You were crying, barley even breathing as you felt a sting of pain in your stomach. You felt hot and cold at the same time as your mind got fuzzy and clouded with all types of worry.

Your eyelids start to get heavy, your ability to get out of bed to pee now gone as black dots started to appear.

You glance towards the door, desperately trying to call out to Yoongi who was peacefully asleep in the guest bedroom but you’re so panicked and out of control you can’t even speak.

You start to hyperventilate as the black spots get bigger and your body gives out, the last thing you remember being your head hitting the bed frame as you grew unconscious.

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buckttommy · 2 months

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ohhhh jack you opened pandora's juiciest box!!! could you please share your thoughts on buddie's emotional infidelity in canon? because it's A Thing that we don't ackowledge enough me thinks!!

it's like. no one will ever be eddie to buck. no one will ever be buck to eddie. no one. sorry. literally no one. it's not even that buddie only makes sense in a narrative sense, it's that their lives, their thoughts, their emotions are so fucking intertwined that to inflict them on someone else would be an act of emotional violence. tbh. it's like. i think about it all the time, right, all the moments when they're on a call and buck reaches for something eddie is already handing to him. you can't learn that kind of intimacy. you can't mimic that. they are so wrapped up in each other there is, quite literally, no other place for them to be but with each other.

season 4, ana says, "i know there hasn't been anyone since shannon" wrong. wrong, baby. your man put his boy best friend in his fucking will so he can raise his goddamn child if/when he dies. you're nothing. you're literally nothing. eddie could have been balls deep in her every single second of their relationship and she would still be nothing. i'm sick. ana comes to the fire station and buck sweeps in and hugs his fucking kid like he's actually his kid and eddie has a gay meltdown and buck notices because of course he does, buck gets him to open up, because of course he does, buck gets him to break up with his girlfriend. because of course he does. because all he has to say is "imagine if this was me" and eddie cannot conceive of hurting buck in any way so hey, guess what ana, you and me, we're over.

it's just like. they are in love. they're not in love but they're in love, they're building a life, they are raising a family in all the ways that matter and absolutely no one -- no one -- who comes into their lives is even going to hold a candle to the level of intimacy they already have. that's just it. they were in love when the tsunami happened and they were in love when eddie got shot and they were in love when buck kissed lucy and they were in love when buck asked taylor to move in with him and they were in love when buck broke down a fucking door to sit with him in his mess and every single thing buck and eddie do is shadowed by the fact that they are so desperately dangerously maddeningly in love with each other, playing pretend with other people. it's sickening. im i'll. i can't get enough of it.

#buddie + infidelity #jack answers mail

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hikarry · 4 months

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Aziraphale and Crowley are a mirror of one another.

Angel/Demon

Gentle/Hard

Trusting/Distrust

Book Smart/Street Smart

I could go on, but I want to focus on this: Rational/Emotional

Through both seasons, we can see a clear line between Aziraphale and Crowley

Aziraphale wanting to speak with Heaven before agreeing with Crowley's plan to stop Armageddon. Keeping the information about the Anti-Christ to himself. Helping Gabriel. Going back to Heaven. All those decisions were made on a rational basis. Aziraphale's own version of rational, surely, but rational nonetheless. It makes absolutely sense in his head, and those decisions are not based on emotions but the facts he has at the moment.

Crowley, on the other hand, has a tendency to lash out and let his emotions take the wheel when it comes to making decisions or in his life in general, really. His constant offers to run away together. His decision to give up on stopping Armageddon when Aziraphale supposedly died in the fire. His outburst when he refused to help Aziraphale with Gabriel. The kiss. All those were emotional responses.

While Aziraphale is more cold and calculated, Crowley is a bundle of emotions and a mess of feelings. Sure, sometimes Aziraphale is emotional (aka in the Apocalypse when he begs Crowley to come up with a solution or else-) and Crowley can be rational (aka telling Aziraphale that speaking to his superiors won't stop shit because the Almighty isn't speaking to anyone), but that's not their default.

This is yet another way they balance each other. Aziraphale keeps Crowley grounded, and Crowley gives Aziraphale some liberty to feel.

Hell, for example, when Armageddon is starting, Crowley is a bit too busy having a meltdown over the Bentley until Aziraphale snaps him out of it and brings him back to reason.

But this is also the reason behind most of their fights:

The proposal of the Arrangement.

The Holy Water situation in 1800s.

The bandstand.

The street in front of the bookshop.

The backroom.

The whole Metraton business.

In all those situations, we watch Aziraphale's rationality and Crowley's emotions clashing because, when it comes to important decisions, they don't speak the same language. They are in different wave lengths. And until they find the middle ground, they will never be able to communicate.

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #david tennant #michael sheen #anthony j crowley

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saezurusteve · 3 months

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Please help me understand, what do you think happened to Yashiro?How did he go from a domineering/dominant being to a being who allows himself to be dominated? Did Hirata destroy Yashiro or were barriers torn down by Doumeki? I think he's fragile, without sarcasm, he's not egocentric, he seems like another character. I'm rereading it again and I'm in chapter 23 where he literally rides Doumeki and says barbaric things. Now he can't even run away properly

At the end of chapter 23, you get to see Yashiro spectacularly meltdown in the shower at Doumeki's apartment.

Study that face because you will see it again.

From the very moment we meet Yashiro in chapter 1 (of Saezuru) he tells us that despite the guy we met in Don't Stay Gold, he's actually harbored feelings of love.

But Yashiro has felt for a very long time that he is far too twisted to have something like that for himself, so he hands Kuga to Kageyama as a test to see, just to see, what it would be like to see Kageyama in love and to imagine himself in that part.

Because Yashiro is so afraid of rejection that he can't get up the courage to confess, leaving any feelings Kageyama might have had to turn into pity.

So it's not like any of these "want to be wanted" feelings are new to Yashiro, but he never got the chance to experiment for himself to see how HE falls in love, what does it look like for him?

Enter Doumeki:

Doumeki is kind of a sub for Kageyama from high school, until he starts to say things to Yashiro like "I always thought you were beautiful" and outward signs of concern "aren't you cold" (naked on the floor of the bathroom giving me a blowjob) or "I thought I was going to lose you" (when you got shot and saw me crying.) Doumeki is able to look beyond the defensive Yashiro and express his feelings.

In the beginning of Chapter 2, Yashiro begins to get jealous of anyone who has Doumeki's attention. But he tries to curb his own behavior and cut Doumeki off, until he meets Doumeki's sister, Aoi. Yashiro becomes invested in Doumeki's life and happiness.

This is a regular thing for Yashiro. He is a really good guy to the people he cares about. He can be a total punk ass to people he wants to piss off.

I won't go into the repeated faces of jealousy... they look a lot like the one above when he turns as Doumeki starts to wake up. You can have fun looking those up (I'll give you a hint... he gives the same look to Kageyama's gf, to Aoi, and to Mama-san... haha let's not forget Kuga.)

When things get heated and Yashiro should put a stop to things, he gives Doumeki a pass. (He gave me a blowjob at the hospital... probably nothing...) Because these blatant shows of concern for Yashiro's well-being are a major turn-on for Yashiro.

So by the time we get to Doumeki's apartment, Yashiro is not only primed for love, but ready to accept the curse:

Yashiro realizes that he is out of his league. Doumeki is a heavy tank of love and Yashiro has no idea what to do next. He tells himself that no one can love him, and that Doumeki doesn't really mean it. But the curse has been cast.

Let's skip ahead 4 years, and they meet again. Yashiro is plagued with horrible dreams of being alone, and his body is rejecting everyone but the one he's dreaming about. When they see each other again it all comes back.

Now Yashiro has to deal with the fact that his body is responding to only to Doumeki, and we see him meltdown again.

And he confesses that he never had it together to start with. His feelings are a mess where Doumeki is concerned.

That brings us almost up to speed... however, you mentioned that you thought Yashiro has become fragile...

I think the proper word for Yashiro is vulnerable. And recognize that face? That's the meltdown face... however, Yashiro is hurt and he's showing his vulnerable side to Doumeki. He's beyond jealousy now, he is stamping his feet and throwing the tantrum he's bottled up for years.

Instead of running away, Yashiro is actually confronting Doumeki about his feelings. Doumeki may have not seen it a few chapters ago, but he certainly sees it now. It's all been a revelation that Yashiro needs to know that he's still cared for. He still needs to see Doumeki as that guy who gives a crap about whether or not Yashiro is comfortable.

All we need now is for Yashiro to see that Doumeki needs the reassurance that Yashiro will still accept him even if he leaves his side for a little while. And so that WE can have this kind of stuff every chapter.

#saezuru tori wa habatakanai #saezurusteve #yashiro and doumeki in love #anon asks #Yashiro and Doumeki adulting like pros

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viluvr-archived · 2 years

Note

Hello Hello!!! may I request placing butterfly clips on their hair w/ Leona, Vil, Rook, Cater, Malleus, and the Tweels? I hope this is alright! have a great day<3

PUTTING BUTTERFLY CLIPS ON THEIR HAIR .

Leona , Vil , Rook , Cater , Malleus , Tweels .

Gn!reader :]

( a/n — tyty! Have a great day too, sorry it took so long :<< this req is so cute T^T )

Part 1 — Part 2 .

LEONA !

When "Leona can I put butterfly clips on your hair! Pretty please..? PLEASE?" fell out of your mouth, he thinks about it real hard, why's he even thinking about it like it's a life or death situation? He asks himself.

He might look silly, oh but it'd feel good when you play with his hair.. maybe he'd indulge it just one time.

Please run your hands through his hair, comb it, massage his scalp/head, and re-braid the front braids of his hair. If he feels bold enough to ask that then he'd be responding with a snarky remark like "Hey, you wanted to do this, so it's only fair I get to enjoy it too y'know" and he smirks and grins smugly while saying that. (Watch out for his soft purrs while you do things to him/his hair.)

"Leona! 'M done, come see what I did to your hair!" Should he look at it? It only felt good when you braided, combed, his hair, etc.. but what does it look like?

"Ahh, yeah, thanks but.." there he got dragged to face the mirror while you hold onto his face lightly squeezing it for him to face it and not getaway. And, he thinks it looks... good..? Well, he supposes it's not that bad!

"You like it? Yeah?" You ask while watching him check himself out, looking and touching his hair, "Yeah, I like it. You wouldn't mind doing this.. more, won't you?" 'Course you don't but it's nice to tease him once in a while.

Growls at anyone who he sees or hears chuckling at him/his hair, those people who laugh, giggle, chuckle at him shouldn't try and hide it, he senses it anyways! So, no escape.

VIL !

Well.. maybe yes, maybe not that he'd agree, but you can tell he indulges you 95% of the time with the fact he'd allow you to play with his hair when he doesn't want or like anyone touching or playing with it, he doesn't want a ruined or messy hair after all.

"Hm, very well then. Go ahead, dear." So please, don't mess his hair up as much as possible! He trusts you the most 'and the best.

Well, it relieves his stress the moment your hands brush his hair.

"Hey, gentle now. Don't tug on my hair too much. Alright?" It's a meltdown because he says it with so much care and gentleness, give him butterfly kisses, please

"Vil, hey, look! Do you like it?" You grin excitedly at him, hoping he'd like it. He stares at the mirror, touching and admiring the clips, and the little styles you do to his hair. "Thank you, I appreciate it really. Best believe I won't take it off as a reward for doing and bring so good" and with that, he gives you a smooch on the cheek, he prefers to call it a peck anyway.

"Really? You like it! That makes me so happy, Vil." He admires the sight of you being happy and giddy, he holds your hand and thumbs it. "Why not I do the same to your hair? So then, we'd match." "I like the idea of that, Mr. Schoenheit."

ROOK !

He's thrilled! Go ahead, go ahead! Do anything, he's yours.

If you wanna do it then beware, he moves and giggles a lot out of excitement. (He's trying his best to behave!!) "Rooook.. how many times do I need to tell you, to stop moving so much" "Ma chérie, I apologize! I beg for you to not stop!" It's kinda... weird to see Rook without his hat, after all it's what's unique about him, the Pomefiore house warden.

"There! Finally.. check it out, Hunt!" You send him a wink, while he giggles excitedly. He won't take it off too, "Oh my.. it's amazing! Gorgeous! It'd be an honor to display a pretty thing at school, I'll leave my hat behind and wear these clips at school." Lo and behold the whole school's jaw-dropping with the sight of Rook not wearing his hat, and! He has butterfly clips on his hair, isn't that too childish for Pomefiore?

Don't worry, he views it very elegant. No need for Vil to take it away from him!

CATER !

Funny because you and Cater suggested the same idea at the exact same time, blurting it out at the same time.

"Babe... you are amazing! Great minds think alike after all" jokes on you he already bought the butterfly clips and the materials you'd need, and now he's already laying his head on your lap, taking out the small, loose ponytail between his hair.

"There, ya comfortable? Or should I lay differently?" "Mm, no need. C'mere let me do it already." He'd film it and post it that's for sure, (always with your permission ofc!)

He's very patient, making sure you take your time styling his hair and putting adorable, adorable butterfly clips on his hair! He always melts when you caress his face. He also tries his best to be himself whenever he's with you, you made him himself after all. You reassure him to take it slow and he's very appreciative of that.

"There! Done Cay, you look adorable! Mwah" kissing his cheek while you give him the hand mirror, wow, a kiss and he gets his hair done wonderfully by you. He's definitely doing yours next time and he's not going to take it off! He's showing it off even, he has the best partner in the world he says.

MALLEUS !

He was just laying on your lap, then you started fiddling with his hair.

He fell asleep, tho. He seemed half awake so you asked for permission. "Mal? You ok with me putting these cute butterfly clips on your hair, hm?" He just nods and hugs your waist, then went to dreamland.

Chuckling at his actions, you proceed to part his hair and brush it. His hair is so silky and smooth, it was like fine silk. "Mal, you there? I'm done" He woke up seeing you smiling at him gently, what a sight to see, he gently holds your face and caress it then proceeded to admire what you did.

They're adorable he thinks, but what's important is that you're happy about what you did and that's more than enough, if it makes you happier he'd wear it! He even puts some flowers on his hat and of course, it makes him happy to wear the clips, showing it off. No one dares laugh at him, no one laughs at your works and what you do.

