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last-words-ofashootingstar · 8 months

Text

Cornflower Blue

SPOOKTOBER SPECIAL

❥Yandere Outlaw Song Mingi x fem reader

➯a/n: this is my darkest fic yet imo, be sure to read the contents and take care of yourself! also im super proud of this, it took like three months tbh and i still didn't get to fit in everything i wanted to. enjoy some yandere minki 💙

✃The moonlight seeps in through the sheer curtains and paints your skin in a haze of blue. The bruise on your temple like a water color bloom.

♫ "You love me 'till you wear me out, then you love me more." -Cornflower Blue, Flower Face ♫"Love's never been more than pain, so Baby, show me how bad you hurt." -Dog Days, Ethel Cain ♫"My Babe would never fret about what my hands and my body done- if The Lord don't forgive me, I'd still have my Baby." -Work Song, Hozier ♫"I just wanted to be yours. Can I be yours? Just tell me I'm yours." - Strangers, Ethel Cain ♫

✫彡wordcount: 14k

♡'･ᴗ･'♡(ಡ‸ಡ) (>ᴗ•) genre: plot heavy smut, yandere, angst

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: GOOD LORD WHAT HAVE I DONE ??? wild west au, HEAVY yandere themes, murder, reader near death experience, mingi is CRAZY, bribery, manipulation, threatening, gun violence/shoot-out, injuries, invasion of privacy, 'off-screen' death of main characters, kidnapping, NSFW; multiple sex scenes, masterbation, unprotected(BOO), first time, head(reader receiving), size difference, spit, breeding kink, overstim, biiiiiig dick mingi (i'm a sucker😞), praise, dirty talk, soft sex turned rough, extreme possessiveness

not edited, definitely grammatical errors 🥲

⁂taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg @nini4m @senpai-of-doom

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

"Ellis~" Your sing song tone echoes out through the alleyway, crates of stored food blocking your view. "Oh, my! Is that a corn snake?" You yelled out dramatically, crouching down behind a crate.

"Where?!" The young boys voice gets closer by the second until he runs up to you and you snatch him up.

"Wraa! I got you!" He laughs loudly, an heart-full sound that rings out in the dead town. Everyone has gone besides very few to a new market up North. "I've caught you, and I'll eat you up!" You pull him up as he yells and laughs and swing him around as you twirl to the main road. "I'll have ye for supper," you laugh with your best witch-like voice.

"No, I'm not tasty!"

"No? Well... I guess I shouldn't do this then!" You playfully nom at his sweatered shoulder, tickling his ribs.

"Auntie, please, I'll do it! I'll sweep!"

You stand up like nothing ever happened and smile, "great, Miss Carmen will be most pleased." You had recruited multiple of the youngsters left behind to help you maintain the vacant homes while the market took place, and some off them were less than happy to have been roped in. "Would you like me to carry you?"

"Ye' , please!" His smile is missing a tooth, and it makes you chuckle.

You place him over your hip and begin the short walk, planning out the rest of the days chores in your head when he screams, "horsie!"

You follow the path his chubby fingers points to, and find a large figure riding in past the town sign on a similarly large white horse. His face is obscured by his large droopy hat, but that isn't what makes you suspicious at first.

The man riding into town has multiple guns on his figure.

You scramble to the side of the dirt path and hold Ellis' head to your shoulder, looking up at the stranger as he slows his horse to come to a stop right infront of you.

"Hello, Si-"

"Auntie, I'm scared." Despite your best efforts, the young boy had caught a glimpse of the towering and dangerous-looking man, shivering in your hold.

You crouch down and set him down carefully, rubbing his back for a moment before you turn him in the direction you want him to go, "run off to the schoolhouse, tell Maria to come and cook up our guest a meal. You can do that, right?"

He rubs his eyes and peeks at the man before looking back to you, nodding eagerly. "Go on and get, then." You pat his shoulder and watch him run before turning to the man.

"Room and board, Sir?" You speak formally to the hidden man.

"Yes." He speaks simply, swinging his leg and jumping down from the horse.

He's no less intimidating now that he's technically level with you. He looms over you like a shadow and places a chill in your bones. "Is this place a ghost town?" He has an accent that you can't place, but you lock onto it anyhow because it's quite clear he isn't from around here. You look away from him, trying to hide your nerves at the fact that he's the first real stranger you've ever met.

"No, Sir. Most are away to sell our spring crops." He hums shortly in response, watching you closely from under the shadow his hat casts over his eyes as you grab his horses reigns. You can feel the way his eyes bore into your every move as you begin waking, "follow me, then."

It's a silent and most awkward walk down the deserted main street, and you can still feel his gaze burning into your back as you lead his horse into the stables.

"So, where are you from, stranger?"

"Away." Your feeble attempt at small talk is shut down by the man immediately as he stands in the large doorway, broad shoulders nearly touching its sides.

"Very well," you step back out of the horse's temporary home, and are put in the shadow his large frame casts. "Uhm, my name is (Y/n)," you extend your hand, trying to remember your manners despite the fear in your gut.

He takes your hand, roughly. You can't tell if he means to- or if he's just that strong. "Mingi."

His hand is cold. It shocks you. You pull away from his grip and push past him, head lowered. You've quickly found that you don't enjoy strangers. "Miss Maria can help you get settled, show you around if you like. Nothin' much to do 'round here besides drink or play ball." You ramble on as you head to the bar, just down the road. You don't have to look behind you to know he's following. You can feel his gaze locked in on your back, that same feeling you get when men at the bar have one too many or that time when a wild boar almost got you.

The bar isn't anything special, though nothing in the town is really. He looks around, silently. A few wooden booths and rickety tables. A pool table. A small island that separates the main floor and the bartenders area. Beyond that, he can see a kitchen. He almost thought his luck had run out when he rode into the seemingly deserted town, and then he saw you twirling the young boy into the main road.

He nods his head, maybe subconsciously, to say he's pleased enough to stay. "Up this way," your voice echoes in the empty space, and you touch his arm ever so lightly to get his attention. The staircase is hidden by the corner, and he has to crouch to ascend them. When he does, he's pleasantly surprised.

The room has a homey, lived in feel to it. Well, most of it. It's a large space, walls decorated with dried flowers and boxed in dead insects, chalk drawings of all kinds of things on the dark oak walls. There's a slanted shelf that's adorned with carved wooden trinkets and toys, most of which have a small layer of dust if he looks hard enough. A large open window is on the back wall, facing the town, and a dresser that fits perfectly under it. The bed on the left side of the dresser is messy, a large fur blanket that's bundled up to expose pristine white sheets.

The part that doesn't look as lived in is on the right side of the dresser. An fresh lantern candle placed neatly on the made bed, dark red sheets and grey comforter.

"I hope you don't mind a roommate... I'm not here for the most part, I won't be in your hair." You're shuffling around quickly, hiding a few things that he didn't get to inspect into the left side of the dresser. "You can," you gulp, clearly uncomfortable with the silent man, "you can put your things away in these drawers if you like."

He stands, like a scarecrow, holding his rucksack tightly. When he moves, you flinch, sliding closer to what he now placed together is your bed. He chooses to ignore that, sitting down on the other bed and feeling the soft fabric. "You own this place?"

You're taken aback by his unprovoked speaking, gathering you thoughts as you sit across from him on your own bed. "Uh, no. A man named Louis owns this and the bar."

"Hm. And you?"

"I work down in the bar, bartending and such. So he lets me stay."

A small smirk plays at his lips, hidden by his hat as he looks around again. You've clearly lived here a long while. There's more to your story than just working downstairs. "Kind of him."

"Very. You may be able to thank him for his hospitality, he gets back in a few days." You pause for a moment before you ask tentatively, "how long will you be staying?"

He stands and turns his back to you as he takes off his hat, beginning to unpack his bag. "Few weeks maybe."

"Ah," you draw quietly, anxiety growing in your gut. The very few visitors you could remember stayed for only days, if that. Even then, they weren't total strangers. They were people that others in town knew from the market or city.

"Hope you don't mind a roommate," he turns back around and tosses a look your way as he starts to fold his clothing into the unoccupied drawers. And if the air wasn't gone from your lungs by now, it is now. This stranger, Mingi, is the most handsome being you've ever laid your eyes upon.

His eyebrows are softly arched, beautifully curved nose and lips. And his eyes- oh, his eyes. You swear you could get lost in them. And it seems you do, staring at the man despite the fact your intuition is telling you to look away. "Handsome, I know."

A heat flushes your face and you force yourself to look away as he smirks your way, "w-well, you know, uh- let me go and fetch Miss Maria, you must be famished!"

With that, you're down the stairs and out the bar. He watches as you speed walk away through the window, blissfully unaware that he's opened up your drawers to have a deeper look into his roommate.

༄

You dodged the handsome stranger until you no longer could, the sun was setting and there were no more excuses to be found to avoid going back home. He wasn't in the room when you returned, but the bathroom door was closed and you could see the flickering of a candle from the cracks.

You lit a few candles on the dresser before the sun fully set, taking some deep breaths as you heard him moving around. You remove your boots, a groan of relief settling behind your lips as you wiggle your toes.

As you're unfolding your night gown, the door to the bathroom creaks open. "Hello, Miss," he greets, much warmer than his earlier aura.

"Mingi," you greet back with a small smile, "have you found your way around well?" You shift your weight uncomfortably as he tilts his head at you, as if he's trying to read you.

"Mhm, this ghost town isn't as bad as I thought," he sits down on his bed, rolling his head with a groan.

"Very good, maybe when the other return you'll find it even better." You can't wait for the day. His presence makes you... uneasy, is the best way to put it. You know he could easily over power you and the others. Elderly, young, and women who don't have a single idea of self defense. Maybe that was stupid on your towns part- but you needed all of the hands on deck to sell the bountiful harvest.

You excuse yourself and lock the bathroom door behind you, double checking before you begin to remove your day clothes. As you change, you start to wonder if maybe Mingi was just uncomfortable around strangers as well. He's seemed to have warmed up quite a bit to you. You'll have to ask Maria in the morning about their encounter.

Perhaps he won't be as bad as you expected- "Oh, dear me!" You stumble as you re-enter the room, covering your eyes with your hands. "Uhm, Mingi?"

"I'm just cleaning my wound," he chuckles, watching you with a glint in his eyes.

You peek through your fingers, keeping your hands to your face to hide.

Indeed, he's shirtless. Your eyes hadn't played a trick on you.

You swallow the gathering wetness in your mouth as you peer at his naked torso. He's slim, toned in all the right places. His arms are something of a dream to you, and you have to force yourself to look away from them as sinful thoughts begin growing in your mind.

Instead, you take a look at the wound he referred to. A shallow gash going from his hip around and around to his back. The edges of it are already scarring, leaving only the middle of it as a wound.

You slowly approach the end of his bed, hands resting on the metal bed frame. "May I ask?"

"Every man his enemies. Mine happen to be good with throwing knives."

"Is that why you carry all those weapons?" The question has been nagging you. He has so many. And you don't like them. You don't like that they are in your home. He's left them on his side of the dresser.

"Perhaps." He groans as he tries to reach around and clean the part of the cut that stretches onto his back. "Would... would you be so kind, (Y/n)?"

It's your turn to be the silent type. You move to sit beside him, taking the damp rag and jar of salve with shaking hands. You haven't been this close to him until now. You haven't been this close to any man, really.

He smells shockingly good.

He shivers as you begin cleaning up his wound, and you apologize under your breath.

Unbeknownst to you, that was not a shiver of pain.

He's always been the nosy type. He couldn't help himself but try to get to know you through your belongings while you were gone. And he struck a pot of gold when he found your diary.

The entries dated back seven years. And he read through all seven of them. With every word, he became more and more infatuated with you. And your touch on his body solidified that infatuation. It felt right. Your innocent, helping touch turned his infatuation into something more sinister.

So, no. It was not a shiver of pain.

"There you go," you can't help but stroke the large expanse of his back once you've finished, it's a work of art. Thankfully, he doesn't seem to notice.

But, oh, does he. He has to bite his lip to hold back a moan, looking down at his lap. His member twitching to life from the smallest, most pure of your touches. "Thank you kindly." He forces out, breathily.

You're in your own bed much to quickly for his liking, hiding under your blanket. "Goodnight, Mingi. I shall see you in the morning."

༄

"Hello, stranger," you smile at him as steps out of the building, earning one back. "Slept well, I hope?"

"Very, thank you." He takes a seat on the steps of the bar next to you and watches the sun grow higher in the sky. "May I ask you a personal question, (Y/n)?"

"I suppose so," you shift slightly, toying with the strings on your boots. While your knees are pulled up to the step just below your bottom, his feet stretch all the way off of the steps and onto the dirt.

"Where is your family?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Well... it's just, you're a beautiful young woman. Don't you have a husband and a couple of rug-rats?"

"Rug-rats," you repeated with a chuckle, shaking your head. "No, no rug-rats."

"And a husband?"

"The closest I have to a husband is Castle... my mutt." You look to him with a bigger smile, your nerves and anxiety around him unwinding. When he laughs, you feel a flutter in your stomach that makes them disappear completely.

You turn back to the sun as it rises, trying to convince yourself that the heat you feel on your cheeks is from the warmness of it. "Why do you ask?"

He hums, leaning back on his elbows and allowing his eyes to flick up and down as they observe you. "Wanted to know my chances."

"Oh!" You look back at him, his eyes shining with that glint once more, "the cow boy is a flirt? I see."

"I'm not a cowboy."

"No?" You lean back and join him, crossing your legs. Maria had told you just earlier that he was strange, that she sensed a darkness about him. But you only felt warmth and light. "What are you then, Mingi?"

"An outlaw." The smirk on his lips makes you think he's joking, and you let out a laugh.

If only you knew that Mingi was being truthful.

༄

The wagons roll into town the next morning, bright and early. You're still asleep when the first one comes, but the happy hollering from Maria wakes you and Mingi both with a start.

He's dazed and confused, rolling around and glaring at at ceiling above him. While you, well you nearly jump out of your skin to run downstairs.

Still in your nightgown and soft socks, you almost slip and fall as you jump off of the last stair and slide into the main area. "Lou!" You collide into him and sway happily as the older man lifts you up in his arms.

"There's my girl! You been holdin' us down?" He sets you down carefully and inspects you, making sure you've been kept safe in his time away.

"You know I have," you give him a wide and toothy smile, "how was the new market?"

"Oh, it was wonderful, dear! Next time I should take you both with me, so many new things," he reaches into his satchel, handing his wife something small and shiney.

Mingi, in his own sleep clothes- a loose pair of pants, slowly descends the stairs, silent as a mouse as he watches the three of you.

Miss Maria, the older woman with a scarf permanently affixed to her head, looks down at the ring with a teary smile. "Oh, Louis, you shouldn't have." You lift yourself up and sit on one of the tables, watching the two kiss with a small smile.

"Why shouldn't I? A man is meant to spoil his wife, isn't that what I always say? Besides, we made quite the profit this time around." His wrinkled hand cups her cheek, and you can't help but coo at their affection.

"Y'all are too stinkin' cute." Maria looks away bashfully, admiring the ring on her hand. While Louis turns to you with a smile, which fades as quickly as it came.

"And who is this?" His hand is on his belt, twitching at his pistol as he spots Mingi coming up behind you. You turn, and then back, moving his hand away from his weapon.

"That's Mingi, he got here a few days ago. A traveler." You don't know if that last part is necessarily true. Mingi never did tell you why he was passing by your isolated town. "He's quite alright."

"He's half naked- and so are you! Young lady-"

"Lou!" Maria is flabbergasted by what he seems to be implying, while you don't seem to see the innuendo. Of course you are? You just awoke.

Mingi stays silent, and simply extends his hand to Louis. When he doesn't take it, he puts it back to his side, joining you at the table. It seems to you that Mingi is indeed weary of strangers. He seems only comfortable with you. Yesterday, he followed you around almost like a lost dog. Insisting that he wanted to help you with your daily chores.

His eyes flick down to your chest. Sure, he's seen you in your nightgown. But that was in the moon or candle light. The sunlight from the many bar windows exposes just how sheer it is. He can see your nipples if he looks hard enough. And, oh, he's looking.

And Louis notices, ears flushing red with anger as the strange traveler looks you up and down. "Alright, dear, go get dressed."

"Oh, but I wish to hear of the market! Unc-"

"Now, (Y/n)."

With a sigh, you slide off of the table, patting Mingis exposed shoulder as you pass him. He goes to follow you back upstairs when Louis grips his wrist. Hard.

Maria is fiddling with her new ring, almost cowering behind her husband as she feels Mingis aura once again. She can't seem to pinpoint why. But she doesn't like this man one bit. He's done nothing to her, to anyone for that matter. But she feels an evilness seep from his gaze.

"Have a seat, Mingi." Louis doesn't seem to like him either. Maybe because of his silent demeanor or the way he was ogling you.

He does so, with a bored expression, plopping down on one of the wooden booths. Louis slides into the booth seat across from him, waving Maria off. She doesn't need to be told twice. She doesn't want to be near that man for one second more than necessary.

Alone in the seating area, the two men stare silently at one another. As if sizing each other up.

Louis is the first one to break, reaching into his pocket. A rusted old locket is slid across the scratched table top, and Mingi catches it before it falls into his lap.

As he opens it up, he sees a picture of two people in either of the slots. One, a woman with a wide smile. The other, a man looking down at the baby held to his chest. Their features seem... familiar.

"Her parents."

He looks up slowly, and sees the older man leaning back, "I'm sorry?"

"Those are her parents. My little sister and her husband. Died seven years ago. Train crash. Hit a cow on the tracks. Hate those damned things. They can't slow down quick enough to avoid hittin' something."

It's silent again, save for the sounds of Maria cooking up a storm in the back of the kitchen.

He looks down at the pictures again. Seven years ago... that's when your diary entries start. But you never mentioned the crash. Did you just decide to forget about it? Move on?

Louis can almost see the cogs turning in his brain as he looks at the worn photo. Before Mingi can ask, Louis is answering. "I seen the way you looked at my little girl. The same way I look at my Maria. So Imma tell you," he points to the locket, "I made a promise the day that train crashed. You know what that promise was?"

"No."

"That I'd gut anyone who ever laid an evil finger on that girl."

"Maria!" They hear you coming back down, and Louis snatches up the locket from Mingis hands as he stands. You stop briefly and look at them, but move on when you see Louis smiling down at him. "Have you seen my vest?" Your voice grows distant as you join your Aunt in the kitchen, unaware that the smile was followed by a threat.

"Don't make me gut you, boy."

༄

"You're so soft," you mutter as you brush the white mare with your fingers, stood just outside of her stable. She neighs loudly at you. "Oh, I know. So many strange horses, you must be frightened."

The once empty stable house was now filled again, everyone was back in town by high-noon. She seems like her owner, and like you. She doesn't like strangers. She nearly kicked the short door down when you approached with a handful of hay.

A few minutes later, she's letting you pet her. You're stood on a stool, bent over the edge of the door to dust the dirt off of her white coat. "You're a sweet girl, huh?" You smile at the animal, receiving more neighs in response.

"Who you talking to?"

The abrupt interruption makes you stumble, nearly falling off of the wobbly stool. You steady yourself on the door and look back, throwing a smile his way when you see it's Mingi. "Your horse."

He joins your side at the door, holding his hand out to his mare. "You know she can't talk back, right?"

"Don't mean she can't listen."

He smiles at your response. You really are a kind soul, giving affection to an animal that can't give you anything in return.

"Busy, Miss (Y/n)?"

You shake your head. Nobody has come by the bar yet, and you don't think anyone will for a while. They're all spending time with their families.

"How about a ride, then?" He's opening up the door before you can respond, making your upper body follow it, legs outstretched to stay on the stool.

"Oh- I don't... I don't know how."

He keeps putting the saddle on the horse despite your words, a smile playing at his lips. By the way your smiling as well, he knows you want to. "I can teach you. Are you afraid?"

"I must admit... a bit."

"Don't worry, I won't let you fall."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

You hop down from the stool and move it out of the way as Mingi walks the mare out of her stable, following close behind him with a wide smile. You get a few strange looks from townspeople as you and the towering stranger stop in the middle of the main dirt road.

One pair of eyes watches you even closer. Louis stands from his rocking chair on the porch of the bar, staring dumbfounded as Mingi picks you up and helps you onto the animal. Jaw dropped as he hops up and sits in the saddle right behind you, hands guiding yours to hold the reigns. Before he can even get off of the porch, the both of you are galloping out of town.

The cool October air against your face as you slowly gain speed feels freeing, like it's washing your very soul. Your nerves are still shaking a bit, and you lean your back into Mingis chest, holding onto the reigns tightly. You jump ever so slightly when one of his hands rests over your stomach, gently holding you.

"Don't worry," he says, "I've been riding since I was a child."

And so, you don't worry. You let the freeing feeling wash over you, relaxing into him and letting the mare take you where ever she pleases. Which just so happens to be the furthest you can ever remember being from town. You nearly forget that Mingi is even with you until you feel his hand move away from your stomach.