He ends up wanting to sleep with them because he claims it's a memory/souvenir to keep. Lilia had to take it off him but couldn't, he ended up calling you to take care of your lover, he was pouting and you didn't like that do you had to promise you'd do his hair again, and what makes him happier? You had butterfly clips on your hair too so you're matching. Happy dragon noises, indeed.

TWEELS ! [ not poly. ]

JADE thinks it's fascinating, sure! He's agreeing, it's ok to try new things after all. Just make sure the aesthetic matches the octavinelle dorm and his uniform, or else Azul would not like it for formalities. He'd truly hate taking it off, he'd try to make Azul agree.

"It's ok dear, you can put clips on the long strand of my hair." Decorating his bangs is so fun, like butterflies and cute clips on them? Adorable.

"Thank you for agreeing, Jade! You look really adorable!" Adorable? That's a new one, he thinks. Floyd gets jelly and wants those clips too, so he had to buy Floyd those and... kinda style it on him.

FLOYD is giddy and excited, he looks like a lightstick. "Really, really, really, shrimpy?! You wanna do that? Okok! Sit, take your time, hehe!" He moves a lot like Rook, but please don't get mad at the poor eel, he's just excited :( he promises and tries not to move too much! Please don't stop

"Wooooahhh! This is me? My hair? It looks s'different! I like it, I like it!" This one's a stubborn one, Azul might not wanna try and ask him to take it off, or else he'd... "Why! Shrimpy made this and it's special. And it's not ugly!" "Floyd we never said it's ugly.." "OK! Then I won't take it off because it's pretty! That's final blah blah!" Anything for you AND HIM after all.

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xxnomadsxx · 2 months

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I can only imagine your Branch giving the most disturbing gifts to show he cares. Ex:

Floyd: Oh man, I always worried Velvet and Veneer are gonna come back at some point

Branch: *Man, I wanna make him feel better hmm*

Cue the next day:

Branch: Here Floyd, this should make you feel safer (Man is covered in BLOOD and holding an even bloodier box) 😊

Floyd (about to pass out): Oh thanks B… what is it??

Branch: Velvet and Veneers vocal cords 😁 (He genuinely believes this will make him feel better)

Floyd: Oh… thank you Branch (He doesn’t want to reject the gift since it is one of the only occasions Branch has shown any of the brother’s affection)

His gifts only get worst from there. The brothers one time mention what happened to the Bergen that ate Grandma??? Branch puts Chef’s skeleton up in display for them to see that there’s nothing to worry about and that she’s been avenged. Meanwhile , BroZone: 🧍🧍🧍🧍

Poppy mentions that Creek betrayed the entire Troll kingdom??? Oh yeah, he tells the hilarious story about the time he was roasted alive and eaten by the village and even offers Poppy a tuff of his hair as proof.

He associates threats being eliminated as comforting and so he believes proof of that are the best gifts, he has good intentions but wtf he’s gotta work on better love languages.

anyways yeah BroZone loses their shit every time this happens but don’t have the heart to tell Branch to stop since it’s one of his main ways to show he cares about them and they’ll take anything at this point.

Honestly no one in the village is good at getting appropriate gifts ESPECIALLY Branch (he’s been living with the feral trolls(?) for years and their love language is violence) so you’re gonna have to forgive them on their very gruesome gifts.

All these situations are basically canon now because the idea is just so funny to me that Branch just pulled out all these corpse parts just to be like “don’t worry you’re safe😁”. Every time he does this his brother are just going through every emotion. It’s sweet that he did the gesture for them but also terrifying when you actually think about it (when he’s left the room, at least two of them puked and Floyd passed out four times) When Floyd is given the vocal cords as a gift the only thing keeping him conscious is the adoration that his baby brother got him a gift, but once Branch left the room, he immediately put the box in the closet and proceeded to puke on the floor. (Originally Branch got the vocal cords after he found out velvet and veneer took Floyd, but I find the idea of him going back for round two just so he can get a trophy for Floyd to tell him he was “safe” even better)

When he showed the skeleton to the brothers they were just too shocked to actually understand what was happening and kind of just went numb for a few minutes, all they could do was force themselves to focus on how happy Branch was so they wouldn’t have a meltdown.(when they later registered what they saw they just cried) When Poppy brought up how angry she is at Creek and how mad she is that he up and left again instead of staying to face his problems!! Branch laughed and said “OH, don’t worry we handled it😁” and he pulled out a tuff of Creeks hair, and hilariously explained the “funny story” of Creeks demise.

Everyone at this point just stops talking about people they don’t like out of fear that Branch Is just gonna come out with their body at any second. They like the gestures of the gift. It’s just the fact that they’re basically just corpse parts in a box that is handed to them with a smile 😊 saying, “I hope you like it” (he eventually stops when explained how messed up it is)

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almacambiondaughterofsaleos · 9 months

Text

You Know Now It Makes Sense Stolas’ Character Evolved Into What It Is

youtube

Seriously, when I found this tidbit it makes sense why Stolas evolved from being treated like an actual demon lord rather than the sad woobie he is now. I think she put some of herself in him because she tries to see herself as one of those not so bad elitists who have little care for the poor but are able to interact with them on some level. But yeah, with the fact that she comes from privilege it makes sense she’s having this tantrums because despite her being a sjw she really is someone who hasn’t had anyone say no to her and not to mention it makes sense now why celebrities are coming to her project because she’s getting her rich relatives to help her.

This isn’t a case of a girl of humble origins rising through the industry this a case of nepotism and she can’t handle the fact that she isn’t being praised and isn’t okay with being said “no”. She has had everything handed to her and can’t handle the pressures that someone is pointing out her flaws. She has been coddled too long that it has caused to become such a brat. As a result, when the time comes for the big meltdown it will probably be when the big mess in story comes and everyone just gives up on her. But even then she still refuse to realize that she needs to stop acting like a primma dona and improve herself. Because someone who has been sheltered that long it’s hard to get out of your comfort zone.

In it you see the same thing with Stolas, because he comes from a place of comfort and still is being treated like he hasn’t done anything wrong even though it negatively effects his daughter. While Stella can be written as irredeemable and abusive, I think trying too hard to make her one note made it more apparent it was just to make Stolas more sympathetic rather than make Stella any sort of compelling character. She’s just a tool to make Stolas be even more justified in finding love with Blitzo even though it’s toxic itself. If she had made him remain where he was in the pilot then we could see him more of a villainous figure rather than a poor sad boy whose actions are always excused. The same thing with Vivzie and her fanbase where everything is excused because she’s a queer woman and not thinking about how others are speaking out against her. They just see a vision of her that she wants to present just like Stolas when in reality both are just awful people trying to look for an excuse to be the victim.

#anti-vivziepop #vivziepop #vivziepop criticism #vivziepop critical #vivziepop critique #helluva boss #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critique #helluva boss critical

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angelofthenight · 10 months

Note

hey listen yk how Yan polite reader *USE* to be together with reader right! right what if reader started dating another person

(new follower also I only have crumbs of this guy

Purge Leader x Reader: Yan!Headcanons Pt.2

Warnings: Yandere, Dark themes, Paranoia, Stalking/Spying, Jealousy/Possessiveness, Emotional cruelty, Murder/Gore, Non-Con, Kidnapping, The Purge being its own warning

Word Count: 1.9k

( BRO SORRY THIS TOOK LIKE YEARS???😭😭 )

Part 1

Requested: @narcozmx-blog @iskamr

♡ You genuinely didn’t expect to fall in love again after everything you’ve been through

♡ You thought your emotions were far too distracted and invested in fear to ever feel feelings like that ever again, especially since last time you indulged in attraction it cost lives

♡ But then someone just came around at the right place and right time while you were at your lowest and told you all the things you wanted to hear

♡ They were so selflessly honest. You didn’t have to read in between the lines, there was no guessing game about what they really meant, and no mind games. All things you had to suffer through in your past relationship with him

♡ You didn’t want to put their life in danger just because of your selfishness. You even warned them off your predicament with the purge after their pursuing flirting never seemed to falter

♡ They didn’t care. In fact, they said they would dedicate their life to protecting you if you’d have them and let them be yours and let yourself be theirs

♡ So for multiple months, you felt true happiness again and peaceful bliss. They made you feel safe and secure and you never looked over your shoulder when you were in their presence. In fact, sometimes it felt like your life was normal and nothing bad ever happened to you. As if you didn’t spend every night thrashing and whimpering in your sleep. You forgot how cruel the world really was when staring into their eyes, angel orbs staring right back at you

♡ They told you that you both would save up money to move to a country where the purge doesn’t occur at all. Any country you wanted

♡ That proposal made you so happy, beaming over the edge with joy and sentimental tears

♡ But as Purge Day grew closer and closer, a deep pit slowly began to rot in your stomach, pinching your insides every once in awhile. And when the date was just a month away it grew clear to you and your lover that you did not have enough money to run away just yet. Enough for the plane and a hotel for a couple days. But not enough to make a safe start in a brand new country

♡ You had to stay in America for Purge night. You had to survive one last purge

♡ Your lover had never seen you as such a mess of a person before as you became obsessed with the countdown to the dreadful night. You had so many panic attacks, mental breakdowns, hyperventilating meltdowns, and sobbing sessions

♡ They had told you of many sanctuaries you could hide, wealthy families who were generous enough to offer safety in their homes, bomb shelters, places no one would think to hide in

♡ They didn’t understand that you’ve hidden in those places before. And he found you every single time. No matter what building you hide in, no matter what state you ran to, he would find you

♡ They reminded you that all you had to do was survive for only twelve hours

♡ Why didn’t they understand how much can happen in twelve hours? How much mental pain and irreversible trauma you’ve been forced to endure every single purge

♡ They tried to comfort you by mentioning that you’ve survived every purge so far and you are still a free individual

♡ They didn’t understand that it’s not about you surviving, it’s about whoever is standing in his way surviving. You wanted to break up right there and then to spare their life, but they refused to leave your side

♡ All you had to do was make it through one purge night then you can run away across the ocean

♡ You whore. You bitch. What the hell did you think you were doing?

♡ You really thought you could be with some other person and he wouldn’t know?

♡ You had to know he was watching you. You were just trying to piss him off. You’re like a child rebelling. That had to be the answer. Why else would you lower your standards, and yourself, to the level of dating some lowlife nobody

♡ You were his. His only and his forever

♡ Outside of the Purge, he was always watching you. Watching you go about your everyday life. Stalking you. Spying on you. Following you

♡ He used to approach you many times, just to mess with you and mentally antagonize you, knowing you couldn’t do anything about it other than running away. As if that did anything. Even some of his purge friends, ones you’ve grown familiar with on Purge night through the years, would wave ‘hi’ to you in public. He knew it drove you mad, and he loved that

♡ He loved how sensitive and reactive his toy was. He loved his fragile little plaything

♡ But when he sees you with some walking piece of shit, his anger boils underneath his skin so hot he wants to claw his own skin off

♡ He was most furious at the observations of little quirks you also did when you were officially his

♡ Like rubbing your fingers over their knuckles, always pulling them by their neck to get closer during make outs, needing to take a bite out of their food first before digging into yours claiming it was to make sure theirs wasn’t poisoned, softly bumping your nose against theirs before you kissed them

♡ You did all of that stuff with him. And now you were repeating all your little quirks for them

♡ They didn’t deserve you. No one on the face of the planet, both dead and alive, did. He was the only one for you

♡ He was going to make you realize that. No matter what. And he didn’t care how many lives he had to brutally slaughter or casually destroy to do it

♡ But just like with your old best friends and everyone else who stood in his way, he had to wait till Purge night to butcher that scum

♡ He daydreamed about how he would do it. He loved when he axed your friends but he thought this specific person deserved a special death. He fantasized about killing them in front of you, imagining all the different ways he could do it. All those thoughts made him smile to himself

♡ He fantasized chopping off their limbs one by one so they would die slowly, drilling out their eyes, slamming a chainsaw right down their head, stabbing every inch of their skin so their corpse would be unrecognizable, gutting them open in front of you. All of this as you would cry rivers from your eyes, begging him to stop

♡ And once the execution was carried out, he would immediately go down on you right on that floor, right next to their body

♡ He was coming for you. Him and all of his friends

♡ Even from the far corner in the small kiln room of the abandoned middle school your lover had found, you still heard the distant, almost muffled, sounds of their laughter

♡ How did they find you? How did he find you?

♡ Your courageous lover held their gun tightly in their hands, having it concentratedly aimed at the locked and barricaded door. You hugged their arm as your eyes never once left the door, your heart pounding so loud and heavy you feared it would give away your location

♡ What two hours felt like two minutes, they were closer than ever. You heard them roam the art room just outside your door as they giggled to each other, none of them bothered being quiet

♡ Suddenly they were slamming a battering ram against the door, two swings broke the lock and four more swings tumbled your barricade down. You fearfully and shakingly whispered your lovers name repeatedly in their ear, needing to know they were getting ready to shoot even though they’ve never killed anyone before

♡ The barricade had fallen and the door opened without anything else in the way. Your lover fired five bullets as soon as they saw someone in the doorframe. You witnessed the first two people in line fall backwards. When more people stepped in, your lover’s shooting never stopped

♡ Your heart coldly stopped at the haunting sound of the clicking of the gun. It was empty

♡ Your fate had been sealed into doom

♡ Your lips quivered uncontrollably as your masked ex boyfriend suavely stepped into the room, carelessly stepping over his fallen friends. He slid off his mask to reveal his malicious smile and cocky gaze. “Smart of me to let them go first.” He said with a humored snicker. It made you nauseated

♡ “Thank you for keeping them warm for me, but I’ll take it from here.” He said as he positioned his axe in both hands, his cheshire cat smile widening down at the two of you. The very same axe he used on your highschool best friends, the very same axe that started it all. How fitting it would be the one to end it

♡ It all happened so fast, your lover bolting up to try to wrestle the axe of his hands, and then you heard a sickening sound of a swing and a slush

♡ You were paralyzed from your spot on the ground, your mouth only parted but shaking as if you’ve been splashed with freezing water. Your eyes wide open as if you had no eyelids, your waterlines overflowing like pitchers, never ceasing the ongoing streams of tears down your cheeks. Your fingers were clutching onto the hair closest to your scalp

♡ You were frozen in absolute terror and traumatizing grief. Watching him hack the one you were going to run away with apart from their stomach, crimson blood and entrails spilling out like cutting open an egg sack

♡ He chopped away until their torso was mutilated and their body was now in two. He took heaving breaths as he ran a hand through his hair to smooth out the locks that fell in his face

♡ He turned to you with that Cheshire grin and eyes that were the embodiment of a danger sign, fresh beads of blood vaguely dripping down his long face. His expensive clothes were stained with splatters of blood. Their blood

“Happy Purge, my dear.”