He grabs the reigns, his hand over yours as he pull her head back carefully, slowing her to a stop in the middle of a field. He pulls your hands back with his and settles them in your lap, atop of your bundled up skirts.

She lowers her head and starts chewing on some of the green grass. You look up at the sky, clear and bright.

"Not so scary, right?" Mingi speaks up gently, his hands never leaving your own as he looks up at the baby blue with you.

"Not at all, though maybe it's because you did all of the work," you let out a small laugh, turning your hands palms up and letting him weave his fingers into yours, enveloping you in warmth. "Is this what your life is like?"

The endless expanse of nature staring back at you, birds chirping their lovely songs.

"For the most part." He doesn't want to tell you about the other parts of his life. The bloody and harsh parts. You don't need to hear about that. Not when you're so pure and soft in comparison.

"I like it. I can see why you don't settle, cowboy."

"I'm not a cowboy."

A grin on both your faces, a comfortable silence overcomes you for a moment. He leans and slowly, almost nervously, rests his forehead on your shoulder. When you don't make a move to lean away, he absolutely melts into you. His heart beating loudly in his ears, he's shocked you haven't looked back to look for a marching band with how loud it is.

"I think I may stay a little while longer," he whispers tenderly into your back.

"I think I may like that."

You revel in each others touch for a few more moments before he moves, scooting back away from your backside. "Let's stretch our legs." Before you can complain, he's jumped off the horse and is holding out his arms for you. Deciding 'why not', you lean over and let him essentially pull you off her back.

You stretch your arms over your head as you wander, smiling back at him.

Oh, he could get addicted to that smile.

Directed at him, and him alone.

He watches with a flicker in his eyes as you start gathering wild flowers, folding up the rim of his hat to get a better look. You start braiding them together, fingers working nimbly. The song of nature overcoming you as you work, and he admires from a few feet away.

You look like an angel, the sun beaming down on you and shining from behind you like a halo as you turn and face him. "Crouch down, big boy," you tease him softly, a heat creeping up your face as you see him blushing.

He leans down, letting you affix the flowers around his hat. When he comes back up, he does a small twirl, "how do I look?"

"Pretty!" It slips your lips before you have the chance to think, and it makes him blush all the harder.

"Let me see," he takes his hat off, short hair wild and blowing with the breeze.

He pulls the hat over your head in the next second, and the large accessory falls over your eyes. He laughs, hand over his mouth as you tilt your head up and peek at him from under the rim. "How do I look?"

"Like a doll," he exclaims breathlessly, eyes not leaving you for a single second as he takes in the sight of you in his hat. The wind blowing your loose hairs and skirts. A shy smile stretching your lips as you look away, admiring the sky as he admires you.

"Oh, hush."

"It's only true." He comes behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders loosely.

You have to remember how to breath as he looks over your shoulder at you, shit-eating-smirk on his lips. "Doll~"

"We should head back!" You squeal, ducking out of his arms as heat overwhelms your body. He only laughs, and the melodic sound echoes in the field.

"Alright then, up you get," he hoists you back onto the saddle, hands lingering on your exposed thighs as your skirt pools around your hips while he hooks his boot into the stirrup.

And you're off again, this time slowly. Like he knows that you crave to spend time with him as much as he does you.

༄

It's a few days later when he awakes in the night. The moon his only source of light. His breaths uneven and heavy.

Why did he have to wake up? That dream was ethereal, it nearly made him ascend to the heavens.

He groans as he flips onto his stomach, not a atom of shock in his being as he feels his hardness pressing into the mattress. Not after he just experienced the wettest dream of his life.

You looked like a Goddess below him, head tossed to the side and exposing all of the marks he left on your neck. The bed rocked in time with the yells of his names that left your bruised lips. Over and over. Louder and louder. Your eyes rolled back, your chest rising and falling as you tried desperately to keep up with his pace.

He's certain that's your rightful place, taking his cock and calling his name, soul intertwined with his. "Fuck..." Just six days and you have him wrapped around your little finger. He's never felt like this. You must be the one.

He can't help but look over at your bed across the room as his hand travels into his pants. His eyes nearly flutter shut, but he forces them open once again.

You're a restless sleeper, he's discovered. Your torso is pressed into the mattress while your hips are rotated slightly up, one leg hiked up and making your nightgown slip past the round of your ass.

God, your subconscious must know what he's doing.

That's the only 'reasonable' conclusion Mingis lustful mind can come to as you moan in your sleep, rolling onto your back and spread your legs to get comfortable. It takes every fiber of self control in him not to pounce on you and take you right there.

He's content to fuck himself silly for the moment, and he's almost ashamed at how fast his release comes- but he can't help it. You look so fucking delectable and he hasn't touched himself since before he rolled into town.

He bites into his pillow with a growl, eyes never leaving your peaceful form until he's overstimulated himself into oblivion. His arm sore and cock even sorer, he finally lets up, breathing heavily into the quiet night.

As he slinks to the bathroom and cleans himself up, he wonders what it would be like to feel your body close to him after such a release. Well-

Why not find out?

He leans over your bed with tears in his eyes, gently grabbing your arm and calling out to you.

"Min?" The nickname that you utter while half asleep almost has him ready to go again, but he pushes it away as you sit up groggily and look at him with concern written on your face.

"I don't feel too well, Doll... Can I sleep with you? Keep me warm?"

You feel his head with the back of your hand, a frown on your face as you feel his heated flesh- unknowing of the true cause.

"Mh, come on, big boy," you scoot to the wall that your beds on and lift your fur blanket, a sleepy smile on your features as he dives into the bed. The metal frame creaks under both of your weight but neither of you pay it any mind.

He melts into your body heat, wrapping his arms around your waist and keeping you close.

It's so much better than he imagined.

༄

That's the best sleep you've ever had. You felt so safe and warm. And Mingi doesn't feel any different, he hasn't had a restful sleep like that since he was only a boy. You seem to have kept his reoccurring nightmares of his past away.

All the damage he's done and all the pain he's endured, wiped away as you rested your head on his shoulder.

Your legs are tangled together, arms wrapped around one another. Your head in his neck and his chin resting gently on top of it. Soft, gentle breaths as the both of you wake.

Rain beats down on the roof, creating a soft and steady melody.

Neither of you can tell how much time has elapsed, but it doesn't seem like it's ever enough. So when you finally sit up, a pout forms on his features.

You feel his forehead, a smile on yours. "No fever."

"Hm, maybe a night bug." He sits up and swings his legs over the bed, facing into the room to hide his growing blush as the memories of his dream flood his mind.

He feels the bed shift under your weight as you crawl up behind him. "I had a dream last night," you whisper as you gently rub up his back.

"Mh?"

"Mhm." Your heart flutters as you muster up the courage to continue speaking, "a dream of you and I."

"Oh, do tell."

And tell, you do.

"Well... it began with you and I, sat in the bar. A few too many drinks in our bodies. A few kisses... A few touches... and then we came up here." His breath hitches in his throat, surely he's still dreaming. This is an elaborate trick of the brain. "Mingi?"

"Y-yes?" He wants to both explode with joy and collapse with embarrassment.

"Will you touch me? Will you kiss me? I'm sorry if that's wildly inappropriate- oh it is, I'm so ter-"

Your rambling is cut off as his lips collide with yours ever so softly. One of his hands cups your cheek, the other finds purchase on the small of your back.

He slowly pushes his weight onto you, laying you down on your back as your lips meld together. A curse falls past his lips as you ghost your fingertips over his abs.

He kisses down your jaw, savoring every inch of your skin until he reaches your covered breasts. He looks up, and the look in his eyes makes the heat in your belly grow ten-fold. "Can I see you?"

With the slightest nod of your head, he's slipped the straps of your nightgown down and tugged it down past your chest. His mind is racing. His heart is about to beat out of his chest. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He whispers, voice rough and barely heard over the storm raging outside.

His calloused hands trail down your chest, ghosting over the pebbled flesh on your breast and down to your skirt. You can't help the gasp that escapes you when he lifts it up, letting your entire nightdress rest in a bunch on your stomach. He's already panting, and he hasn't even touched you.

You're just so beautiful. You're a Goddess in his eyes.

He smiles up at you as he lowers himself, your legs spread by his wide shoulders. "I'm going to make you cum your brains out, Doll~"

Before you can even question what he means, his tongue is darting out and swiping up the length of your cunt. "Ah!" Your back is arched off the bed at the simple motion, and it solidifies his theory that you're a virgin. Your keening at the littlest bit of attention, your poor neglected pussy is begging for more.

You slap your hand over your mouth at the noise, looking shocked that it even came from you. He can't help the chuckle that vibrates in his throat- that is, before his taste buds register the most delicious, mind blowing juice he's ever had the pleasure of putting in his mouth. "Oh, fuck..." Then he's just as flustered as you are, diving back in between your thighs like a man starved.

The little noises that manage to slip past your hand urge him on even more than the way that your wetness just keeps coming and coming and coming as he slurps it all up. His tongue darts and licks and rolls all over you, and you can't even register all of the pleasure you're getting from it- it feels that good.

He slips his arms under your thighs and grips them tightly to ground himself as he allows himself to drown in you. He lets his instincts do all of the work, enjoying himself more than he ever has. His nose nudges against your clit as he slurps noisily.

The way you taste. The way you smell. The way you sound. The way you feel.

All of it. All of you. He's going mad with lust. With love. He's going to explode, he truly believes it. And then you call his name.

"Mingi—"

So sweet and desperate, absolute music to his red hot ears as he sucks the bundle of nerves above your sopping wet heat. He doesn't even register that you've cum all over his chin until youre tugging at his hair roughly and forcing him away from your throbbing pussy.

He moans out loud as you harshly pull him away, jaw dropped as he pants. "You taste so good, Doll," he slurs drunkenly. Your essence has gotten him drunker than any alcohol ever could.

You're panting even heavier, chest rising and falling quickly as you tremble in the aftershocks of your first orgasm that's come from another person.

He rubs his finger tips over your thighs gently, luring you back down to Earth as he gawks at you. You swear that there's hearts in his shining eyes.

"W-" your attempt at words comes out as jumbled whine, and you let yourself fall back into the pillow.

"It's okay, Baby," he coos, licking his lips as he sits up, folding his legs under him and pulling your limp hips into his lap.

The new nickname makes your cunt twitch, and he catches it. "Oh, you like that, hm?" His index and middle finger spread you wide, and he purses his lips- spitting directly onto your sensitive hole. "C'mon, talk to me, pretty Baby."

"G-god!" You cry out embarrassedly, forever thankful for the angry storm outside that hides your sounds from any neighbors. "Yes, I do, I really do," you draw out, grabbing the sides of his thighs as he teases your entrance. You're still hyper sensitive, twitching with every small movement he makes.

And he absolutely revels in it.

"Yeah? I bet no one ever made you feel that good before," he smirks, letting another wad of spit hit your hole.

"Nuh-uh," you shake your head, peering up at him, and your next words make it hard for him to keep his composure. "Stay. Stay here and- and fuck me."

Little do you know, after that first night- he lost any plans he had of ever leaving.

"I will never leave you," and he means it. He has no plans of ever letting you go. And he's about to let you know that.

He slides you back off his lap and lays over you, holding your head with one hand as the other guides his leaking tip into you. "Oh, ngh," you whine, holding onto his biceps tightly. He bites his lips as he feels your walls for the first time. So warm and tight around him. So soft. "M-min, be gentle," you whimper, leaning up and hiding in his chest.

"Don't worry, Doll, we'll go slow" he strokes your head gently, slowly -oh, so slowly- sinking into your tight core. "Such a pretty little thing, so fuckin' tight f'me," he growls, and again as the noise makes you clench around him. "Gonna have to stretch your little pussy out before I can even move, you've got me in a fucking vice, Baby."

"Mingi, d-don't talk like that, it's dirty," you pant into his chest, the warm air making goosebumps form.

"Well, look at you," he nearly purrs, pulling your head back from his chest gently, "look." You blink a few times, taking in the sinful scene.

Your legs spread around his slowly moving hips. His thick monster of a cock gradually disappearing into your stretched folds.

"Can't not be dirty while we're breaking in this cute little cunt," he says matter-of-factly, looking down at said cunt while it clenches around the half of his cock that's he's managed to sink in. A lewd moan leaves his parted lips, looking back to you as you whimper and fidget. "Hey, hey," he coos, cupping your face in his palms. "Half way there, Doll. How's it feel?"

"Like you're gonna split me in half," you ramble out, looking up at him with the softest eyes he's ever seen. "Please, c-can we take a break? You're jus' so big..."

"Of course, sweet girl," he leans down, careful to keep his hips locked despite how badly he just want to slam into your welcoming heat, and kisses you. Stroking your cheek bones with his thumbs. "You feel so good, like heaven."

The praise makes your rapidly beating heart skip a beat. "Mingi?"

"Yes," he moans in response, looking deep into your eyes.

"I think I'm falling in love with you." The sudden confession makes his cock twitch, his heart jumping into his throat. "Is that silly?"

He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, which are admittedly a chaotic mess.

"If it is, we would be silly together."

"You mean-"

"Yes."

You grip his shoulders and lean up, pressing your lips to his in an act of pure desire. The both of you get lost in each other, tongues darting out and lapping at one another like a lifeline.

Sufficiently covered in each others spit, you pull back. "Keep going, I want to take all of you." You have a newfound confidence after your short trade of admissions, demanding that he go on and fuck you.

A few more moments of excruciating stretching pass when you suddenly feel his pelvis flush with your clit, both of you panting like wild animals as you feel each other completely.

"Holy shit, Baby," he sneers, resting his face in the crook of your neck, taking in deep breaths of your scent to keep himself from jack hammering into you. You are truly the best thing to ever happen to him, and your cunt molding into the shape of him is just a bonus.

There are no words that you can find in your brain. All if it is wiped away as you feel his rock hard cock stretching you out, filling you wall to wall. When he breaths out, a content sigh into your neck, you feel the veins on his length pressing into your gummy walls. "Hah~" Is all you can manage, thoughts turned into mush as he begins to slowly pull back out- just an fraction of an inch. Before sliding back in quickly. "Fuck!"

"Doll, please, please," he whimpers, holding onto your waist tightly as he rolls his hips, "please say you're ready, I don't know how long I can take it."

"Y-" the second the first syllable is utter from your lips, he's already pulled out half way, "yes!" He thrust back in, steady and slow at first.

Words are lost between you - minds absolutely flooding with hormones as he begins thrusting harder, faster. Moans, groans, loud whimpers. The slapping of your skin is so loud that even the rain pounding at the window can't drown it out.

He's stuffing you beyond your wildest imagination. His cock was made to stretch you so deliciously, and your pussy was made to take it.

It's his dream coming to life, quite literally, as your eyes roll back to the depths of your head and you're squeezing him tighter than before. It's almost impossible for him to keep thrusting, but he finds a way.

He grips your hips tight and is making you bounce on his cock effortlessly, all the while pounding his hips into yours. He's so deep inside of you, it feels like he can feel the same coil in your gut that you do. And it's about shatter.

He slips a hand down and begins swirling his fingers over your clit, pushing you off the edge roughly, making you cream over his member with a broken yell of his name. He leans in, all of his weight on you as fucks you through it harshly. His lips right next to your ear.

"You. Are. Mine."

And with that, a warmth like no other spreads inside of you.

༄

Nearly two months passed like they were nothing, days seemed to fly with you by his side.

He felt he finally had a place where he belonged.

He found himself work cleaning peoples guns in the bar, even selling and trading some.

He had a bed to go to at the end of the day. After that first time together, you both rearranged the room. Pushing your beds together under the window and putting the dresser on the wall.

He had the other half of his soul. You. He knew everything there was to know about you, and you knew everything there was to know about him. Well- all he was willing to tell. Sometimes, there was a dark glint in his eyes that made you feel like you didn't know the full story of the man you shared your life with. But all doubt faded away when he smiled at you.

All was well- more than well. It was perfect.

Until a group of strangers rode into town. Strangers to the town. But strangers to Mingi, they were not.

He walked into the bar and Mingis heart stopped. He saw all of his hard work to get you, to settle, to make a life- all of it- vanish. It disappeared.

"Fuck me," he groans, keeping his head low and cursing himself for not wearing his hat today. He hopes that he'll go unnoticed. But that hope is squashed when the man slides into the booth across from him.

"Well, slap my ass and call me Pamela. Song Mingi!" The rowdy man immediately catches Louis' attention from behind the bar.

"Why are you here, Buck?" Mingi keeps his tone low, hostile.

"You know why I'm here. You want in?" The man, Buck, has a smirk playing mischievously on his lips.

"No. You, and whoever else you drug into this town are leaving. This town is off limits."

Buck lets out a shrill chuckle, "says who?"

"Says me. This is my town. Get the fuck out before I shoot you." Mingi growls, placing his pistol on the table, finger twitching at the trigger.

That gets Louis' full attention, his hand immediately unlocking the safety on his gun as he makes his way over. "Mingi, who's your friend?" He hates to admit, but he's grown fond of Mingi over these long winter days.

"He's leaving. Ain't that right?" Mingi tilts his head at Buck, who takes a look around. Multiple patrons of the bar have their hands on their guns, ready to draw.

He isn't stupid. Mingi is apart of these people now and they'll protect him.

"Yeah, that's right." He slides out of the booth, giving Mingi a seemingly innocent smile. But Mingi knows him all too well. "I'm glad you finally found yourself a nice girl to settle down with."

With that finally threatening congratulations, he's back out the bar the way he came. Mingi watches from the window with wide eyes as he joins the posse of men outside. As soon as they start wandering away, looking into shops and other such buildings Mingi has come to be so fond of, he snaps into action.

He runs up the stairs, nearly bumping his head. They've been casing the town, that's the only way he'd know about you.

"Mingi!" Louis follows after him, slowed by age.

He finds him reaching under the bed, staring bamboozled as he places gun after gun after gun into the mattress. "Mingi!"

He ignores the panicking man, loading all of them up. "Son!" His head snaps up, tears threatening his waterline.

"Louis, they're going to raid the town."

"What...?"

"I don't have time to explain, I have to go- go get (Y/n). You need to gather everyone who knows how to shoot. I n-"

"Boy, I don't care much for nonsense."

"Listen to me, Louis!" He clearly panicked, an expression he's never seen from him before. "What reason do I have to lie? This is my home too! This is my home and my woman, and I'll be damned if I let Buckey fuck-face and his thugs ruin it!" In his panic, Mingi doesn't notice the ring that falls from his bag as he gets out more ammunition.

Louis bends down next to Mingi and picks it up, puzzle pieces falling together in his mind.

Mingi snatches it back and shoves it in the bag.

"You're gonna propose to my little girl?"

"Not if we all die," Mingi responds shortly, shoving an armful of guns into Louis.

They share a look.

It seems Mingi made a similar promise to himself about you.

"Go and fetch her, don't raise any suspicion. If the townspeople know what's coming, it'll start a panic."

Mingi gives him a short nod. To say yes, sir. To say thank you.

He keeps his head down, hat covering his face as he weaves his way to the very back of the town. Trying his damnedest to avoid everyone from his past.

When he successfully makes it to the river, he spots you and is filled with relief.

You hum quietly to yourself, bundled up in his large poncho to protect yourself from the frigid January weather as you clean your clothes.

The harsh winds whip your loose hairs around, makes the clothes on the line flap loudly.

"(Y/n)!"

"Hey, Darlin-" He pulls you up, holding you close to his side as he drags you away, "what're you doing?"

"Just keep your head down, when we get back to the bar, go to our room, lock yourself in the bathroom. Okay?"

"Min, you're scarin' me..."

"Do you understand?" He asks firmly, stopping at the edge of town, turning you to face him.

He looks deadly serious. You haven't seen this kind of look since the first day you met. So you nod, committing what he said to memory.

"I love you," he kisses you deeply, shortly.

And then he drags you through town, and into the bar. But he pushes you right behind him when you walk in.

Buck has Miss Maria and Louis tied up, pushed to the floor. The few patrons are gone, and the yelling outside tells him Louis' plan to keep things calm has failed. Multiple men are rummaging around the bar, cleaning out the register. He can't hear any noise above them, and he's thankful that the entrance to your small home is so well hidden by the corner.

He feels you grip the back of his leather jacket, and he's about to turn and tell you to run when he feels you get ripped away.

Your scream echos in the building as one of Bucks men tears you away, and Mingi has to stop himself from shooting the man the second he puts his hands on you. Doing that will just get you all killed.

He's deadly silent as he watches the man toss you to the floor. His gun was drawn the second you got tore away, and he's itching to use it.

You try to scramble away, but Buck comes up behind you and places his boot on your back, shoving you back down with a thud. Maria is sobbing uncontrollably into her hands, Louis' jaw is locked in anger as he looks away.

He bends down, putting more pressure on your spine. He grips your hair and turns your face to the side. "Well, well," he smirks, "you're even prettier up close, ain't you?"

Everyone stops in their tracks as you spit in his face. "Fuck you!" One of the men closest to you has a gun to your head in the next second, but you refuse to break.

"Feisty, I like that," he shoves your head to the floor, hitting it against it roughly. Mingi is seeing red as the world around him resumes, men ransacking the bar and chortling at your family. His family.