♡ And then he intended to do exactly what he had been fantasizing about for the past months. To fuck you right on that ground, right next to your bloodily mangled ex lover

♡ And that’s exactly what he did. Unbuckling his pants as he stalked toward you with strides and a taunting smile. You whimpered with terribly shaky sobs as you tried to scramble away backwards while still on the ground

♡ He grabbed your ankle and tugged you closer to him, lunging down at you to forcibly pry open your thighs and force his arousal into you

♡ After the deed was done and he buckled his pants back up, he hurdled your torso up to make your red puffy, exhausted eyes look into his excitedly dilated ones

“Our games have been much fun, but I think it’s now time for you to come home.”

#the purge x reader #the purge #reader insert #the purge 2013 #purge #purge 2013 #polite stranger x reader #polite stranger #polite leader x reader #polite leader #purge leader x reader #purge leader #yandere #yandere x reader #purge x reader #horror #slasher x reader #slasher #rhys wakefield

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ghosttotheparty · 5 months

Text

a mess of holy things 13 also on ao3 // prev // next cw: brief meltdown; subdrop/panic attack during sex; death of guardian (not wayne don’t worry); grief; mentions of child abuse & childhood trauma

“No, I’m just saying you’re turning into a slut,” Robin says lightly, her voice garbled from the gummy bear between her teeth as she tears its head off. She’s laying on her bed with her legs up against the wall, her hair spread around her head.

Steve rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, I know.”

“How many times have you had sex now?” she asks, rolling her head to look at him, nibbling at the body of the gummy bear now. He shrugs.

“I don’t know. A few.”

She raises her eyebrows.

He raises his back.

“Is it good?” Robin asks lightly, reaching back to the bag of gummy bears that’s resting on her belly. “You’re not getting bored of it?”

Steve scoffs, his head falling back against the wall.

“God, no. Don’t think I could get bored of it.”

She hums for a moment, looking at the ceiling.

“Maybe the guy I was with was just really bad,” she says thoughtfully, and Steve lets out a laugh. “Because it was real boring.”

“Have you considered having sex with a woman?” Steve questions sarcastically.

“Oh, yes, I have,” she says. Steve giggles, reaching over to take some gummy bears. “I just need a woman that also wants to have sex with me.”

“Hm.”

They’re quiet for a moment, and Steve thinks. He doesn’t know very many women.

“Is Nancy dating Jonathan?” he wonders aloud abruptly. “Or like…”

“Honestly, I have no idea,” Robin says. “I keep thinking she’s dating Jonathan, but then Argyle will come over and kiss her to say hi, and then Nancy wears one of Jonathan’s shirts but she’s got Argyle hair ties around her wrist… I don’t know.”

“You don’t wanna just ask?”

“Eh.” She shrugs. “Not really a big deal. They’re all happy, you know?”

Steve hums and looks at the ceiling again. He thinks some more. Maybe Chrissy is single.

They’d like each other, he thinks. They’re both silly, funny in their own ways, and they don’t really match exactly, Robin’s rough flannels and mismatched socks and choppy hair that she cut with scissors in her own bathroom compared to Chrissy’s frilly blouses and manicured nails and pink lipstick. But Steve has a feeling they’d like each other.

“Do your parents know about you?” he asks after a moment. She’s quiet.

“Yeah.”

He looks at her. She isn’t eating the gummy bears anymore, but she’s holding one in her fingers, squeezing and squishing it, brushing it against her lips absently.

“How did that go?” he asks quietly.

She sighs heavily, clearing her throat.

“Uh…” Another exhale. “I don’t know. I just told them at dinner one night. Kinda randomly, I just… couldn’t keep it hidden anymore.”

“What did they say?”

Robin looks at the ceiling blankly.

“‘…Don’t tell Grandma.’”

Steve blinks, waiting for her to continue, but she just lifts the gummy bear to her mouth and tears its head off with her teeth.

“That’s it?”

“Mhmm.” She takes another breath. “We don’t talk about it. It just kinda hangs out with us, I guess.”

He looks across the room and thinks some more. About what it might be like if his parents knew. If the fact just dangled around their heads, unaddressed, ignored. If they could do that, just ignore what they would surely despise.

“Are you gonna tell your parents?” Robin asks softly, like she can read his fucking mind. He scoffs.

“I don’t know,” he mutters. “Don’t know if it’s worth it.”

She looks at him, lifting her chin to see him.

“They won’t understand,” he says quietly. “They won’t get it.”

She sits up. Swings her legs around to rest across his lap, letting the gummy bears fall to the side. She’s looking at him curiously, silently.

Steve sighs, letting his head fall to the wall.

“…They raised me to be God-fearing,” he says quietly. “And… pure. They raised me so, like, intentionally… good. And if I tell them, I…” Steve scoffs, laughing humourlessly. “‘Hey, by the way, I’m an atheist and I like it when my metalhead boyfriend shoves his cock up my ass and puts his fingers down my throat.’”

Robin lets out a laugh, and he half-smiles.

“They don’t have to know all of that.”

“That’s all they will know, though,” he says weakly, his smile falling. She looks at him in confusion, furrowing her eyebrows, frowning. He sighs.

“They view homosexuality as… disgusting,” he says after a moment. “It’s just sexual to them. It’s just sin on sin.”

His fingers twist together, and then he reaches for the cross around his neck, lifting it to touch his lips absently.

“If I say I have a boyfriend…” He pauses, his voice weak and soft. “They won’t think about us holding hands or teasing each other or being sweet with each other. They won’t think about…” He cuts off, his throat tightening. “About how he wipes my tears away like he’s scared he’ll break me. Or the way he pulls me closer even when he’s, like, fully asleep. Or the way he cooks for me when I mention I haven’t eaten, or the way he kisses my temples when I have a headache.”

He looks at the ceiling, blinking tears back rapidly when his eyes sting. Robin reaches and holds his forearm.

“They’ll think about us sinning,” he says weakly. “They’ll think about— about him corrupting me, or manipulating me, and— and it’s bullshit, because he hasn’t. He’s— He’s so great.”

“He sounds really great,” Robin says, and her voice sounds thick now, and he hates this, this bullshit that unites the two of them.

“They’ll never see how great he is,” Steve says heavily. Robin’s hand is warm on his arm. “They’ll never get it. They’ll take one look at him and do the fucking Sign of the Cross. I don’t…”

He sighs again, reaching over to take her hand, twisting their fingers together.

“If I tell them… I don’t know what they’ll do. But I think… I don’t know. If the love they have for me is worth keeping. You know?”

She nods. Sighs. Squeezes his arm.

“It sucks,” he says softly, whispering. “Knowing your parents don’t love you the way you want.”

He glances at her when he hears a sniffle, and there’s a tear falling down her cheek. He wipes it away, but she doesn’t seem to notice, her eyes downcast and glassy.

“It sucks,” she says, her voice breaking a little bit. “My own parents don’t love me. Don’t know who can.”

It sends a shard of glass through Steve’s chest. That Robin fucking Buckley can’t see how loveable she is, how precious. How amazing and perfect, and…

“I can,” Steve says quietly.

She looks at him, her eyes shining, gleaming, her lips pursed like she’s trying to stop them from quivering.

“…Really?”

He nods, tilting his head at her.

“You’re my best friend,” he says softly. “You’re so cool.”

She scoffs, sniffling, and her hand tightens on his, squeezing his fingers. Her eyes close, and another tear falls down her cheek, and then Steve’s eyes are burning, and he tugs her closer by her hand.

Their arms wrap around each other, and Steve squeezes his eyes shut, burying his face in her neck. Her shoulders shake when she sobs quietly, and he runs a hand down her back, over the wrinkles in her sweater.

And he feels kind of like he did when Eddie first started being sweet on him, touching him lightly, calling him pet names. It’s different with Robin, of course. Still warm. Familiar. Entirely platonic but somehow more.

They stay there together, arms around each other, legs tangled, as they talk. Robin tells him about every girl she’s ever had a crush on. Steve runs his hand through her hair until it’s untangled as he listens, feeling the way her jaw shifts as she talks and chews the gummy bears. The sun sets outside, the sky dimming, and neither of them moves except to flick on the lamp on Robin’s bedside.

It’s warm here. Safe. Steve lets himself exist quietly with Robin, lets himself become sleepy and giggly and a little bit childish, because she’s doing the same, wrapped in a blanket and rocking back and forth as they laugh about nothing. He thinks that even if their parents can’t love them properly, maybe it doesn’t really matter at the moment. It doesn’t really matter if they have each other.

─────────────────

Steve wakes up before the sun rises.

It’s Saturday. Eddie had been working at the Hideout, but he’s in bed now, hair damp from his shower, eyes closed peacefully. Steve looks at him in the dark, rolling onto his side to face him.

He hadn’t woken up when Eddie came back after work. Eddie must have been as quiet as possible, taking off his jacket and setting his keys down, getting fresh clothes and taking a shower, all while Steve slept peacefully in bed. He isn’t even touching Steve right now. There’s a space between them, a chasm that makes Steve ache.

He pauses, looking at Eddie. At the fan of his eyelashes across his pale cheeks, at the metal studs in his skin. At his cheek that’s squished against his hand, tucked between his face and his pillow. At the strands of hair on his skin.

“Eddie,” Steve whispers softly, hesitantly. He doesn’t expect a response, but Eddie’s eyes flutter open slowly after a moment, and he looks at Steve blearily, tiredly, his eyes not quite all the way open.

“Hm?” Eddie shifts, closing his eyes for a moment before he blinks them open again. “You okay?”

“Mhmm.” Steve gazes at him. “Missed you.”

Eddie smiles sleepily, humming, lifting his chin a little bit, and Steve moves closer, close enough that their noses nudge together. Eddie exhales slowly, and Steve thinks for a moment that he’s fallen back asleep, but his arm moves, sliding from between them to wrap around Steve’s waist. His hand presses into the small of his back, and he tugs him closer.

Steve kisses him, smiling, tucking his hands between them, shrinking against Eddie’s body as their lips part. Eddie hums again, fingers spreading over Steve’s back.

“Sweet baby,” Eddie murmurs when they separate, his lips brushing Steve’s. Steve smiles again, his cheeks flushing with warmth. He sighs, nuzzling into Eddie’s throat as Eddie rubs his back once more.

He could whisper it right now. Right here. Lips pressed to Eddie’s tattooed skin, Eddie’s heartbeat against his hands.

He doesn’t say anything.

─────────────────

Steve sits on the sofa while Eddie finishes putting away the groceries.

He’d cried in the grocery store. He doesn’t know why.

His cheeks are still tacky with tears, and he feels fucking exhausted for no reason at all. All he’s done today is go with Eddie to the grocery store, and he’d managed to ignore the way the overhead lights buzzed and made his head ache, the way the squeaky wheels of other peoples’ carts scratched at the inside of his skull. Until someone passing bumped into him, their shoulders knocking together, and he just burst into tears like a child.

Eddie almost dropped their basket, setting it down and quickly, gently, pulling Steve aside, his voice hushed as he asked what was wrong, what happened, but Steve didn’t have an answer. Nothing happened. Nothing was wrong. He was just crying.

Eddie gave him the keys to wait in the van while he finished up shopping, and Steve took them quietly. He’s been quiet since. Stared out the window in the car as Eddie drove, only tearing his glassy eyes away from the world going by when Eddie’s hand landed on his thigh gently, squeezing and holding him.

Steve squeezes his eyes shut as they start to sting again, his head falling to the back of the sofa. He’s tucked into himself, arms crossed over his belly, knees drawn up, and he listens to Eddie in the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets, balling up plastic bags and stuffing them into a drawer.

It goes quiet after a few minutes. And then the couch shifts as Eddie sits next to Steve carefully.

“Hey, baby.”

Steve opens his eyes and looks at him, rolling his head, before he lifts his head.

“Hi,” he says softly, whispering.

“What’s goin’ on?” Eddie asks gently, leaning against the back of the sofa. Steve looks away, across the room, shrugging. “Did something happen?”

“No,” Steve chokes, eyes watering again. “I just…” He shrugs, sniffling. “Feel like shit today. I don’t know.”

“What do you need?” Eddie asks softly.

Steve is quiet, shrugging again, and Eddie just waits for him.

“…Hold me.”

Eddie moves without hesitation, wrapping his arms around him tightly, pulling him close and running his hand over his head carefully. Steve falls against him, squeezing his eyes shut again. His breath shudders. Eddie hushes him gently.

“Breathe for me,” he whispers softly. “Nice and slow, baby, you got it.”

Steve takes a deep breath, reaching to cling to Eddie’s shirt, and Eddie’s arms tighten around him, his hands pressing to him firmly before one of them slides into his hair and tugs.

Steve sags against Eddie, exhaling sharply.

“Harder.”

Eddie’s fingers twist into his hair and pull so it hurts. Steve exhales again.

“There you go,” Eddie murmurs. “That’s it, baby.”

Steve whines weakly, face burning as he buries his face in Eddie’s neck, but Eddie just holds him. Pulls his hair. Rubs his back.

“Just want you to touch me,” Steve says when he can speak again, whispering.

“You wanna get off?”

Steve pauses. And then shakes his head.

“Just want your hands on me.”

“C’mere.”

He pulls Steve closer, shifting to sit sideways on the sofa, legs outstretched, and Steve lets him manhandle him gently, lets him pull him so he’s laying on his chest, their legs entwined.

“There we go,” Eddie murmurs. His hands run over Steve’s back gently, tracing his spine. “Good?”

Steve hums, nuzzling into his neck, hands tucked against his chest.

“Harder,” he says softly.

Eddie’s hands press more firmly, pushing Steve against him, and Steve bites his lips to stifle a groan.

“Let it out,” Eddie murmurs. “‘S okay.”

Steve whimpers weakly, pressing closer as Eddie’s hands squeeze his hips firmly. It hurts a little, but Steve likes it. It makes his mind go a little fuzzy, makes whatever is squeezing his chest so tight a little looser. He hums.

“That’s okay?” Eddie checks after a moment, his hands loosening. Steve nods, reaching back to find Eddie’s hand blindly, and he leads it down to his ass, pressing firmly. “Right here?”

Steve nods again.

“Please.”

Eddie kisses the side of his head, and his hands are strong as they press into Steve’s flesh through the fabric of his pants. Squeezing and pushing and gripping like he’s massaging his ass and his thighs, and Steve melts against him, brows furrowed as he focuses on the feeling of Eddie’s fingers on him. He presses his hand to Eddie’s chest and then slides it up to his neck, pressing against his pulse.

“Feel good?” Eddie asks softly. Steve nods.

“‘S, like… grounding,” he mumbles, his hand falling lax on Eddie’s neck loosely. “Like it.”

Eddie hums quietly, his voice rumbling above Steve’s head.

“Bet you’re having fun,” Steve mumbles after a moment, and Eddie scoffs, a sound that makes Steve smile.

“I definitely am.”

His hands squeezes again, and then one of them lifts and taps Steve’s ass lightly, absently, but Steve fucking lights up inside. He hums, his back arching.

“Yeah?” Eddie says, sounding a little surprised.

“Mm. Yeah. Please.”

Eddie laughs softly, doing it again.

“You want me to spank you, baby?”

Steve nods desperately, back arching again.

“Please.”

Eddie kisses his head again, his fingers tightening on his ass, squeezing hard.

“You’re so sweet.”

Steve nods absently, letting out a weak yelp when Eddie’s hand lands on his ass abruptly, hard.

“Color?”

“Green. Again. Please.”

“I got you, baby.”

He does it again. And then again. Alternating hands, rubbing and soothing in between slaps, and they’re both hard, but Steve doesn’t think it really matters. He feels like he might fucking fall asleep here, despite Eddie’s hands forcing feeling into him, despite the way particularly hard hits jostle him.

“Okay?” Eddie asks after a few minutes, hands rubbing over where Steve’s ass is blooming with warmth.

“Please don’t stop,” Steve mumbles weakly, sleepily. “Feels so good.”

Eddie’s hands squeeze tightly. And then one retreats before it slides under Steve’s pants, pressing to his bare skin. Steve whines, nodding before Eddie can ask.

Eddie pushes his pants down carefully, smoothing his hands over Steve’s ass.

“Color,” he says softly, whispering.

“Green.”

“‘S gonna hurt more without fabric in the way.”

“I know,” Steve mumbles. “‘S okay, I want it.”

“Tell me why first.”

Steve exhales sharply, swallowing the lump that’s formed in his throat, and he takes a slow breath.

“Just…” He pauses, pressing his cheek to Eddie’s shoulder, gazing at the bat’s wing around his neck. “Wanna feel it.”

“Why?” Eddie whispers.

“Need it,” Steve says, almost whining. “Need to feel it. When we were in the— the grocery store, there was too much,” he says, his voice softening. “The lights, and the noises, and my— my jacket, and the guy bumping into me, it was just… too much. When it hurts, just— just a little, I can feel it. ‘N I don’t have to feel anything else.”

“Baby,” Eddie breathes.

His hand lands on Steve’s ass with a sharp slap, and Steve jumps with a startled Oh!

Eddie’s hand smooths over the skin gently, squeezing and soothing, and Steve nods, breathless.

The skin of his ass feels hot when Eddie finally stops, rubbing his hips and sliding a hand under his shirt to press into the small of his back. Steve is shaking a little bit, breathing hard into Eddie’s neck, fists clenched in the fabric of his shirt.

“Okay?”

Steve nods, letting out a weak whine.

“Thank you,” he says breathlessly. Eddie turns his head to kiss his temple, humming softly.

“Of course, baby,” he whispers. “You know I’d give you anything.”

Steve nods again, smiling.

Eddie starts to pull Steve’s pants back up, but the fabric scrapes over his no doubt reddened skin, and Steve hisses, wincing. Eddie lets out a thoughtful noise before he holds Steve’s waist, pushing him to the side carefully.

“Stay here a moment,” he says, shifting to get up so Steve can lay on his front on the sofa. Steve groans, reaching for him half-heartedly as he stands, and Eddie laughs lightly, catching his hand and bending down to press a kiss to his knuckles.

He comes back with a bottle of lotion, and he sits on the edge of the sofa next to Steve’s legs. Steve closes his eyes and sighs as he listens to the click of the bottle before Eddie's hand, cold with lotion, smooths over the hot skin. Steve’s breath catches in his throat, and he hums.

“So beautiful,” Eddie murmurs, leaning to press a gentle kiss to his ass. “My perfect boy.”

He pulls Steve’s pants up carefully, slowly, tugging them so they don’t slide over his skin, and he smooths out the waistband of his underwear by tucking his fingers under it and running them along the elastic.

“Maybe we need to get you some silky panties so it doesn’t hurt.”

Steve giggles into the sofa, cheeks warm.

“Could be cute.”

“It would be very cute,” Eddie says lightly. He smooths his hand over Steve’s ass gently, tenderly. “You feel okay?”

“Mhmm.” Steve sighs. “C’mere.”

Eddie moves back onto the sofa and Steve shifts to give him space, settling with his head on Eddie’s chest. Eddie runs his hands through his hair and then over his back, more gently than before.

“Wanna stay here for a little while?” Eddie asks softly. “And then I can go start lunch?”

Steve nods, sighing.

“Yes please.”

Eddie kisses the top of his head, and Steve suppresses a smile, sliding a hand down to slip it under the hem of Eddie’s shirt. Eddie hisses a little when his cold fingertips find his skin, and Steve snickers.

“Sorry.”

“I don’t think you are.”

“Mm.”

Eddie plays with his hair. He breathes.

Steve likes it when he breathes. Which is probably the most insane thing he’s ever thought to himself, but it’s true. It’s almost reassuring to hear Eddie’s breath, to feel the rise and fall of his chest. Steve wishes he could listen to it all the time, wishes it could play on repeat in the back of his mind. He wishes it was possible to get a sound tattooed.

“Do you wanna go out this weekend?” Eddie asks abruptly.

“…Out?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, and he sounds shy all of a sudden, like he’s nervous. “Like— Like on a date.”

Steve lifts his head, looking down at him. Eddie’s cheeks are pink.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says again, glancing away, taking a breath. “I just… I just realized we’ve never actually been on a date, and…” He looks up at Steve, his tongue flashing over his bottom lip. “I know a place that’s… that’s, like, queer friendly.”

Steve blinks, smiling slowly.

“…Really?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie smiles, tilting his head at him like he’s fond, like Steve is a cute puppy or something.

“You wanna go out with me?” he asks lightly. Steve suppresses his smile but he can’t, and it grows into a bright grin, and it’s the first time he’s actually smiled all day. Eddie’s eyes drop to his mouth, his expression lighting up like he’s realizing it too.

“Yes,” Steve says, shifting to lay on top of Eddie’s body, their legs entwined, their chests pressing, and Steve’s heart feels like it’s beating harder, like it’s trying to reach Eddie’s through their skin and the fabric of their shirts. “I wanna go out with you.”

Eddie suppresses his own smile.

“Okay.”

He lays back down, kissing Eddie jaw and then his neck, biting teasingly when Eddie’s hand tugs at his hair.

The date is on Friday. They go to a diner that’s just outside the city, on the corner of a block in a colorful neighborhood. Eddie parks the van out front as Steve looks at the building, at the glowing OPEN sign in the window. It looks quiet, a little bit empty; there are a few people sitting at the bar, sipping from white mugs and looking at newspapers and notebooks, and there are two women sitting behind one of the windows, across from each other, laughing. There’s a pink triangle on the entry door.

Eddie holds the door open for Steve, tilting his head politely as Steve passes by him with a suppressed smile, and the woman behind the counter glances up at them when the bell above the door dings cheerfully. Eddie’s hand takes Steve’s, lacing their fingers and pulling to lead him to a booth in the back.

They sit across from each other after taking off their jackets, and Steve looks around again. There are flashes of color everywhere he looks even though it’s mostly brown inside; the seats of the booths are a muted teal, and there are glowing neon signs on one of the walls, reading things like girls girls girls and soups & sandwiches. There are gumball machines and a pinball machine and there’s bunting draping in the air over the door to the kitchen. It’s made up of small American flags, but when Steve looks a little closer he realizes the flags are upside down.

When Steve looks at Eddie again, he’s resting his chin on his hand, watching Steve with a small smile.

“Hi,” Steve says shyly, leaning over the table to look at him, mirroring him with his chin on his hand.

“Hi,” Eddie says softly. “What do you think?”

Steve glances around again.

“‘S nice,” he says before hesitating for a brief moment. “You don’t think they’ll mind that…”

“That they’ve got queers for patrons?”

Steve scoffs.

“Yeah.”

“Nah,” Eddie says softly. “They don’t mind.” He looks past Steve, hesitating before he gestures with a tilting his head. “See those ladies over there?”

Steve looks over his shoulder at the women sitting by the window. They’re holding hands across the table, and their ankles are locked, and Steve can only see one of their faces from where he’s sitting, but she’s beaming so brightly it’s like she’s reflecting the other woman’s expression.

“Oh,” he says softly.

“Yeah.”

Steve looks at Eddie again, biting his lip, and he crosses his arms over the top of the table, hiding his hands. His eyes scan Eddie’s content smile, his hands resting on the tabletop and holding his chin. Steve starts to pull his hand out from where it’s tucked against himself but he stops, hesitating, his stomach flipping. Eddie’s smile grows.

“Go ‘head,” he says softly.

Steve suppresses a smile, biting his lip again as he pulls his hand away and reaches across the table, grabbing Eddie’s and pulling it toward himself. Eddie bites back a laugh, amused. Their fingers twist until Steve is holding onto Eddie’s middle and ring fingers, holding them loosely before he squeezes absently, nervously. Eddie brushes his thumb over Steve’s fingers gently. Steve looks away.

“Hiya, boys.”

Steve jumps at the sound of the waitress’s voice, looking up as she approaches their table and sets two menus in front of them. He starts to pull his hand away, but Eddie squeezes, tugging it back in place.

“Can I get you started with any drinks?” she asks lightly. She’s smiling at them, like she doesn’t even see them holding hands.

“Uh,” Eddie says, looking at Steve with raised eyebrows.

“Do— Do you have orange soda?” Steve asks, looking up at her again, and she nods before looking at Eddie.

“Ginger ale.”

She nods.

Steve exhales as she walks away, her ponytail swinging behind her, her shoes clicking on the floor, and Eddie squeezes his hand again.

“Hey,” he says softly, and Steve looks at him. “We’re okay.”

Steve nods, taking a deep breath, squeezing his hand.

“We’re okay.”

They only let go of each other’s hands when their food comes, and Eddie immediately kicks at Steve’s feet to prompt him to move them forward so they can lock their ankles together. Steve feels like he’s thirteen or something, his cheeks flushed with heat because his crush is touching him. It’s ridiculous. But Eddie keeps grinning at him across the table like he knows.

They get pie to share. It’s stupid. Almost embarrassing, especially when Eddie grabs a paper napkin and reaches over to wipe Steve’s chin himself. Steve rolls his eyes and snatches it from him as Eddie giggles. His lips are stained red.

Steve is fucking obsessed with him.

He clings to Eddie’s arm as they leave, no longer scared of being seen, almost wanting it now. Wanting people to look over their mugs and hovering forks to see these two boys, these two men, fingers laced, cheeks warm. Wanting people to see exactly how Steve feels, exactly how his heart beats in time with Eddie’s, how his veins are twisted and tangled in the shape of Eddie’s name.

Eddie holds his hand in the car. Steve can barely tear his eyes away from him, gazing at the side of his face, at the lines in his skin that deepen when he smiles after glancing back at Steve.

“What is it?” he asks, his voice light as he slows at a stop sign and looks both ways, leaning to see past Steve.

Steve shrugs even though he isn’t looking at him.

“I really like you.”

His voice is small.

Eddie’s smile widens.

“I really like you too, baby.”

Steve squeezes his hand, grinning, and he sighs heavily, waiting. Eddie pulls his hand away from Steve’s to turn the van into the parking lot outside his building, and Steve whines petulantly, which just makes Eddie laugh.

“Gimme a second, honey.”

Steve sighs, waiting, and he could swear Eddie is doing this on purpose, pulling into a parking spot and then pulling out again, straightening the van, pulling in again, pulling out. Steve scoffs and hits his head against the headrest, rolling his eyes.

“You’re so annoying.”

“Don’t wanna take up someone else’s spot.”

“Mhmm.”

Eddie is smiling as he finally stops the van and pulls the keys out the ignition, and he turns to look at Steve, eyebrows raised.

“You’re pouting?”

“…No.”

“Baby.”

Steve looks at him. And kisses him, leaning across the center console and crashing their mouths together. Eddie laughs, turning to hold his face. He reaches to unbuckle Steve’s seatbelt;t before doing his own, and Steve just tilts his head to kiss him deeper and he scrambles out of the seatbelt. Eddie hums, caressing his cheeks.

“Wanna go inside?” he mumbles between kisses. “Hm?”

“Mhmm,” Steve hums, nodding, but he doesn’t pull away, his breath catching when Eddie tugs on his lower lip.

“C’mon.”

Eddie holds his hand as he leads him upstairs, their fingers locked. It’s a little dark, the lights lining the stairwell dimmer than they should be. They’re quiet, not even whispering to each other as they ascend the stairs, and Steve steps up close to Eddie as he’s unlocking the door, pressing his face against his shoulder.

They’re kissing before the door is even shut behind them, before Eddie’s even flicked the lights on, and they kick their shoes off, shove their jackets off, clutch at each other. The inside of Eddie’s mouth tastes like cherry pie, sweet and sugary and fucking delicious.

Steve wraps his arms around Eddie’s neck and lifts onto his tiptoes, groaning when Eddie grabs his thighs and lifts him up. Eddie grabs his ass when his legs wrap around his hips, reaching to put one hand on the wall to steady himself as he makes his way to his room with Steve clinging to him.

They pull the clothing off each other’s bodies, breathing hard, touching and kissing and licking, and Steve keeps thinking there’s no way he can ever feel what he’s felt before, what he felt the first time Eddie pressed into his body, but the sun is somehow shining down on him even though it’s the middle of the night and they’re hidden in Eddie’s bedroom. Eddie holds his hand, clutching tightly as he opens Steve up tenderly, as he sucks kisses into the sensitive skin of his inner thighs.

Steve’s hand is tight in Eddie’s hair, holding on like he’ll float away if he lets go of him.