"Buck."

"Oh?" He turns, leaving you on the floor, "got something to say, pansy?"

"Yeah." His eyes flick to yours as you push yourself up dizzily, and over to one of the booths before Buck even realizes he's looked away. "You need a key for the safe. I gonna give it to you, and youre gonna take it and leave."

"Is that so? That's what's gonna happen?"

"That's what's gonna happen."

"You really lost your guts, aye? Found a nice girl and a cozy town and decided you're too good for this life, I see."

Mingi slips his pistol back into its holster on his hip, sauntering over to the bar with all eyes on him. He stands infront of Maria and Louis, shielding them from what's about to come. "You see it how it is, then." He lifts up the pot of dying chrysanthemums in the middle of the wooden island and scoops up the key. His eyes spot you curling up under the booth he glanced at. Thank goodness you got the message.

Cause shit is about to hit the fan.

He tosses the key to Buck, and as his hands raise up to catch it-

He puts a bullet in his brain.

You can't help the scream that rips past your lips, covering your ears and hiding your face in your knees.

As the men behind the bar start shooting at him, he ducks, shielding the older couple as the men infront of them begin firing. But he's too quick. Only one of them gets close, grazing his shoulder and stunning him briefly. He drops his pistol and takes the larger gun off of his back, propping it up over the island blindly and spraying the rest of the men in a hail of bullets.

And then all is silent.

With a heavy heart, you look up from your lap. The building is covered in blood, light seeps in from the holes in the walls caused by stray bullets. Maria is crying silently. Louis is looking at Mingi in shock as he falls onto his backside, holding his bleeding shoulder.

"What the hell was that, boy?"

"That was me saving your ass."

༄

Mingi and Louis, with the help of a few good samaritans, cleared the bodies out of the bar and drug them to the outskirts of town. Leaving them for the coyotes and bears. If it were up to him, Mingi would have hung them up as an example.

Maria, seemingly in shock, scrubs the floor with a blank face as you fix up the register and dig out all of the bars belongings from the bandits bags.

You feel a roll of papers at the bottom of one of the bag. A silent hum of amusement leaves you as you see what it is. They kept their own wanted posters. Proud of what they've done. You flip through them. Maybe out of morbid curiosity of who your boyfriend just gunned down. And then you get to one who you know wasn't a victim.

Because he was the gunner.

Mingis face in a sketch stares up at you.

WANTED.

DO NOT APPROACH. ALERT THE AUTHORITIES.

DANGEROUS FUGITIVE. SONG MINGI.

The door to the bar swings open.

The world spins around you as you look up from the drawing. And come face to face with it, brought to life.

"Mingi..."

"Are you okay, Doll?"

You can't seem to find any words that describe the way your heart is breaking. Louis approaches you first, his own heart stopping as he sees what's held in your trembling hands. He tears it from you, glaring down like it's a hallucination.

"Who are you?" Is all you can manage to whisper, backing away with a grip on your uncles sleeve as Mingi steps forward.

"What is that?" He nods to the paper, although deep down he has an idea of what it is.

Maria snaps out of her trance, joining your side, a gasp leaving her lips as she looks back and forth from the paper to Mingi.

"You get out of here, you never show your face in this town again," Louis grips the man's collar and pulls him to his level, "You're lucky my girls are watching or I'd hold true to my promise."

Mingi shoves him away and grabs the paper from Maria, his worst thoughts come true as he sees himself staring back at him.

"Wh..." He trails of in a whisper, heart breaking into a million pieces as you look at him fearfully. Like you did the first time you met. He thought he'd never have to see that look again. "(Y/n), please, hear me out."

Maria holds you to her chest as he approaches. "I knew I sensed evil in you, boy." She bares her teeth at him as she seethes, like a wild mother bear.

"Leave," your voice trembles, raw with all of the emotions that are flooding you. You lean further into your aunts arms as he reaches out for you. "You lied to me! I never want to see you again! I ought to turn you in!"

"You have to believe me, I'm not like that anymore. Baby, listen! I only did what I had to to survive, you don't understand. I'm not like them!" He fights against Louis as he drags him to the door. "Please, I love you!" He's thrown off the porch, only getting a glimpse of you as you crumble to the floor before the door is slammed in his face.

༄

Mingi drapes his mare's reigns over a poll, trudging through the snow until he's at a familiar door.

He doesn't bother knocking. He barges in and stares down at the man at the desk.

"Mingi, long time no s-"

"I have a job for you." He slaps down a wad of cash, "more where this came from when you're done."

The man sighs, but takes the cash, thumbing through it. "And why don't you do it?"

Mingi ignores the question. "Louis and Maria Donelley. Shoot them, make it quick. (Y/n) (L/n). Tie her up on the tracks."

He hesitates for a moment. But in the end, "More where this came from, huh?"

༄

It's been three days since Mingi has gone away. Rather, since he was forced away by his past and your reaction to it.

You've slept for most of that time. Cried the rest. You barely eat. Barely talk. You hardly even move off your side of the once-shared bed.

Maria, Louis, all of your friends tried to comfort you. Telling you that he was just a fling. That the one for you will come around and make all of the pain Mingi left disappear.

They don't know that Mingi was the one.

He made you so happy. Happier than you'd ever been. He made everything seem... right.

"Hey, Dear," Louis knocks at the wall, slowly coming ascending into the room.

"I don't want the soup, Uncle Lou..."

"Auntie!" Ellis comes barreling past Louis and jumps onto the bed, hugging you tightly.

"Ellis? Hey, Buddy!" You force a smile as you hug him back, sitting up with a groan and holding the child in your lap. "How you been?"

Ellis goes on and on about what the new teacher from the city is teaching his class, a big smile on his face. Louis sees the smile pulling at your lips in the slightest, and he excuses himself silently.

He, admittedly, is a very good distraction from your pain.

You spend quite a few hours playing with him, catching up on the things that are going on in town. He drops the ball onto the jacks and giggles loudly as it rolls away, under the bed. "I'll get it, set us up another round."

You bend down and feel around for it blinding, heart skipping a beat as you feel Mingis bag. You haven't found the courage to touch any of his things, even if to throw them away.

You move away from it and grip the ball, rolling it back to Ellis. "El, I'm feeling a bit tired, why don't you come back tomorrow."

"Aw... okay! I'll bring Violet and we can play outside!"

"See you then, Kiddo," you ruffle his hair as he passes you to leave.

It was a nice break from your sorrows while it lasted.

You crawl back into your half of the bed as the sun sets in the window above it, pulling Mingis pillow into your arms as you sob yourself to sleep once again.

Deep into the night, you feel the bed dip. You open your eyes with the littlest inkling of hope that Mingi has returned despite your harsh words his way.

But you're only met with a stranger.

You open your mouth to scream, but only get a small squeak out before you are met with a hit on the head.

༄

You awake as your body is tossed into the air, a loud groan leaving you as you collide with something hard. Through your blurry vision, you can see the moon high above you.

You look to the side, and you put two and two together that you're in a wooden cart as you see the stranger from above your bed riding on a horse that's got you attached to it. "Hey-" You croak out, getting his attention.

"Morning!" He yells, making you wince. You have a splitting headache. "Just in time for the show," he mumbles under his breath, pulling the horse to a stop.

You can hear him shuffling around in the snow, and you try to sit up before you realize you can't. Your entire body is tied in a thick rope.

The back of the cart opens up, and you try -you try so hard- to shimmy away as he reaches in and grabs your foot. But to no avail.

He pulls you from the cart and lets you fall into the snow. It wets the back of your nightgown and hair, soaks your thin socks and makes you shiver. You don't think you've ever been this scared. Even during the shootout, Mingi was there to protect you.

You watch with a fresh set of tears brewing in your eyes as you watch the man double knot some ropes onto the tracks. "Oh my God..."

He ignores as you begin to beg for your life, telling him all sorts of things about you to try and make him sympathetic. "- and his name is Louis, he took me in when my parents died! Uncle Lou and Aunt Maria, please! She'd die of heartbreak!" He scoffs, knowing she's already dead. So is Uncle Lou.

He followed Mingis request and made it quick.

He pulls you by your binds to the tracks, the metal on the tracks is the coldest thing you've ever felt and it makes you yelp. You cry out in the night as he begins tying the ropes on the tracks to the ropes on your body.

"Please, why are you doing this?!" Your voice shook with pure horror, tugging at the ropes that were wrapped around your entire body and tied to the tracks by the bandit. He crouched down at your feet and smirked, his simple answer making you cry all the harder.

"Why not?"

All of your pleas and prayers fall to deaf ears as the man turns away and to his cart, rummaging in his chest. The tracks begins to shake and you begin to except your fate. You turn your head to the side and watch the pebbles rumble, your sobs visible in puffs of air as you exhale into the harsh winter air.

A loud thud and a groan makes you look back, and you see a tall figure on a familiar white horse.

"Mingi!" He drops the crowbar he used to whack the man as he rode past.

He looks back at you briefly- his face hidden by his droopy hat. But you can tell he's pissed. His jaw clenched and shoulders tense before a gunshot rings out and he ducks and rolls off of Mare, slapping her to make her run away as he draws his own gun.

Between the rattling of the tracks and the thrumming of your heart, you can barely force yourself to watch as he approaches the man bravely, your eyes flicking from them to the horizon repeatedly. A sob of his name makes him pause for a split second before he comes back to his body.

"Too close," Mingi scowls at the man, using his gun to smack his hand and make him drop his, kicking it away as he scrambles for it.

"Aye, man, I did what yo-"

"Too close."

"Just give me my mon-"

His gun smokes by his side in the next second as the man drops to the desert floor dead. He takes a moment to bask in the way the blood pools in the pure white snow before the steam whistle catches his attention.

"Mingi, please!" He drops everything and runs to the tracks, crawling over your body and looking at your binds frantically. "Mingi, oh my God, please- I'm so sorry! Please untie me, hurry," you babble on in a panic as the train appears just over the horizon, sobs wracking you body under his as he tugs at the ropes.

Your horror breaks his heart, but he knows it's necessary. He knows he has a knife strapped to his back, but he plays the panic card and 'forgets' as he forces a false worry onto his face. He won't let anything happen to his Doll, but you're too caught up in your fight or flight to remember that.

"I got you, I got you," he murmurs as he pulls the ropes on one of your sides undone, taking his sweet time with the other as he watches the train grow ever closer- the conductor blaring the horn.

Your free hand grasps at him, clawing at his leather jacket, eyes wide and soaked with tears as you stare down your death as it barrels towards you. Just a few feet away.

Mingi yanks you up and falls to the ground besides the tracks with you on top of him, hands roughly holding you to his chest as his hat blows away with the wind that the train creates. You willingly slump into him, sobbing into his warm chest as the tracks rattle loudly besides you, drowning out your cries.

He relishes in the way you cling to him well after the train passes, not daring move away from your savior as you cry your heart out and ramble on to him about how you're so sorry and how you never would have really turned him in and on and on until he silences you with a tender hug.

He knows all of this. His Doll would never betray him. But it's best that he get a subconscious message through your thick, naive, skull early on.

The message being: the attempt to leave him has failed miserably. Why even try to leave when he's so clearly your fate?

༄

Mingi locks the bar door behind him as he carries you into the building. He kicks off his boots. He knows you hate the mess.

It was silent the entire way back to town.

And it remains that was as he carries you up the stairs and to bed. He doesn't even acknowledge you as he gets you some clean, dry clothes.

"Mingi..."

He sighs, shoulders dropping.

"I'm s-"

"I thought you hated me?"

"Min... I was just- just in shock! Why didn't you tell me you were... an outlaw?"

He kneels at the bed and slips your socks off, replacing them with a warm, thick pair.

The moonlight seeps in through the sheer curtains and paints your skin in a haze of blue. The bruise on your temple like a water color bloom.

"Because I was afraid." He bites his lip as it trembles. That's the plain truth. He was afraid you'd leave if you found out all the things he'd done. But now that you know, he still doesn't plan on letting you leave. "Please forgive me, Doll."

He lowers his head into your lap and smirks as he feels your hand rest on his hair.

"Come back home, Mingi."

"Really?" He looks up with the most puppy like gaze you've ever seen.

You nod, wiping your tears away, "I don't care what the others have to say. We can leave this place if we have to, I just need to be with you, M-" His lips collide onto yours as he pounces on you, pushing you onto the bed and nipping at your lips like he's starved. And he is, because-

"I missed you so fucking much, Doll," he growls into your lips, melting into you as you wrap your arms around him. It feels like it's the first time in forever, and it is to him.

"I love you, Mingi," you whisper as you look up at him, chasing after him as he sits up on his knees.

He lifts your ruined nightgown, looking down at you as if you're a work of art as he tosses it away. "I love you," he whispers back, cupping your breast in his warm, big hands. "I love you so much it hurts."

You lay back with a moan, arching into his touch. Your mind is so fried from this weeks events, all you want to do is disappear into him.

And you let it be know. "Take your clothes off." You tug at his buckled belt with an utterance, licking your lips at the sight of his happy trail. "Show me how much you missed me. Show me how much you love me."

Your sultry words have him undressing in a hurry, slamming his pistol down on the nightstand he made and kissing you deeply as he removes his belt, heart beating rapidly as you cup his cheeks to bring him closer.

You're the closest to heaven he's ever been. Kissing down his neck and stroking his back. He doesn't know how or why this infatuation grew into something wild and untamable. And frankly, he doesn't care.

You are quickly working to undress his top half while he kicks his pants away, letting his larger gun clatter to the floor. You no longer care if he leaves them out. You just want him home.

"I was so worried about you, Baby," he pants, "I know I hurt you. I'm so sorry," he places kiss after kiss after kiss on your face, rubbing your thighs as he slides between them. "I love you. I adore you. I want you. I'm yours. You're mine." Every statement is accompanied by a kiss.

"I'm so sorry, Min," you look deep into his eyes as he rubs his member on your wetness, "you're my one and only. I don't care what you've done to get here. As long as I have you in my arms. As long as I'm in yours."

He hugs you tightly, forehead against yours as he slips inside of you. "I will never leave you," he moans out, settling deep inside of you as you pant and whine.

You've taken him quite a few times at this point, but never like this.

He always takes his time sinking into you, reveling in the slow stretch.

But not tonight. Not after what you've been through. He needs to feel you, and now.

He needs to feel your emotional connection on a physical plane. And so do you. That's why you don't stop him or push him away as he lowers into you quickly.

You ground yourself by wrapping your arms under his and gripping his shoulders, careful of his healing wound.

His chest against yours, heart beats drumming together as you try to disappear into each others being.

Affectionate touches are left all over the both of your bodies. Tender kisses and promises of love.

"You're all I ever wanted," you whisper into his chest as he starts a languid pace. "I want to be yours, tell me I'm yours."

"You're mine, Doll, all mine." He speaks ever so softly, cradling your head to his chest. He can't believe how lucky he's gotten.

"Make me believe you, show me I'm yours."

And he does.

God knows how or why Song Mingi has so much stamina, but no amount of time passed stops him from pounding into you, he stops when he thinks you've had enough.

He's made you cum seven times through the night, and with the sun beginning to rise out the window, he's still at it.

Its been hours, and his pace hasn't slowed one bit. If anything, your pants and whines stir him on and he almost hammers into you. The quick in and out rhythm makes him moan. Your heat encasing him as the cold winter air seeps in through the walls that makes him want to bury himself in your body and never leave.

He knows he's big. He's so big and you're small compared to him. But he doesn't care when he's balls deep in your sore and swollen pussy. He makes you take it to the base and chuckles deeply when you try and crawl away.

"Min- can't take it," you sob, but that doesn't stop him.

He grips your hips roughly and pulls your clit flush to his pelvis, holding you there as you squeal out, banging your fists onto your shared bed.

"Fuck you can't, your pussy was made for me to stretch out." His next thrust sends your hips into the mattress, finally able to rest your exhausted body as he plunges into you from behind.

Each rough thrust wipes away every thought from your mind until it's all Mingi.

Mingi is so deep.

Mingi is so thick.

Mingi fucks you so good.

Mingi treats you so good.

Mingi loves you.

Mingi.

"Mingi!" You moan out loudly into the pillows as you seize up, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you cum all over him. Vision dark and blurry, drooling all over the place, barely conscious after your eighth orgasm around his massive girth.

He's panting and growling into your ear, continuing to thrust. He's relentless. He's really out to break you.

"Please," you slur, wracking your slush of a brain for a way to get him to cum. You love him, and you love fucking him. But he just won't stop until he cums. And he won't cum until you essentially force him. He's so hell bent on making you get there, he forgets about himself, like he's outside of his own body. And he's extra determined after almost losing you. Your usual tricks haven't worked. So you pull out the big guns. "Please, Min... put a baby in me." Oh, you know him all too well. He's made multiple comments about how good you are with children. How pretty you'd look with that pregnancy glow, your belly round with his baby.

"F-fuck, Doll," it seems as if that is enough to satisfy his hunger, slamming his tip into your womb and filling you with his warm and sticky seed so much that it splashes back on him and makes a mess of his lower stomach.

Still buried deep inside of you, uncaring of the mess, he lays ontop of your back gently and wraps his arms around your shoulders, his head next to yours. You shaking breaths and trembling legs calmed by his warmth over your entire body.

"Holy fucking shit," you whimper, making him chuckle quietly.

He places a gently kiss to your shoulder, "I didn't go to hard, did I?"

"You did... but I liked it."

He smiles as he rests his head, hands rubbing up your arms and to your hands, intertwining yours fingers. "I love you." He states. Loud and proud. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to share everything with you and I don't want to keep anything from you. I want you all to myself. Will you marry me?"

The words almost get lost in translation on their way to your endorphin flooded mind, and your silence makes him nervous. That is until- he sees the giant smile spreading on your lips. "Yes."

"Oh, thank goodness," he sighs a breath of relief followed by a soft laugh.

"But you'd better get me a ring," you joke, groaning out as he slowly pulls out of your abused core. There's a smirk on his lips that you can't quite place as he gently turns you on your back and helps you get comfortable.

He reaches under the bed and grabs his bag. "You didn't-"

"I did," he has his signature shit-eating-grin on his face as he takes it out. A dainty, pretty, thing. Much like he sees you.

He cuddles into your side, fur blanket draped over your lower halves. Calloused and rough hands take yours. Gently and loving with you. Their past of violence is lost as he slides the ring onto your finger tenderly.

"Mrs. Song."

༄

#ateez #ateez smut #smut fic #yandere ateez #ateez mingi #song mingi #yandere mingi #mingi smau #mingi smut #ateez smau

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year

Text

Jungkook: 8:45 PM 🔞

Tags/Warnings: Adult, smut-heavy, making out, Idol!Jungkook, Fluff, Established Relationship, implied foreigner!Reader, not home AU though, Jungkook struggling hard, misunderstanding, angst with happy end, emotional smut, oral (fem. Receiving), protected sex bc this is me writing this and I teach you kids the true life lessons

Lenght: long.

AU-Masterlist

Languages are marked as English / Korean.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

He still can't believe your first time got interrupted by something as ridiculous as his manager calling him.

It's like a reminder that his career will always somehow wiggle itself between him and whatever happiness he tries to find outside of it- nothing ever truly personal for him, everything always meant to be well thought through so it fits into his public persona.

But he refuses to give you up, even knowing all of that.

Apologizing for it just feels.. odd now, like bringing up something awkward you did ten years ago that everyone forgot about anyway before you decided to rekindle the memory in their heads. But the problem here, right now, with you, is that he knows he should bring it up. Somehow. Because he's struggling hard to keep himself in check, even having had to embarrassingly rub one out in the shower this morning after you'd made yourself tea in his kitchen wearing nothing but a shirt and panties.

It's a problem.

He's hesitating to initiate anything now mainly because what if it happens again? He can't just put his phone on silent and ignore what could potentially always be very important calls from people who only want what's best for him in the long run- real life doesn't work like those movies where the protagonist throws it all away for his girl. He wants to, he truly does- but at the end of the day, he's also scared, because if he falls, he'll potentially take you down with him, and God knows how deep he'll fall with where he stands right now.

A drop from a height this high would shatter you inevitably, and he's sure he'd crack like delicate porcelain just as much by having to watch you suffer the consequences of his actions. You don't deserve that.

"..-ungkookie?" You try again, and he snaps out of his thought, looking at you.

"Hm?" He responds, looking at you next to him.

"I asked if you want me to cook for us tonight. Is that alright?" You wonder, and he nods, eagerly so, because of course he'd love to have you do something so domestic with him. He's always dreamed of being able to experience these things after all, despite his curse of being a public figure who's not supposed to appear unavailable. "Alright-!" You hum. "Gonna have to put pants on now though, gotta go get some groceries.." you whine under your breath as you stretch on the couch naked feet pushing against his thighs and oh, how your back arches-

No, bad brain. Not right now.

"I'll give you my card, hold on." He tries to save himself, getting up to fetch his wallet as you begin to laugh.