He’s whimpering, whining and moaning, and Eddie’s fingers feel so fucking good inside him, moving slowly, gently, carefully, fucking in and out of him, forcing soft noises into the air. Steve bites his lip, squeezing his eyes shut and exhaling sharply.

When he opens his eyes, he can’t see. His vision is blurred, the light from the lamp suddenly brighter than it usually is.

He opens his mouth for a breath, but there’s something on his chest, keeping his lungs from filling, and a tear escapes his eye. His hand clenches in Eddie’s hair hard.

“Baby?”

Steve exhales sharply.

Eddie moves up over his body, hovering over Steve, and Steve can’t let go of his hair. His hand is clenched tightly, shaking, and he can’t let go. He’s gripping so hard he’s probably, definitely hurting Eddie, and he can’t let go.

“What’s your color?”

Eddie’s voice is muffled, like Steve is underwater, like there’s something between them. Steve’s eyes blink, stinging,

“Steve. Color.”

Steve exhales again, and his voice is weak, cracking like a thin layer of ice when he finally says, “Red.”

Eddie’s fingers pull out of him, and Steve wants to protest, to whine Come back, but he can’t get any other words out.

“Come here,” Eddie says softly, kindly, and Steve squeezes his eyes shut, tears falling down his face, into his hair. Eddie holds Steve’s hand where it’s stuck in his hair, and Steve tries to let go, but he can’t.

“I’m sorry,” he says weakly, almost whispering. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I—”

“Steve,” Eddie says firmly, pulling him to sit up. “Don’t apologize, baby, it’s okay. We’re all done.”

Steve takes a stuttering breath, opening his eyes to look at him desperately. Eddie is looking at him tenderly, nodding when Steve inhales, and he’s so beautiful Steve starts to cry again. Eddie reaches up to gently detach Steve’s hand from his hair, and Steve closes his eyes tightly, trying to loosen his hand. Eddie holds his clenched fist in his hand, running his thumb over his knuckles.

“Baby,” Eddie says softly. “Look at me.”

Steve opens his eyes.

“You wanna get dressed?”

Steve pauses, looking at him, and then he nods.

Eddie leans to grab their clothes from where they’re discarded next to the bed. He sits up with a hoodie in his hand, one that was on the floor within reach. He lets go of Steve’s hand to help him get dressed, to help him pull his boxers on and tug Eddie’s hoodie on over his head before he dresses himself as well.

Steve covers his face in his hands, trying to hide, and he weakens even more when Eddie touches him, when he runs his hands over his arms gently, squeezing.

“Stevie, baby…”

“I’m sorry,” Steve chokes, his voice muffled. “I’m so sorry, baby, I— I don’t—”

Eddie shushes him gently, pushing his fingers through his hair.

“Steve, sweetheart, come here.” He pulls him in so their foreheads press together, and he caresses his cheeks, nudging their noses together. “Breathe,” he says softly, whispering. “It’s okay.”

Steve sniffles, reaching to hold his waist, gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly. He tries to breathe, to inhale slowly, normally, but it doesn’t work, and his breath gets caught in his throat, choking him.

“You got it,” Eddie murmurs.

When Steve exhales smoothly, Eddie lifts his head and looks at him, smoothing his hair out of the way carefully, gently.

“I’m sorry,” Steve breathes. Eddie shakes his head patiently.

“You don’t have to be sorry.”

“But…”

But it was a good night.

They’d gone on an actual date, and Steve had had fun, he’d held his boyfriend’s hand in public without worrying, without being scared. He’d kissed him in the car and giggled and blushed, and everything was fucking fine.

“Look at me,” Eddie says firmly, and Steve lifts his head, his vision blurring. Eddie is looking at him intently, tenderly. “You don’t have to apologize,” he says gently. “You didn’t do anything wrong, you understand?”

“But…”

“But nothing, baby,” Eddie says, leaning forward in emphasis. “You did so good for me, okay?”

Steve’s eyes flutter as he blinks tears out of his eyes.

“I’m so proud of you,” Eddie whispers. “I’m not upset at all, Stevie, okay?”

It must be clear on his face that Steve doesn’t believe him. Because it doesn’t make sense that Eddie wouldn’t be upset; Steve’s ruined their night. There’s no way Eddie isn’t at least disappointed.

“Steve,” Eddie murmurs. “Baby.”

Steve looks at him again, letting him wipe his tears and cradle his jaw.

“I would be upset if you didn’t say anything,” Eddie says gently. “If you didn’t stop me, and you just… let me keep going even though you didn’t want to.” His voice sounds tight. “Okay? You never, ever have to apologize for stopping anything. If it’s… If it’s sex, or if you don’t feel like talking, or if you don’t feel like being touched— anything. You understand?”

And something about the way his voice sounds, so firm, almost demanding, almost authoritative, makes Steve feel a little lightheaded. Makes him melt into his hands.

He’s so nice.

“Stevie,” Eddie says softly. “If you decide that you never wanna have sex with me ever again, that’s okay.”

Steve almost pouts, his head tilting, and Eddie smiles weakly, his thumbs brushing over Steve’s cheeks.

“That’s okay,” Eddie says adamantly, shaking Steve’s head gently, playfully. “You don’t ever have to do anything you don’t want to, okay? ”

Steve nods weakly.

Eddie leans in again, nudging their noses together.

“You don’t ever have to apologize for not wanting something,” he says softly. “For saying no or telling me to stop or asking for more time or fucking anything, you understand me?”

Steve nods, his eyes fluttering again. Eddie holds his jaw and shakes his head playfully again, and it’s kind of condescending, kind of mean, but it makes Steve’s mind go blank.

“You understand me?” Eddie asks again, more intently, waiting for a verbal response.

Steve isn’t thinking. His skull is full of static.

“Yes, sir.”

Eddie blinks.

And Steve’s own voice catches up to him. His face flushes with heat, and his eyes burn.

“I’m—”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Eddie says, half-smiling now. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

Steve scoffs weakly, but he’s crying again, embarrassed, and Eddie wipes his tears away, leaning in to kiss his forehead before he lowers his head to press his forehead to it.

“Is that what you wanna call me, baby?” he murmurs. Steve’s stomach flutters. He nods. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, his voice weak again. It’s almost a whine.

“That’s okay,” Eddie whispers. “You can call me that.”

“But it’s weird,” Steve says quietly, shyly, and Eddie huffs out a laugh.

“You know I don’t mind weird.”

Steve smiles weakly.

“I like it,” Eddie whispers softly, the end of his nose brushing Steve’s. “I love taking care of you, baby.”

Steve nods, closing his eyes, exhaling slowly, and their noses brush again.

“I love taking care of you,” Eddie repeats intently.

Steve tilts his head and lifts his chin to kiss him softly, and Eddie lets him, humming quietly and holding his face like he’s something precious.

Eddie guides him to rest on his shoulder when they part, and Steve sighs, melting against him.

“Okay?” Eddie asks softly. Steve nods.

“…Thank you, sir.”

“Of course, baby boy,” Eddie murmurs, and he kisses Steve’s head, running his hands over his spine, and Steve think he might be fucking fine.

─────────────��───

Steve’s hair is damp with rain as he makes his way up the stairs to Eddie’s apartment. He feels heavy; his jacket is almost soaked, and his jeans are sticking to his legs, and his bag is weighing his shoulders down. He lets it drop to his elbow before dropping it to the ground as he stops outside Eddie’s door.

Eddie answers within just a few seconds, and Steve smiles, tilting his head at him as Eddie steps aside for him to come inside, but something is off. Eddie’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks, dropping his bag next to the pile of shoes by the door, letting Eddie take his jacket. Eddie scoffs, his expression lightening.

“Nothing?”

Steve gives him a look as he toes his shoes off, kicking them aside.

“What’s going on?”

“Uh,” Eddie sighs, an eyebrow raising as he looks Steve up and down, half-smiling. “You don’t have an umbrella?”

“Don’t change the subject,” Steve says lightly, moving closer, setting his arms over Eddie’s shoulders and playing with the curls that have escaped the bun his hair is in. Eddie holds his waist easily. “Also yes, I do, but I forgot it.”

“Ah.” Eddie sighs heavily, slowly, his eyes skimming Steve’s face. “Wayne called.”

Steve blinks. His stomach twists.

He’s never met Wayne. Never even talked on the phone with him. But he loves him.

Eddie has endless stories about it, about his collections of mugs and trucker hats and bottle openers, about his banjo and the quilts that litter his living room. About how he’d stay up with Eddie to help him with his homework or to listen to him rant about whatever book he was reading or whatever campaign he was planning. About how he came home one day and threw a brand-new hairbrush at Eddie a while after he started growing his hair out. About how sweet he’s always been, how loving.

“Is he okay?” he asks, his eyes widening. “What happened?”

“He’s fine,” Eddie says quickly, smiling, shaking his head, pressing a hand into the small of Steve’s back. “He’s fine, it’s just…”

Steve stares at him as he hesitates, his lips parted like he’s going to speak even though he doesn’t say anything. Steve touches his face, brushing his thumbs over his cheeks. His eyes look a little bit red.

“It’s Linda,” Eddie says after a few moments, his hands holding Steve’s waist firmly like he’s steadying himself on him. Steve freezes. “She, uhm. She had a heart attack. She didn’t make it.”

He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly, shakily, nodding his head absently. His eyes are glassy.

“How do you feel?” Steve asks softly.

Eddie inhales, laughing humourlessly, letting out a shaky, “Uh…”

“Baby,” Steve says, and Eddie meets his eyes. His eyelashes flutter as he blinks tears back, and his tongue swipes over his lower lip briefly. Steve slides his hands down to his arms.

“Come here,” he says softly, reaching for Eddie’s hand, and he pulls him along gently as he goes to the living room. Eddie follows quietly, sniffling, and Steve’s chest hurts. He pushes him to sit on the sofa, and Eddie falls on it heavily, looking up at Steve helplessly as Steve lowers to sit on his lap, his knees on either side of his hips. “Okay?”

Eddie nods, his mouth quirking into a tired smile. Steve sets his hands on his neck, tracing light lines over his skin.

“Tell me,” he whispers.

Eddie closes his eyes and takes a slow deep breath, relaxing against the back of the sofa and lifts his hands to rest them on Steve’s thighs.

“I, uhm…” He opens his eyes, but they’re hazy, glassy, trained on the collar of Steve’s shirt. It’s a plain t-shirt, grey and loose-fitted, but it’s nothing Steve would ever have worn even a year ago. The cross on Steve’s necklace is hidden behind the fabric. “I don’t know how to feel.”

His hands are kneading Steve’s thighs gently, absently, like he’s fidgeting.

“What are you feeling right now?” Steve asks softly. Eddie pauses before he shrugs.

“Just… I don’t know.” His voice cracks. He looks at Steve, looking into his eyes for a moment before he looks away again, squeezing Steve’s hips. “I’m… Sad. But. I don’t know.” He shrugs again, shaking his head. His head falls against the back of the sofa.

Steve brushes his thumb over his throat lightly, his heart aching.

“I feel angry?” Eddie says after a moment, his expression shifting into confusion. “I don’t— I don’t know why, it— it’s like she slighted me or something, I don’t…” He does that laugh again, that awful laugh that grates on Steve’s skin, that laugh that’s void of joy. “I don’t know.”

“You’re allowed to feel angry,” Steve says quietly, tucking a loose wisp of hair behind his ear. The tunnels through his earlobes are black today.

“It’s not just anger,” Eddie breathes, his hands sliding up to Steve’s waist like he’s pleading with him. “I… I feel relieved.”

He whispers it. Like it’s a secret. Like he’s ashamed.

“That’s okay,” Steve whispers back, but Eddie shakes his head, blinking rapidly.

“It’s not,” he breathes. Steve takes a breath to say something, but Eddie speaks again. “She’s dead. I— How can I feel, like, content with it?”

“She was cruel to you,” Steve interrupts, leaning down with emphasis. “She was mean. You have every right to feel relieved that you don’t have to worry about her anymore.”

Eddie’s head falls back again and he sighs, looking at the ceiling. His eyelashes are wet. Steve traces the bat on his neck, caressing its grotesque face, its intricate wings. Eddie’s hands squeeze his waist, kneading and holding him tightly.

“Talk to me,” Steve says after a few moments. Eddie takes another deep breath.

“Uhm,” he says. His voice wavers, and Steve hates seeing him like this, hates seeing him sad. “I saw her a few years ago.”

Steve nods, caressing his neck.

“I was nineteen. Wayne had… Wayne had had an accident at the plant,” Eddie continues, steeling himself. “He was injured. It wasn’t, like… He was on bed rest, you know? And when he called me, I just… I panicked. I’d only lived away from him a little while, and I just… I went to him. Just in case.”

Steve smiles fondly, nodding. Of course Eddie would go to him.

“He couldn’t really walk. He was still… I mean. Wayne’s a character. He kept tellin’ me I didn’t need to go all the way down there, but he… I could tell he was happy I was there.”

Steve’s smile grows. Eddie’s accent always grows heavier when he talks about his hometown or Wayne. Steve likes hearing his accent.

“So one day, I was…” Eddie sighs. “I was in the kitchen fixin’ up some tea. Wayne was in bed with a book. He took my room after I left town.” Steve nods. “And, uhm… There was a knock.”

He slips a hand under the hem of Steve’s shirt, pressing to his skin. His hand is warm.

“I thought it was gonna be, like, a neighbor, or— or one of Wayne’s work buddies, but it was—” He cuts off, choking on his own voice, and Steve’s stomach hurts. “It was Linda.”

He pauses for a moment, slipping his tongue over his lips, kneading the soft flesh above Steve’s waistband.

“She didn’t recognize me at first,” he says quietly. “I, like, froze when I saw her, and she— she just stared at me. And I could— I could see the exact moment she realized who I was, I mean she, like… Her eyes went all wide. And she looked me up and down, and I— I remember I was wearing just a black hoodie, but she looked at it like…”

“Yeah,” Steve says softly when he doesn’t finish.

“I’d had these done,” Eddie says, lifting a hand and touching one of the piercings on his lower lip. “And I had, uhm, one here,” he says, touching the side of his nose. “I let it close a while ago, but it was, uhm, just a silver hoop.”

Steve nods, smiling.