"Jungkook baby, I can cover some groceries, don't bother!" You argue softly, getting up as well before walking over to him. "You'll just have to survive some minutes without me, that's all." You tell him, hugging his middle as you put your chin on his chest, looking up at him. "Also, people would think I'm a gold digger for using a black card looking like.. well, me." You joke, as he can't help but reach out to affectionately brush some hair out your face, hands holding your cheeks.

"M'sorry." He mumbles, and you part a bit from him, serious at his tone of voice used.

"Hm? For what?" You wonder, and he sighs. Why did he bring it up now? This is going to be so awkward, he already dreads it. But now that he's put the noose around his neck, he might as well stand on the chair too.

"Yesterday. Or.. day before? Technically it was, wasn't it.." he rants, before sighing. "I hate that we.. had moment, you know, and then.. nothing. Ruined." He complains softly, and you can't help but look at him affectionately. He's such a soft soul sometimes, worries about so much that doesn't even need to be worried about.

"Jungkook, it's fine." You answer.

"Not fine-" he shakes his head. "Not fine, I- ugh, I want you, you know? Want to, but now, it's awkward and I don't know how to initiate it because every time I plan to I keep thinking of that moment he called and-" he groans in frustration, head thrown back before he looks down at you. "I'm sorry." He apologizes yet again, and you laugh.

"I forgot to pack socks for this trip, that's why I'm always barefoot in your apartment here." You say, and he blinks once, twice, before he looks at you, confused but amused the same.

"What?" He questions, tilting his head for a split second and you shrug.

"Now I've made an awkward moment for myself too. We're even." You explain, and he laughs.

"Thats not how that works-" he wants to argue but he inevitably leans down to kiss you- a peck quickly deepened by you, because God knows you want him just as much. But the struggle of initiating isn't solely his alone, because you don't know how to either. All is still new with your relationship, you don't even live together at this point in time, only a week more and you'll be back home trying to figure out how to move most of your stuff to his country so you can be closer. This was all a test, after all- to see if it's worth it. If you'll be okay.

And you know now, you'll be just fine with him at your side.

"Hm I need to get going now though-" you say, trying to escape him now- but he won't let you, hands firm on the small of your back as he keeps you against him, lips chasing yours making you giggle as you lean back as far as you can. "Jungkook!" You laugh, but he just playfully bites at your neck.

"No, I'm hungry." He mumbles against your skin, and you look at him, pushing against his chest.

"Yeah that's why I have to go? Get everything to cook?" You remind him, but he shakes his head, gaze making it clear that he doesn't care for that.

"Not.. that." He tells you. "Hungry for you." He says, raising his brows and you laugh at how ridiculous he's being. How can he be both so cute but also attractive at the same time? It's truly unfair.

"You're so cute." You tease, catching him off guard to escape his grasp and run into the bedroom to get some proper pants at least. But he's faster, palm slapping flat against the wood of his door before the momentum of his move slams it into the wall with a loud noise, making both of you jump for a second before he stalks towards you.

And once the backs of your legs hit the edge of his bed, you know you lost.

It's like his patience had finally snapped, his hands eagerly helping you out of his shirt, happily running his palms over your skin, warm and soft as you move around a bit to get comfortable. He sighs when his phone vibrates somewhere close- probably having fallen out of his pocket on the couch earlier, and you laugh, visibly uncaring of his misery. "Go get it." You tell him when it sounds again, and he groans out loudly as if he's in pain, angrily stomping back into the living room, where you can hear him answer the call with an annoyed tone to his voice. It surprises you when he walks back into the bedroom however, pointing to the shirt you're attempting to put back on, before he motions for you to put it back on the floor where he'd thrown it down earlier.

Just what is he thinking right now?

"Yeah, that's fine." He talks into the phone, his free hand untying the strings of your sweatpants, before he pulls on the hem, tapping your hips as if to silently ask you to lift them so he can get you out of those pants. "Not right now, but tomorrow is fine." He continues to talk to whomever is speaking to him over the phone, while simultaneously running his hand from the side of your knee, up to the hem of your underwear, the last item of clothing covering you at the moment. It's oddly exciting to see him so serious, yet clearly more focused on you than anything else.

You've never felt so adored before.

His fingers slip underneath the side of your panties, teasing you, so close yet way too far from where you'd like his hands to be most right now. And he's clearly aware of it too; if the hooded eyes and the small smirk on his lips was anything to go by. "No, right now.. I'm pretty busy. Sorry." He speaks again into the phone, thumb running over the dip between your inner thigh and your by now more than aching heat. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip for a second, before the whole thing visibly seems to edge him just as much- then tent in his pants evident.

"Alright, yeah, just- text the schedule to me and I'll talk to you tomorrow about it, okay?" He offers into the phone, moving to stand up and search for something in the drawer of his bedside table- colorful foil package pretty obviously hinting at what he means when he's said he's currently busy. "Alright, hmhm, yup- bye." He rushes out, ending the call before he throws his phone somewhere onto the shirt you'd been wearing, his eyes rolling in an annoyed manner before he takes off his own shirt, joining you on the bed.

"Did you really hang up on him like that?" You wonder, giggling when he has to sit back to slip out of his loose grey sweats as well, jumping on one foot for a bit as his other gets stuck in the fabric for a second.

"I'm not sorry." He shakes his head, crawling closer to you on the mattress to get a hold of both sides of your panties. "I've got my hot girlfriend all pretty and ready, no one can ever blame me for being needy." He shrugs, shaking his hair out of his face before he tries to pull your underwear off. "Hey come on now!" He whines almost, a stark contrast to the tattooed, muscled appearance of him currently already flushed and fully erect, straining against the cotton of his own underwear.

"Needy." You tease, and suddenly, as if you'd pushed a button, as he suddenly pulls on the fabric with more determination, successfully getting rid of the item of clothing with a gaze that screams fake innocence. Jungkook isn't new to sex, and neither are you- but it's the first time doing it with each other, which naturally places a bit of pressure onto you.

Or maybe it usually should be like that- because somehow, it all comes naturally.

When his hand finds your heat, you're already melting underneath his gaze, no words spoken as he leans further over you, catching your lips again. Only that this time, he truly seems hungry; no longer offering you fleeting pecks but desperate kisses that try and convey just how much he wants you right now. He knows that he could never truly make it clear to you though- because he himself doesn't even know if that's possible.

He's never wanted anyone so bad.

And while usually not too fond of it, his need to prove himself as the perfect lover- emotionally and physically- makes him detach himself from you for a second, before he adjusts his position, leaning down to have you lay your legs over his shoulders, hands holding your thighs apart as he lays his mouth onto your heat.

It's an entirely new experience for you, and he knows.

But luckily, if your Impatient whining was anything to go by, you're definitely enjoying yourself as he flattens his tongue over your sensitive nerves, eyes focused on you while he has to use a little strength to keep your legs apart, especially when you grow close to your first orgasm. He's eager to see it, moving away to gain a better view before one of his hands finishes the job, gaze on you as you arch your back and come undone from his actions.

And its now that he really can't take it any longer.

"Fuck I need you." He curses under his breath, finally getting rid of the last item of clothing he still had on until now, no need to give his length any form of help to get ready for you. He can't help but groan a little under his breath at how sensitive he feels, rushing the act of wrapping the condom over as to not rile himself up too much.

After all, he wants to be inside you for his own orgasm, no matter what.

"Hm I'll go slow, ok?" He asks, and you nod, hands reaching out for him, making him chuckle. "You're cute." He comments, earning a roll of your eyes in return. He lets it go for now- giving you a pass this time, but only because be truly feels needy now.

He'd love to tease you a little, make you all whiny and desperate for him, but right now, he just wants you as close as he physically can get.

Though in his haste to get onto his own road towards pleasure, he never forgets you- pride swelling as he watches you hold onto him, wanting him just as much as he wants you. He's a little sweaty already, and the sheetsbare tangled badly at this point from all your squirming, arousal already staining some parts of them but right now he really can't bring himself to care.

He uses one of his hands to aid him in finding your entrance, positioning himself to carefully push himself inside, and at this point, he just feels as if he truly became one with you. It's the last key experience in a way he's had to have with you, and now that he's in exactly that moment, things start to feel real.

"I love you." He almost whispers into your neck while he starts to move. "I'm.. so grateful you're here." He tells you, hips moving at a steady pace. "I want you to.. stay forever." He almost asks, in a way, and while you can't give him an answer to that right now, you probably will later.

After you're back with the normal thinking human beings, because right now, with his pace and strength gaining as he chases his high, your head is definitely unable to form thoughts.

In a way, he loves the sight of you like this. It's awfully sinful, a sight only he wants to ever be able to see, no one else.

He can't control his own noises at this point, uncaring of his groans of pleasure as he chases after his peak, noticing you growing antsy as well, visibly eager to cum as well. And he will make sure you'll get your attention as well- he'd never let you down, ever.

And with his hand reaching in between you both to find where he needs to be, you're gone and out; head thrown back into the pillows while he pushes himself in deep, condom filling with his seed while he slows down into almost no movement at all.

Catching his breath, he leans down to you to kiss you once more, ticking of his clock on the bedside table coming back into the background noise, as well as the cars outside from the opened window, and your breathing underneath him. His senses return one by one as he pulls himself out, moving to get rid of the condom and start the shower.

"Come on." He asks, tapping your thigh, but you just whine all grumpy at him. "Noo get up, get up- the bed's all messy and we're too.!" He laughs, all energized from his own afterglow, while you seem to be the exact opposite, having to be physically pulled into a sitting position by your wrists. Jungkook himself can't help but simply laugh, before he takes matters into his own hands, lifting you up over his shoulder-

And of course, landing a loud smack onto your butt for good measure.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #bts smut #jeon jungkook x reader

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shellshocklove · 5 months

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❀ isa’s masterlist

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from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate.

smut = *

❀ JOEL MILLER

✿ SERIES

* i wanna be your lover (41.2k) | 70s!pornstar!joel miller

↳ miserable after losing your job, your friend drags you out to a club to dance away your sadness. on the dancefloor you meet a handsome stranger, who then whisks you away into his fantasy world as his assistant for his porn career. what happens when the lines get blurred?

* does anyone know where the love of god goes? | farm!joel miller

↳ crossing the country alone as he searches for his brother, joel stumbles on a farm. winter is closing in, and against his better judgement he's convinced to stay. as the frost covers the land like a blanket, a warmth ignites in his heart for the young woman who's home he finds himself in.

✿ ONE SHOTS

* heat lightning (5k) | boss!joel miller

↳ working late one friday night you help you boss joel destress.

* wet nights (5.1k) | bfd!joel miller

↳ getting beer spilled down your dress at your best friend sarah’s birthday party might not have been so bad– not when her dad can help you clean up.