“She… She just stared at me, and neither of us knew what to do.” Eddie looks at Steve’s chest again, his eyes glassy, and it’s like he’s zoned out completely, like he’s barely even there. “She had a, uhm, like a casserole dish, and a— a Bible. And I just kinda stared for a moment. And then she, uhm, like, snapped at me about… You’re not gonna let me in?”

Steve sighs.

“And I just said no.”

Steve scoffs, and Eddie’s expression lightens. He looks up at Steve’s face, his hands tightening on his waist.

“And I asked what she wanted, and she told me she heard Wayne was hurt so she came by to see him, and I… We started arguing. And Wayne came out of his room to see what the fuss was, and he was— he was limping, and hobbling, and Linda and I both, like scolded him for getting out of bed. And for this… brief moment, we were… one in the same.”

Steve’s expression tightens. His lips purse.

“Wayne saw the Bible she was holding,” Eddie continues. “And he…” He half-smiles, tilting his head fondly even though he’s just staring into space. “Goddammit, Linda,” he says in a clear impression of Wayne, his voice gravelly, his accent thicker. Steve smiles. “I told you I don’t want that shit in my house.

“I helped Wayne back to bed,” Eddie continues. “And Linda let herself in. Started to heat up the casserole. I told Wayne to stay put, you know, that I’d deal with her.”

“I assume she didn’t go easily,” Steve says. Eddie shakes his head.

“She, uhm… She argued. Told me she just wanted to speak with Wayne, say a prayer for his health. I told her Wayne wasn’t interested.” He trails off into silence, chewing on his lip. “…She said she wanted to help me, too, but… but that I was already too far gone.”

Steve blinks. Recognizes the words from Eddie’s thigh.

“I told her to leave.” Eddie blinks, looking up at Steve. His lip trembles, and his eyes fill with tears. “That was the last time I saw her.”

Steve touches his cheek. Eddie turns his face into it, taking a stuttering breath.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he says softly. Eddie blinks his eyes open, shrugging again. “Eddie.”

“I feel like shit,” Eddie says, a tear falling down his cheek, his voice shaking. “I hate feeling like this, like— like I’m fucking vindicated or something. Like this is justice.” His eyes are wide like he’s desperate to say this, like he needs Steve to hear him. “She’s dead. I should be, like, grieving, but I’m not,” he says despite the tears on his face, despite the trembling of his hands.

“Eddie,” Steve says firmly, holding his face. Eddie’s tears run down his fingers, dampening his skin, and Steve thinks he could use the tears as holy water, could use them to bless himself, to purify himself. “There’s nothing wrong with what you’re feeling.”

Eddie’s breath shudders as he exhales. He looks up at Steve like he’s helpless, like he’s listening like his life depends on it.

“She abused you,” Steve says after hesitating for a moment. “She was cruel. She used God to use you. You have every right to be glad she’s gone. Okay?”

Eddie’s eyes flutter. Steve wipes his tears away tenderly.

“Whatever you’re feeling is fine,” Steve murmurs. “You can be angry, and you can be sad, and you can be happy, it’s… It’s all fine.” He looks him in the eye. He looks tired. “Okay?”

Eddie’s eyes blink at him. His hands are still trembling a little bit.

“…I love you.”

Steve almost startles, blinking, freezing, and Eddie’s expression doesn’t change; he’s still gazing up at Steve, looking at him like he’s fucking reverent.

“I know it…” Eddie pauses, taking a breath. “I know this is really bad timing, but I…” His eyes flutter, and he presses his lips together, hesitating.

Steve leans down and kisses him. It’s a slow kiss, gentle and lingering, and Eddie’s hands slide around to the small of his back, holding him close. When Steve pulls away, he stays close, their noses nudging, their foreheads pressing.

“I love you too,” he says quietly, whispering. “It’s okay.”

Eddie exhales shakily, and he lets out a quiet sob, and it tears through Steve’s body, rips him to shreds right in Eddie’s lap. He kisses him again, holding his face gently, pushing a hand into his hair when Eddie gasps into his mouth. Eddie wraps his arms around his waist, holding him tightly, pressing them together so close Steve feels like their skin might melt together.

Eddie makes a soft noise, a weak groan that slips between Steve’s lips and rumbles into his chest. Steve whines back, his arms wrapping around Eddie’s neck, his back arching when Eddie kisses him harder, biting and sucking on his lip, and it’s like the air in the room has suddenly become hazy. Eddie lifts a hand to grab Steve’s throat, holding him in place as he licks into his mouth.

Steve hums, keening, slumping against him, nodding when Eddie pulls away for a brief moment to look at him. He doesn’t let go of Steve’s throat, squeezing a little bit as his other hand slides around to his back, pushing under his shirt and rubbing his skin. Steve reaches to hold his wrist, gasping for breath, cheeks warm. Eddie is harder under him, and Steve’s blood is rushing.

“Eddie,” he gasps when they part.

“Mm.”

“Do you… Do you wanna have sex?” he asks breathlessly. Eddie grins, his teeth nipping at Steve’s lip.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?” Steve asks, pulling away to look at him. His hair is already a mess, and his cheeks are pink, and his eyes are glassy again, but it’s a better shine than before.

“Yes,” he says softly.

“Can we do it here?”

“Do you want…”

“I’ll go get it,” Steve says quickly when Eddie’s hands set on his hips like he’s going to nudge him to get up. “Wait here.”

Eddie smiles lazily, softly.

“Okay.”

Steve goes quickly, tugging his shirt off on his way and tossing it aside as he grabs the lube and a condom from Eddie’s bedside table. They’re sitting in plain view, next to a half-full glass of water and a book Eddie’s been reading, and the sight of them, so casual, so easy, makes Steve happy somehow.

Eddie is pulling his own shirt off when Steve goes back to him, and Steve tosses the lube and condom to the sofa next to him before unzipping his jeans as Eddie watches, hair even messier than before, frizzy and staticy from his shirt. It’s a relief when Steve finally peels his jeans off his legs; they’re still a little damp, but he hadn’t noticed the discomfort until now. Eddie lifts his hips to pull his jeans and boxers down his hips, pushing them to his knees before reaching for Steve, who takes his hand as he kicks aside his clothes.

He falls onto Eddie’s lap again with a sharp exhale as their bodies meet. Eddie’s skin is warm.

“I love you,” Steve breathes, pressing their foreheads together as Eddie reaches for the lube and tugs at the small of Steve’s back to make him arch it. “I love you so much, sir.”

“God, I love you too, baby,” Eddie whispers. The lube bottle clicks twice, and Steve lets out a weak sound when Eddie’s finger presses to his hole, cold with lube. “I’m so fucking grateful for you.”

Steve whines, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s neck, hiding his face, groaning when Eddie squeezes at his ass, spreading him open. They’re both quiet as Eddie fingers him open, his fingers pushing and prodding, spreading his fingers and making Steve ache in the best way, except the occasional whisper, the soft brush of Eddie’s breath on Steve’s bare skin.

Is that good?

Fuck, yes, sir.

Steve groans when he feels ready, when the heat in his stomach is threatening to overflow, and he reaches back to swat at Eddie’s hand, whining a weak Please.

He lifts onto his knees for Eddie to roll the condom on and spread lube over himself, and he looks down at Eddie, who looks back up at him. They just look at each other for a moment, eyes shining, lips parted as they pant. And then Steve kisses him so hard their teeth clash, and Eddie groans, squeezing his ass. They don’t pull away, feeling blindly for Steve to lower himself onto Eddie, and he moans into Eddie’s mouth as he does.

“Mm, God, Eddie.”

“Fuck.”

Steve lets out a sound that’s high in his throat, breathy and weak, and Eddie’s hands spread over his waist, holding him in place for a moment. He’s trembling now, shaking as he clings to Eddie’s shoulders.

“Shit,” he breathes sharply. “You’re so— You’re so fucking deep—”

Eddie hums, gripping Steve tightly, and they pause there, staying for a moment.

Until Steve shifts on his knees with a weak whines, rising and then lowering, his eyes squeezed shut so tightly he might get a headache. He sounds pathetic.

He moves faster after a few moments, arms wrapping around Eddie’s neck, face buried and hidden, his voice muffled as he whines and pants and groans as Eddie touches him, holds him. Eddie’s hips shift for a brief moment, rising to meet Steve’s movements, and it presses him even deeper, and Steve lets out a fucking wail.

“You okay?” Eddie asks breathlessly, pausing. Steve grinds down against him, whining, breathing hard, nodding into his neck.

“Green, fuck, Eddie,” he whines. “Please, sir, please, please—”

Eddie slides down the sofa a little bit, holding Steve’s hips tightly, keeping him in place, and he fucks him, looking up at him, watching closely, carefully. Steve whines. He’s rambling, mumbling fucking deliriously even as he listens to Eddie’s soft voice, murmuring to him.

“My good boy,” he says softly, so fucking softly. “My baby boy, you’re so perfect.”

Steve sobs, pushing a hand into Eddie’s hair, holding it tightly as he gasps for breath, moving against Eddie’s body, winding his hips, tucking his face into Eddie’s neck. He can feel Eddie’s breath on his shoulder, warm and soft and comforting.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Eddie says roughly, hands gripping Steve’s hips so tightly it might bruise, when Steve moves again, up and down, and Steve groans at the sound of their skin meeting, soft slaps that fill the air like mist. “That’s my boy, there you go, baby.”

Steve whines, and there are tears on his face now. Eddie tugs at his hair to make him lift his head, and he gazes at him for a moment before he pulls him in, and he licks Steve’s tears away, and maybe he thinks the same about Steve’s tears that Steve thinks about his. Steve groans, his eyes closing again as Eddie’s tongue slides over his cheek, as his hand pulls his hair and his other hand squeezes his ass.

Steve grinds against him, reaching up to hold Eddie’s face weakly, his fingertips pressing into his cheeks.

Their faces are pressed together, breath mixing in the air, bodies moving desperately.

“I love you,” Steve breathes. “I love you, sir—”

Eddie whines, licking his jaw before his hand lands on Steve’s ass sharply, the sound ringing out around the room like it’s empty, like there’s an echo.

“I love you too,” he whispers roughly. “Fucking beyond words, baby, I can’t even fucking tell you—”

Steve comes with the words caught in his throat, choking on them as he repeats them again and again and again and again, like a mantra. Like a prayer.

Eddie says it back. Again and again and again and again.

They get dressed slowly. Quietly. Eddie pushes Steve’s hair back after helping him pull on a sweater, and Steve pushes him gently so his back is to Steve, so he can pull his curls back into a ponytail.

Eddie makes coffee. Steve hugs his waist as he pours it into two mugs, resting his face against his back between his shoulder blades, his cheek squishing against him. He can smell the fabric of his shirt, and it’s nice.

They sit in the living room, on the sofa, and then Eddie looks up at Steve, his eyebrows taut.

“Do you… Would you mind if I smoked a cigarette?” he asks. He looks shy.

Steve shakes his head, smiling, and he reaches to set his mug aside.

“Where are they?” he asks as he gets up. Eddie looks up at him, and his eyes are shining again as he smiles.

“Uh, I have a pack in the drawer there,” he says, gesturing to the table by the sofa. “There’s a lighter there too. I’ll open a window.”

They sit on the windowsill, blankets wrapped around themselves, mugs set between them.

Steve holds up a cigarette for him, and Eddie leans to take it between his lips, suppressing a smile. Steve fiddles with the lighter for a moment, staring at it, and Eddie reaches silently to show him, moving his hand so he can flick the lighter and tilt his hand without burning his thumb. Steve tilts his head as he holds the light out, as Eddie leans in and inhales, puffing smoke out of his mouth as he leans back again.

Steve sips his coffee as Eddie smokes, leaning against the window. The glass is cold even through the fabric of his sweater and the blanket that’s wrapped around him, but he doesn’t mind. He gazes at Eddie, watches the end of his cigarette glow brightly, watches the smoke drift around his head and out the window that he’s opened. Eddie drains his coffee and tapes the cigarette ash into the empty mug.

“How do you feel?” Steve asks softly when their eyes meet.

“Better,” Eddie says. His voice is soft, quiet, almost shy. He smiles.

“Do you wanna talk about her?”

Eddie shrugs, taking a drag, sighing the smoke out of his lungs.

“I just…” He’s quiet for a moment, looking out the window, watching the world outside for a moment. “I was so young when I lived with them. And it just feels like… like there’s still this little boy somewhere inside me that went into hiding because of them.”

Steve nods, holding his mug to his face so the steam is on his skin. He wishes he could take it all away from Eddie, wishes he could reach into his chest and pull out all the heartache and sadness. Eddie is quiet, looking at the windowsill between them. It’s white, the paint chipping at the corner of the wood.

“I keep having to remind myself that I didn’t deserve it,” Eddie says quietly. “All the shit they gave me.”

And Steve doesn’t know what to say.

He’s reminded of the things Eddie’s said to him about Steve’s own parents, about the way they talk to him, the way they touch him.

“They turned me into someone else,” Eddie says quietly, tapping the cigarette on the mug again, sighing. “I wasn’t the same when I left their house as when I moved in.”

He looks up at Steve, and he looks like he wants to laugh like that again, to dismiss it and change the subject, to pretend he’s fine. But after a moment, his eyes are gleaming, watering again, and his lip quivers even as he twists his mouth to suppress it. He shrugs, blinking his eyes, tilting his head, and he looks so small Steve wants to tuck him into his chest to keep him safe.

“I was so soft before them,” Eddie says, his voice just a breath, and Steve’s chest splits open.

His eyes burn suddenly, and he nods, blinking tears back.

“I’m sorry they stole that from you,” he says softly.

He pauses for a moment before he leans in, through the air that smells like cigarette smoke, over his mug, and he touches Eddie’s face with his free hand, holding him as he kisses him gently. They linger there, eyelashes fluttering against each other’s cheeks, before Steve pulls away and looks at him, touching his cheek.

He takes a deep breath, looking at Eddie’s piercings on his mouth, looking at the bat on his throat, at the subtle reddish bruise that’s hidden in the bat’s wing from Steve’s teeth. He slides his hand down to Eddie’s chest and presses over his heart like he’s trying to feel the heat of his blood.

“He’s still in here,” he says quietly, looking at his hand pressing over Eddie’s sweater. “Little Eddie.”

Eddie suppresses a smile, sniffling, putting his hand over Steve’s like he’s holding it in place.

“We can… We can make him feel safe now,” Steve says, looking into Eddie’s eyes. “He can exist without being scared now. At home.”

Eddie’s smile wavers. His hand presses harder over Steve’s.

“I love you so much.”

Steve kisses him again, tasting coffee and cigarettes on his tongue.

“I love you so much too.”

♡ permanent taglist: @estrellami-1 @theplantscientist @spectrum-spectrum @carlprocastinator1000 @starman-jpg @romantiklen @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme ♡ holy things taglist: @stevesbipanic @pearynice @ao3whore @slowandsteddie @swordsandflowercrowns @dragonmama76 @mikeys-thoughts @sofadofax @cyranyx @kazalohiku @lostonceandneverfound @strangerfreaks @bitchysteveharrington @nailbatanddungeon @newtstabber (comment to be added/removed to/from either list!!)

♡ art of steve and eddie ♡ pinboard // playlist ♡ buy me a coffee

#in case anyone missed it: updates will now be every other week!#so the next update will be this upcoming tuesday #term ended this week and i have a ton of assignments i need to do and im also going to my parents next week so i have a lot going on #anyway #go eat something yummy #drink some water #take your meds #stretch your neck #love you all #mwah mwah mwah #steddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #a mess of holy things

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steddie-island · 4 months

Text

For A Good Cause

@steddiemas day 19: Steddie as parents | WC: 1562 | Rating: G Read full list of tags on ao3

It’s for a good cause. It’s for a good cause. Do it for Claudia, it’s for a good cause.

Eddie had been repeating that to himself for two weeks. It was the only thing that got him through not only wearing the stifling red suit and beard but through the parade of kids. Sure, some were well-behaved, but then some were throwing a tantrum and others were terrified– he blamed it on the beard and not on the ring through Santa’s nose.

He was starting to question whether this was worth making Claudia happy, though, as he took a break to untangle a candy cane from his beard– and not for the first time. “They’ll never end, man. One wave leaves, another comes through five minutes later.” Jeff adjusted his prosthetic elf ears and put his hands on his hips. “Why are we doing this again?” “‘Cause Claudia asked us to and we can’t tell her no.” Eddie adjusted the fake belly beneath his shirt. “Because she’s a fucking angel who cooks for us.” Gareth kicked his legs where he sat perched up on the counter. “You mean you can’t tell Claudia no, and you asked us and we can’t tell you no.” Eddie grabbed scissors to cut the piece of candy cane out– he would just have to style around it, there was no untangling the sticky mess from whatever material the beard was made from. “Because you know I’ll kill you,” he said, grinning.

Gareth flipped him off. “C’mon, Santa. Your adoring crowd awaits.”

The day only got worse from there. A set of twins threw a fit as their parents made them both see Santa at the same time– Eddie still wasn’t sure if they were mad that they didn’t each get their own turn or if they didn’t want to be there at all. Another kid pulled his beard down to reveal the fact that he wasn’t really Santa, which sent the next several kids in line into meltdowns that Eddie had to try to fix.

With how busy they were the day should have passed by in a blur, but each kid just seemed to make the seconds drag out longer and longer. When they finally got through the last kid in line, Eddie was sticky and tired and beyond ready to go home. “That’s a wrap, folks,” he said as he stood and flipped the sign around to read “Santa is out” in Christmas red glitter. “Thank god.” Jeff shook his head and moved to remove his ears. “This was the longest fucking day of my life.” “Of your life? Did you have any kids sneeze directly on you?” Eddie asked. “No, I don’t think so. You had it easy. But now we can kick back, relax, and–” “Wait!” Eddie looked towards the voice and groaned softly. A man with chestnut hair was practically sprinting across the mall with a puffy pink bundle in his arms. “Wait, don’t leave–” “Oh, shit.” Jeff snapped his ears back into place as the man got closer. “Listen, buddy, Santa’s already out for the night, you’ll have to come back.” “Please, we’ve been to three other stores and all of the Santas were gone for the night,” he begged. “I promised that we would get to see Santa today. You wouldn’t make me break my promise to a kid, right?” Eddie had to give it to the guy, he knew how to play on the heartstrings. He turned with a sigh and stopped– he hadn’t been able to tell from far away, but the man was fucking beautiful. He had beautiful golden skin dotted with moles that Eddie found himself very much wanting to map like goddamn constellations, the warmest brown eyes made even bigger by the round frame glasses.

The guy was talking to him. Eddie could see those beautiful lips moving, the guy was looking at him, clearly he was addressing Eddie, who had been so busy staring that he hadn’t processed a single goddamn word in at least the last thirty seconds. “Huh?” he asked. The man smiled a little and gestured to the pink bundle– which had moved and pushed her hood down, revealing those same wide eyes, looking at him with all the hope in the world. “Think you can squeeze one more kid in? I would owe you big time…” God, that crooked smile was like a punch to Eddie’s stomach. He would burn the mall down if he could get another smile like that. Eddie adjusted his hat, turned on his heel, and walked back to the throne. “What kind of Santa would I be if I said no to a request like that? Let them through!” Gareth watched Eddie with confusion and then delight. “Right this way!” he said, and he moved the velvet rope so the little girl could be carried through.

Her big eyes glowed with wonder as she took in the glittering piles of snow and the decorated trees that were set up behind the throne. “Daddy, so p’etty,” she said. Her gloved hands, which had been clinging to her dad’s shirt, loosened up, and she began squirming in his arms. “Down, Daddy, I wanna see Santa!” “Okay, okay!” He laughed and put her down, so she could do the toddler run the rest of the way to the chair. “Hello, little girl!” Eddie said with his big, booming Santa voice as he helped her up onto his lap. “I’m so glad you made it! I was waiting around just for you!” “You were?” she asked, awed – though her r made more of a w sound. “Yous not the weal Santa, how did you know?” “You bet I was!” Eddie smiled at her, then up at her dad. “Has your dad here explained how mall Santas work?” When she nodded her head, making her little pigtails bounce, he smiled all the wider. “Then you know I’m not the real Santa, but I work for the real Santa. And he told me that a pretty little girl and her handsome daddy were going to be a little late, but that I needed to stick around because that little girl is on the nice list.” She gasped. “I am?” “What’s your name?” Eddie asked her. “Ashwey Hawwington,” she said. “And hims my daddy, Steve.” It sounded more like Steef, the way she said it. “Then yes, I was waiting for you!” Eddie booped her nose with his finger, making her giggle. “The real Santa told me that you’ve been a very good girl this year. Is he right?” “Yes!” Ashley nodded enthusiastically. “I was vewy good.” “Is that right, dad?” Eddie turned to Steve, who looked like he was ready to melt as he watched them. “Yeah.” Steve rested his hands on his hips and gave a warm smile. “She’s been a really good girl this year.”

“See? I towd you.” Ashley wiggled excitedly. “So Santa’s gonna bwing me a pwesent?” she asked. “It sounds like it!” Eddie smiled at her. “Why don’t you tell me what you want, and I’ll make sure Santa knows about it?”

Her face lit up and she clapped her hands. “I want a kitty!” “A kitty?” Eddie looked towards Steve again for a moment. “Have you been good enough to get a kitty?” “Yeah!” she said. “I only weaved my toys out a few times, an I didn’t cwy when Daddy taked me to school. I was good!” Eddie and Steve laughed together at her insistence. “We’ll make sure Santa knows, okay?”

“Okay.” She hugged him tight, then made to wriggle out of his arms. “Wait– don’t you have something to say to Santa?” Steve asked. “And don’t you want a picture?” “Oh yeah!” Ashley grinned wide at where Jeff held the camera. Eddie wasn’t sure what was more precious, the gap on the bottom row of her teeth, the way her parka absolutely swallowed her up, or the way Steve watched her with clear adoration on his face.

Picture taken and candy cane given, Ashley hugged Eddie and gave a rushed “thank you!” before running back to her daddy. Steve scooped her up and smiled at Eddie again. “Uh– thanks. You made her night,” he said. “I was happy to do it.” Eddie smiled at her as she tore into the candy cane wrapper. “It’s not often I get a direct request like that from the big guy up north.”

Steve grinned and adjusted his grip on Ashley. “I guess me and the big guy both owe you one.” He reached out, offering Eddie his hand to shake. “Maybe I can make it up to you sometime.” Eddie gave his hand a quick shake, and when the handshake broke he was left with a scrap of paper in his palm. “See you around, Santa.” Steve winked, turned, and made his way towards the mall entrance. Eddie was so busy watching Steve leave (and, frankly, having thoughts that would get him put on the naughty list) that he nearly forgot about the paper. When he unfolded it, there was a phone number and Steve. It had clearly been written hastily– Eddie wasn’t even sure when he’d stopped watching Ashley long enough to write it at all.

“What’s that?” Jeff asked. Eddie tucked the slip of paper away and headed for the backroom. “My Christmas bonus.”

Dividers and banner by @cafekitsune ❤️

#Steddiemas #Steddie fic #Steddie ficlet #Holiday fic #My writing #My fic

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emeritus-fuckers · 1 year

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Ok so you guys are like the only ones I trust with this request right now but xd hear me out. Prime Mover Reader dealing with all the celebratory mess from drunk asf Copia after tonight's Grammi win. Like I'm dying to see how you imagine that, WHAT is going on, how is the rest of the Abey celebrating etc etc. Also how does drunk Copia even behave? The public needs to KNOW

Lmao good to know you trust us - Jez

Drunk Copia and the Grammi celebration

I just know Nihil is turning in his grave, knowing he lost one of the leverages he had. He can't taunt Copia for not winning a Grammy/Grammi anymore. Grandaddy of All Rituals™ is not happy about that. In fact, he's so salty, he doesn't celebrate at all.

Sister Imperator gets tipsy for the first time in years because her baby won a Grammi and even if nobody knows she's his momma, she is a fucking proud momma. Let her have it.

The Siblings of Sin are celebrating in the best way they all know - partying. Alcohol, drugs, orgies... All kinds of stuff. It's... A really big mess. You should probably avoid big rooms for a while, at least until it gets cleaned up.

The Ghouls are left to their own devices. Most of them go to Hell for a few hours so they can have a more extreme version of the party. It may or may not include cannibalism.

As for our precious boy Copia and his Prime Mover...

Well, Copia is completely smashed. In his defense, he never partied as much as the previous Papas (especially Secondo), so he never really needed to build up that much alcohol tolerance.

He's a very affectionate drunk, incredibly wholesome, but almost overwhelmingly sensitive. You need to be there and hold his hand or he'll cry. And not just like little sniffles, this man will have a full meltdown if the love of his life is not right next to him.

He's all over you, hugging, kissing your cheeks, nuzzling his face against your shoulder. He doesn't grope or do anything sexual, though. Affectionate, not horny drunk.

If you do have to leave him for some reason and come back a few minutes later, he's so wasted he doesn't even recognize you and falls in love again?

You better learn Italian because he forgets English completely.

Actually, don't bother learning Italian. He most likely says random gibberish that won't make sense.

He has a long ass conversation with himself about different kinds of meatballs.

He's arguing with himself about what his favorite food is???And it gets??? So heated???

Like, if he could, he would absolutely get into a fistfight with himself all while still clinging to you. It truly is an incredible sight.

If you're not there when he got drunk, however, he would be on his phone and trying to contact you.

The type of guy to tell you you're the best girlfriend he ever had and then go "Wow, that's amazing, I'm so lucky!" when you remind him you're married.

Kinda married? As close to getting married as you can get, I guess.

If he's drunk when you arrive, he'll literally say he's falling in love. And ask if you're single. He will cry if you tell him you're not.

"Copia, sweetie, I'm not single, I'm your Prime Mover. I'm with you. We're together."

He will cry when he hears that and there's a 50/50 chance for the reason.

It can be either tears of joy because someone so beautiful is with him?? HIM?? Of all people??

Or it can be tears of utter despair because his mind is too fucking focused on the "I'm not single" bit to understand anything else.

You should probably keep him away from mirrors while he's drunk. He gets unreasonably jumpy around them?

Like, bro almost got a heart attack when you were taking him to the bedroom and he looked to the side only to see himself?

Nobody knows why he got so scared of himself??

Please tuck him in, he needs it.

He's like a cranky toddler who refuses to sleep.

It's a hilarious cycle of you trying to get him to sleep, him leaving the bed and trying to get back to the party only to end up panicking in front of a mirror again.

The first couple of times a few more sober Siblings of Sin try to take him back to his room or go get you.

They need to get you, there's no chance he's following anyone else.

It will take a few hours to finally get him to sleep because he's gonna be a mess. He gets so emotional it's weird.

You have to cuddle him until he's in deep sleep if you want to leave the bed without the risk of him waking up and either running away again or crying for you.

You find out later that the only reason he was running away was because you'd leave the room and the party was the last place his drunk mind remembered you being.

Drunk Copia is endearing. A bit tiring to deal with, but endearing.

#ghost band #ghost #ghost bc #ghost band x reader #ghost bc x reader #ghost x reader #ask #anon #request #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #sister imperator #papa nihil

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buccini555 · 1 year

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❛❛ 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐲❜❜ - 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐨

♡┊ H e a d c a n o n s !

⎙ 𝑭𝒕. 𝑴𝒂𝒏𝒋𝒊𝒓𝒐 𝑺𝒂𝒏𝒐

≡ What would it be like to deal with Mikey's impulsiveness dating him.

Mikey's "crises" are recurrent at times, it's not uncommon for this to happen, even more so when the boy goes through bad emotions, you know he can't control himself, but despite that, you also know that he never would hurt you, although in the midst of some of these crises he ends up yelling or being rude to you.

Mikey is really afraid of hurting you, so most of the time Sano tends to walk away from you, he is actually hurt by the fact that he is aware of how much you are saddened by his absence, however, if one day he ends up hurting by "accident" he would never forgive himself, you are the first and only love of his life, so clearly he would rather die than do any harm to you.

As much as you would like to help your boyfriend, it's hard to deal with mood swings and different "personalities", but you really put in the effort, keeping him as comfortable as possible and doing what you can to keep him in a good mood and away from confessions.

He always apologizes after having a meltdown, you are always heartbroken to see him crying or begging for your forgiveness as you know it's not his fault and he just can't control it.

Manjiro is very afraid that you will end up abandoning him, but you always make it clear that you chose to stay by his side even knowing the crises and that fact would not make you love him any less.

He told you about his problems as soon as you and him start dating, at first it was very painful to know how much Mikey suffered from those uncontrollable moments, however, you have all the disposition in the world to at least try to help him.

Manjiro always thanks you for being by his side and being the only person who knows how to deal with all that "mess", he also sincerely strives to try to soften his dark actions and thoughts.

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morganalatina21 · 7 months

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Manipulating Death: Chapter Thirteen

Series Summary: When Harry discovers he has a twin sister that was hiding for years, he wants to know all about her, specially about her ability to bring people back to life.

a/n: i knoww it's been a minute, but i finally sat my ass down to write and I actually did it, I'm sorry it took so long, I was trying to meddle 2 universities, a job and a student organization, so i'ts been meltdown after meltdown. Anyways, hope you guys didn't gave up on me :)

Also for anyone that noticed, I did had to change the gif lol

Word Count: 2.5k

(Also, english isn’t my first language so I’m sorry in advance lol)

Last Chapter | Masterlist

"Please don't be mad. Although, y'all already are, probably. Did I anticipated it? Sure. Heavens know I'm sorry for not saying anything. Even if it's for the best. Lord Voldemort has to be stopped. Please don't worry, and DON'T come looking for me. Matter of fact, I shouldn't be writing. May we meet again soon."

That was all the letter, the only letter, said.

It arrived at the Grimmauld Place two and a half weeks after Y/n vanished from existence, leaving no trace behind except an incredibly disoriented family.

"How could she be gone?" Sirius mumbled for what seemed to be the twentieth time that morning, sitting in the living room, paper spread on the table as he wrote a letter to his godson; lying to him and saying that his sister was safe, yet again.

"This doesn't sound like her." Remus answered, exhaustion getting to him as he sat in front of the Black. "No little jokes, no funny tone, not even one who is clearly forced just to lighten up."

"She's in trouble." Guaranteed Regulus, pacing back and forth on the carpet like a lost cat.

The younger Black hasn't been able to sleep since he found the bed empty, desperately trying to find clues everywhere he looked. A string of her hair, her smell somewhere, anything! But no matter the effort, he'd always run into a dead end.

"We don't know that for sure, kid."

"I KNOW!" He spat, mad eyes looking at his brother.

"This could just be an attempt to get us out of the house, to go looking for her, so Death Eaters can capture us." Remus argued. "Which... is worse, because it would mean that they somehow know about her."

Regulus groaned, feeling sicker and sicker as he spoke.

"She could -possibly" Remus added, carefully stepping into the argument. "Be somewhere looking for a way to bring her parents back. I mean, she just died and got nothing on their end, she might be desesperate."

"Y/n wouldn't go without me." The young boy quickly dismissed it.

But really, he wanted to convince himself.

Was it that easy to abandon him? To leave him behind like nothing, and go run around like crazy? Because it sure wasn't easy for him to leave her.

"We should just... trust her." Sirius argued, calmly. "I trusted her enough to save my life and my little brother's, so I have to trust her enough to save her own life."

"She's too reckless."

"So we'd have to trust that she wouldn't leave us behind without a final goodbye."

Regulus swallowed thickly. The Black knew she wasn't selfish enough to survive just for herself, if it wasn't for him stopping her from bringing de death back left and right, the girl probably would've saved half the population without even thinking about the aftermaths on her health.

"We keep an eye on the news, magic and muggle, to see if we can find any clues. If she's out there messing with horcruxes, like you said before, it'll have an effect in the entire Wizarding world. If she's messing with the dead, the entire globe would feel it."

It wasn't enough for Regulus.

Staring at the news while she's out there somewhere, probably getting herself killed?

The Black sprinted downstairs, entering the basement again, trying to look for any clues, maybe a possessor he didn't notice at first, maybe a more convincing note.

He just wanted... something.

"Now that that's outta the way, keep him there." Sirius said, standing and reaching for his coat.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Save our goddaughter? And now, possibly my- my- my sister in law?" He chuckled, moving his hair into a bun. "Where else should I be going?"

"You don't actually think it's her, do you?"

The sand-haired man stared at the letter for a couple seconds, too vague, too cold. Not at all like Y/n, if it wasn't for them to go after her, as she clearly mentioned, why even bother writing a letter?

"It's a code, Moony!" He whisper-yelled, looking to the basement door, too afraid his brother would come out and ruin everything. "First letter of every sentence. It's one of the codes Prongs and I used to get each other out of trouble."

With eyes full of doubt, Remus carefully read the note again, putting letter and letter together.

"P- A- D- S- H - E - L -P - M -M " He listed. "Shouldn't it be, M and then E? Help ME?"

"No, Moons. It was always nickname, Help, and then some clue for our location."

"Did you manage to find words to spell Prongs?"

"No, I usually just scream for help."

"Makes sense." Remus shrugged, staring down at the piece of paper one more time. "So MM, stands for..."

Malfoy Manor.

A huge dark construction with dozens of rooms, in the middle of a forest, a house he used to visit when they were younger, to keep the bonds between the pureblood families alive. So much that his cousin, Narcisa, ended up marrying one.

"Never thought I'd step foot into this place again." He sighed, trying to be as careful as possible, getting inches closer to the house. "But anything for little ol Prongsie."

Truth be told, Padfoot was never one to make great plans, usually that was reserved for Prongs or Moony, he'd always be the lad to suggest just blowing everything to pieces and get on with it. But right now, he had to think carefully. If Y/n was really somewhere inside that god-awful house, possibly being held hostage, one false movement and she'd be murdered. Again.

There was a man standing tall, guarding the main door. If his eyes were correct, that was Antonin Dolohov, who he used to piss off when they were in Azkaban together, along with his oh so lovely cousin Bellatrix. That was a dead giveaway.

Lord Voldemort was there too.

"Great, we'll have a tea party while I try to negotiate my niece's life. The more the merrier." He mumbled, talking to himself, an old habit he got back after spending twelve years with basically no one to talk.

Sirius quickly transformed into his animagus form, judging it'd be safer if someone saw a dog walking around instead of a wizard who was part of the Order.

Sniffing around, he finally smelled something different from pure evil and expensive perfumes that wasn't Bella's stinky hair. The smell came from the back of the house, more specifically from a tiny window almost on the ground. The dark basement.

He yelped, keeping his distance just in case, but soon enough a forehead and eyes appeared.

"Pads!"

"What on Merlin's green underwear are you doing here?" The man whisper-yelled, now back into his original form, squatting down to take a look at her.

The girl was skinnier, with dark bags underneath her eyes, cuts with dried blood on her forehead, cheek and chin, but nonetheless there was a huge smile.

"I found my possessors!" She gestured, pointing behind her, to which Sirius could see their eyes glowing.

"That's great kid, but you still didn't answer my question."

"They still don't know about him, and they can not know." The girl said sternly. "But they do know about us hunting horcruxes down, and about me, and that's it."

So, Voldemort didn't know she could control death.

"Okay, what's the escape plan?"

Minutes later, the iron gate creaked. Sirius wasn't there anymore, leaving just a weak Y/n on a dark room with nothing but filth and oily ground.

"Y/n Potter." The man whispered, eyes wide open.

She hissed in response, "Wormtail."

"I didn't believe when they told me at first." The short guy was looking at her almost in awe, taking small steps forward. "But it really is you." Chuckling darkly, he tilted his head to the side. "I've seen that annoyed expression before, on your mother you know."

Sitting there, the girl barely blinked while looking at him. She wasn't nonchalant as usual, it was cold, stabbing daggers into his face with just her eyes.

"The dark lords demands to see you now."

His iron hand held both her wrists together tightly, bruising the already hurt flesh, to which she winced for a split of a second.

The main hall of the Malfoy Manor was mainly wiped away from the Potter's memory, hours of the Cruciatus curse making her memory blurry and unclear. Although she always remembered the arrangement: Voldemort was the only one sitting down, on what she assumed to be the fanciest armchair the Malfoys owned.

The rest of the Death Eaters stood in a parable, the dark lord being the highest point, leaving a huge empty space on the floor for her to be tortured while they hovered around her body.

"Let's try again, shall we?"

Peter dropped her arms and went to stand right beside his master's seat, opposite side to Nagini.

"I am not exactly patient, child." Voldemort started, the tip of his wand pointed right at her. "And you're not exactly giving us useful information. So if I were you I'd start talking. It wouldn't be the first time we'd torture someone until they can't move just to extract their memories, am I right?"

Just like brainless animals, the hord of wizards made laughing sounds the way they could.

"You don't even know the reason I'm here." The girl finally spoke, bringing silence to the room. "You just blindly trusted your followers that I have something important in me, but you don't have a fuck of a clue, do you? And I'm only assuming they can't explain it to you either."

"You are the sister of my greatest enemy, that is more than enough reason for me to keep you here."

"Your greatest enemy is a teenager with shitty eye sight? Man, I feel bad for you."

Her knees dropped to the floor as the sitting wizard whispered "crucio". Y/n threw her head back, gasping for air, refusing to give them the satisfaction of her screams. Bellatrix laughed uncontrollably as the girl struggled to not plant her face on the ground.

"Shut it, you insolent child." Voldemort ordered, not raising his voice. "I killed both of your parents already, and I will kill your brother, nothing is going to stop me from killing you when I think is convenient for me."

The Potter giggled like a child, hair falling in front of her face and air slowly going back to her lungs. That made the Lestrange stop her laughing and look at the girl as if she spat on her face.

"You are not going to kill me, Tom." Y/n could see a muscle twitch on Voldemort's face upon hearing that name, only expanding her smile. "I am important to you, you just don't know that yet."

"Nonsense you bitch." Busted Bellatrix, taking hard steps on her direction, wand ready, pointing at her. "The Dark Lord needs not a scavenger like you and-"

"Bella!" Was enough for the witch to stop on her tracks, a sour grimace spreading across her face as she slowly backed up next to her stop.

She's just like a puppy, a psychopath puppy, Y/n thought.

"And why are you important to me?" Voldemort asked, eyeing the girl still on the floor, slightly leaning on his seat.

"Because I am what you fear." The Potter smirked. "I can control who lives and who dies, I can reach into a dimension you're too afraid to discover, because you're frightened by death. You're frightened by me."

The Dark Lord stood up finally, raging fire behind his eyes looking down on her, and her shit eating grin on display only made things worse on his mind.

"Don't believe me?" She dared. "Choose anyone on this circle and I will kill them without using spells, and bring them back before you can say 'Crucio' again."

Suddenly, all the Death Eaters wanted to take a step back, noticing how their master was actually considering taking her word for what she could do.

Some, like Draco, did, ever so unnoticeable. Others, like Bellatrix and Yaxley, were skeptical of her possible power and stood still.

The young girl looked around, eyes scanning each one of them, landing specially on the brunette with hollow cheeks.

"Oh please, don't tell me Death Eaters are scared of death."

Infuriated, she stepped forward.

Bingo.

"I am not scared to die for the Dark Lord." Bellatrix announced, handing her sister the wand. "Do your worst."

"Oh I will." Y/n guaranteed as Voldemort took a few steps back, intrigued.

The girl reached her hand forward in the form of a claw right in front of the woman's face, in the best theatrical movement she could come up with. And with a twist of her wrist, Bellatrix Lestrange dropped to the floor without any second left, her body completely numb and frozen.

Gasps were heard all over the room, and Wormtail took three steps back. Narcisa, on the other hand, took three steps forward, squatting next to her sister. Turning her body to face up, silent whispers ran across the hall; Bellatrix's eyes were wide open, staring into nothing and not a single muscle twitched.

"She's dead."

In unison, all of the Death Eaters started taking steps back, it was magic without a wand and non verbal, without any weapons. Not a single person there had seen anything quite like it.

"Don't worry." Y/n intervened when Voldemort started gesticulating to Nagini. "I'll bring her back. That was the deal, right?"

Positioning both her forearms on each side of the woman's head, Y/n held her through the jaw and slightly opened her mouth. Getting their faces really close to each other, the Potter audibly inhaled through her mouth once, twice, thrice.

Bellatrix gasped.

Narcisa was quick to hold her in place as Y/n leaned back, smiling smugly as all the people surrounding them looked in shock. To them, the girl performed something close to a miracle right before their eyes.

Voldemort grasped his follower's face, squinting his eyes, looking for any sign that she might still be dead and it was all just a trick. But there was nothing

"I know you're probably wondering how." The girl spoke, smile not even looking like it would ever vanish from her face. "But I'm sorry. A magician never reveals his secrets."

As soon as the last word spilled from her mouth, the doors busted open, revealing a large Padfoot barking and growling next to an unconscious Dolohov, while dozens of dark figures ran around, assaulting the Death Eaters and knowcking them down.

Y/n sprinted as fast as she could, having a little help from something who just finished helping her with the theatrical demonstration. What no one had noticed, was one of the possessors Y/n owned, subtly placing himself as a dark cushion as she fell on the ground at the first Cruciatus. And with simple orders, he entered Bellatrix, killing her momentarily, just to get out moments later.

Running next to each other after being a menace, Sirius for sure missed that. He wasn't that young and prepared teenager anymore, but oh did he welcomed that adrenaline. Specially after hearing her laugh, he felt alive again.

Grabbing a piece of Padfoot's fur, they apparated far away from that horrid place.

Taglist: @intoanothermind @moonysupremacy01 @maraudersarelifee @elleraelockwood @darkenwolfie @hopesf @lukewearingbeanies @azuredgalaxies @klazina-couch-potato @goldensunshineshit @kaverichauhan @venomsvl @mrs-billyrussooo @mikadorbs @iavenderh6ze @wizardsgrace @reblog-princess @dittos-blog-dylanobrien @roroswitherose @s-we-e-t-t-ea @ok-boke @warcelia @danyxthirstae01 @b-tchymoon @lovely-maryj @the-sander-fander @regulusblackloverr @coffeeaddictednymph @quackitysdrugdealer @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @teamspideyman @artemis-the-ace @theprettytragic @loidforgerishotashell @criminalyetminimal @amortyong @qualitywitchchaos @musicconversedance @xcharlottemikaelsonx @esposadomd @e1213 @certainyouthpeanut @voodoodol7760 @ireneop @lovermoment @avadakadabra93 @musicconversedance @wildtigerlili @csifandom @noah-uhhh-what

#harry potter #regulus black #harry potter fanfiction #sirius black #remus lupin #black brothers #albus dumbledore #dumbledore #manipulating death series #order of the phoenix #regulus black x reader #regulus black fanfiction #wizarding world #dead gay wizards #the marauders #marauders

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