* dirty work (4k) | daddy!dom!joel

↳ joel’s work has been a bitch the last few weeks, but it’s nothing you can’t fix.

❀ PETER PARKER

✿ SERIES

* thick skull (40k) | mcu!college!peter parker (band AU & post!nwh)

↳ your band, crimson goblins, just booked its first ever gig. there was just one problem. you didn't have a guitarist.

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crush (1.2k) | frat!peter parker

↳ you accidently learn peter parker's secret.

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↳ requested: maybe a blurb about peter freaking out on trying to find a gift for reader for christmas cause he waited until the last minute?

#making a new masterlist bc the other one broke 💔#masterlist #peter parker #joel miller #peter parker x reader #joel miller x reader #peter parker smut #joel miller smut #peter parker angst #joel miller angst #peter parker fluff #joel miller fluff #peter parker fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #tom holland #andrew garfield #pedro pascal

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thisismeracing · 6 months

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MICK SCHUMACHER MASTERLIST

✦ MICK SCHUMACHER ▶ MS47

All my Mick posts here

▸ main masterlist | patreon guide ▸ taglist ▸ who I write for & guidelines ▸ subscribe to Patreon for exclusive content ▸ tip me on ko-fi

KEYS: s: smut f: fluff a: angst ✷: Patreon exclusive

― ✦ SERIES

king of my heart: Mick Schumacher rode a lousy wave for quite some time, so when the sky gets cleaner and the sun brighter he just knows something terrible may be in store for him. Whereas y/n was just so magnetic, and the possibilities of life with her seemed better than anything his mind could ever create, that’s why, for the first time in forever, he threw caution carelessly through the window, hoping to get to the finish line before it catches up on him.

― ✦ SOCIAL MEDIA AU

I don't wanna be your ex (f): Y/n and Mick used to be the golden couple in the paddock, that’s why the internet went wild when they announced their breakup. Imagine how they reacted when Y/n dropped a song about not wanting to be his ex. Would the couple have any hope of getting back together?

sunshine (f): In which Mick starts dating an earthy/spiritual girl who just loves nature and good energy.

it was always you (f): Mick and Yn decided to stay friends after breaking off their two years relationship, but it seems like things weren’t that broken. Maybe having the same friend circle and seeing each other all the time meant that things were never really over.

angels like you (a): They say misery loves company, maybe that’s why Yn accidentally made Mick miserable too.

super shy (f): The one where your boyfriend is your biggest fan to the point of turning his account into a fan account or something of the sort. Or, Mick and Yn’s relationship through the years

go shawty (f): Every year Yn gets Mick a unique birthday cake. This year she’s ready to surprise the internet and her boyfriend again.

― ✦ BLURBS

I regret meeting you (a)

Say it again (f)

Friends don't (f)

I think I'm in love (f)

Speak now (a)

Light's on (f)

Suck it (s)

All mine (s)

Morning light (f)

Schatzi (f)

― ✦ REGULAR IMAGINES

our baby Angie (f): What happens when Mick refers to you as Angie's mom?

rosy cheeks, salty hair, warm bodies (s): After finally matching their schedules and booking a trip together, Yn and Mick decide to go to Mallorca for a well-deserved break. The fact that they went weeks without seeing one another and the tension around the hot weather and beach garments only helped build the momentum in which her boyfriend would absolutely ruin her in bed.

cherry (s): Mick has an idea while lying in bed during a lazy weekend, and Yn is more than ready to oblige.

suit testing (s): Yn decides to tease Mick until he gives up and takes her against the bathroom door while still wearing his racing suit.

an avid learner (s): Mick has been nothing but an attentive lover since they started dating, what Yn didn’t know was that he would be even more attentive in bed. It’s their first time having sex, and Mick is an eager learner, he’s set to make sure Yn forgets she ever dated someone before him.

banana pancakes (f): Mick is used to racing cars and living at high speed, but lazy rainy mornings with you are his favorite. Cuddling in bed, making banana pancakes, and listening to the rain fall down while swinging together on the front porch, no travel or circuit beats these moments.

love sips (s): Some bad moments leave the feeling that your whole day was destroyed. Sometimes, all you need to navigate life’s ups and downs is someone to remember you that bad events don’t equal a bad day, Yn decides on a very peculiar approach to remind herself that, and Mick, her boyfriend, is happy to help.

god is a woman (s): Making out in bed never felt this deep and heart-stopping, but dating Mick and having him love you is a full experience of being a goddess. Your hips were his altar, and he would swear to everyone that God is a woman because you’re it to him.

call me obsessed (s): Everyone talks about how good it is to date someone who’s exactly like you, but Mick has been finding it hard to believe, especially when his girlfriend has the same sunshine energy as him. The problem? Too many friendly flirts around her. And though he’s not a jealous guy, he finds himself ready to praise her and prove to her that he’s the only one. You can say he’s obsessed.

twisted love (a): The rule is clear for all celestial beings: to love the Almighty beyond everything. They can’t share the feeling. It is perpetually prohibited for angels to get fond of humans, especially the protector angels. They are the ones who will follow their human on earth and protect each one. Those Angels and the humans are the same pairing throughout time. Mick watched Yn die and come to life in different forms each period, and he fell - in love, and from Heaven. Years after searching for Yn, he found her again and he’s ready to get what’s his.

I'll always take care of you (f): The flu caught you out of the blue and completely unprepared, good thing you have your boyfriend around to take care of you.

to build a home (f)✷: Mick and Yn are used to sharing everything, and always spending time with each other. However, they didn’t notice that things got easier because they ended up pilling some things in one house. His place is theirs now, but the same happened with her place. It only takes their respective siblings one look to figure out the whole situation. Will it scare them, or will they finally move in together?

die from a broken heart (a/f): After a fight with Mick, your secret boyfriend, you find yourself crying in your father’s arms, and it won’t take much for Toto to connect the dots. The thing is: what is going to happen when he finally does?

screw him (s)✷: When you move to a different neighborhood and discover your hot neighbor is a mechanic, half of your problems evolving your old car are solved. Your issues with your current boyfriend aren’t though. You too need a fix, and Mick may be the perfect guy for it.

― ✦ CONCEPTS

college!mick (masterlist)

― ✦ HEADCANONS

♡ how mick is as a boyfriend ● part 02 ♡ aftercare with mick ♡ how mick is as a husband ♡ baby making season ♡ size kink ♡ breeding kink ♡ mick dating a black girl ♡ fighting with mick ♡ choking kink ♡ NSFW alphabet ♡ mick dating a desi girl ♡ mick dating a korean girl ♡ mick dating a girl with anxiety ♡ mick dating a latina ♡ mick dating a K-pop idol

©thisismeracing do not copy, steal, or translate my work. do not repost on a different media platform.

#ms47 #mick schumacher #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher fanfic #f1 fandom #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #op: masterlists

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snowyh2o · 4 months

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Dumb late night Hazbin ideas:

Ok, so hear me out. What if, Alastor gets a redemption arc? But it happens so slowly and unnoticed that by the end of the series you just turn around and find out that he’s already been redeemed and no one has any clue how it happened.

Alternatively, AU where the hotel’s very presence forces redemption on everyone who stays there whether they want to or not and one day Alastor wakes up and wonders if he should let Vox broadcast his shows uninterrupted that day before promptly glitching out in absolute horror at the thought. And then absolutely going out of his way to decimate one of Vox’s broadcasts just to prove to himself that he’s still just as much of an evil bastard as he always is.

Cue multiple scenarios where Alastor is trying really fucking hard to be eeeeevil and then somehow utterly failing. Watching as he’s slowly forced into being a good person against his will, and knowing there’s nothing he can do to stop it. Oh he’s still just as petty and sassy and sinister as ever, but whatever edge he had ends up lost in the thought of perhaps he should do something special for Charlie and the other residents for their first month of the hotel opening and—GODS BE DAMNED!

No one else notices it, partly because he’s always toned down the Clearly Scheming Aura when he’s around them, but also because he’ll be damned if anyone of them catches on. Husk sees through his bullshit, but ends up with the wrong conclusion and Alastor is happy to let him think whatever about leashes and deals as long as he keeps his mouth shut, buuuuut maybe he’d been a bit too harsh on the barkeep. He should make up for it with some higher quality booze and— really, it’d be nice to have something that’s more to his taste than the stuff that’s usually kept around.

Of course, Alastor’s not the only demon being forced into becoming a good person, he’s just the only one who’s noticed it. Charlie, who is 99% of the time a good person, is absolutely convinced that the better than usual behavior of the residents is a result of her efforts in the hotel. Vaggie’s also already a decent person for the most part, and after that conversation with Husk, Angel’s improved by leaps and bounds. Nifty doesn’t notice anything’s off at all, and Husk just thinks his better mood and temperament in general is because the quality of his liquor’s gone up and the company really ain’t all that bad. Sir Pentious also hasn’t noticed anything, but agrees with Charlie that her efforts have been working.

And then the hotel gets attacked and Alastor discovers this wonderful loophole in whatever spell’s got him entrapped and absolutely decimates the attackers. He’s so gleeful about his discovery and the absolute beat down he gave out without feeling the need to pull his punches that he ends up cooking everyone dinner. Everyone else is understandably very weirded out by this. Alastor couldn’t care less.

Charlie: uh, Alastor? Are you feeling alright there?

Alastor: why Charlie, I’m doing absolutely wonderful! Thank you for asking.

Charlie: oh, that’s uh, that’s great to hear!

Charlie: …

Charlie: so do you mind telling me why you’ve decided to make dinner…?

Alastor: mmmm. Just in the mood for it, I suppose. It’s been a while since I’ve cooked for others, and I’m feeling rather— creative right now!

Alastor: tell me, should I include a portion of today’s unlucky patron into the stew? It’s a bit stringy, but the stew should soften it right up!

Charlie: oh uhm. How about we don’t include any demon parts into the food?

Alastor: *raises eyebrow*

Charlie: I mean, we don’t know where it’s been! He could have had all sorts of diseases inside him. It’d uh, ruin the food if we added…. Bad meat? *nervous smile*

Alastor: mmmmm, fair enough.

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baldwinboy5ive · 6 months

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I was going to post these screenshots and say "haha AU where the Blades gang, including Aerin, does the Morellan equivalent of the Hot Ones challenge"

but then... I wrote... a whole... stupid fic. I absolutely promise you that it is so, so stupid. Please don't read it without having acknowledged that.

Name on the Wall

Pairing: Aerin Valleros/F!MC, Blades of Light and Shadow Other characters: Tyril Starfury, Nia Ellarious, Mal Volari, Imtura Tal Kaelen, Kade of Riverbend Rating: ...T...? BOLAS says "godsdamn" is a swear haha. Word count: 3441 Summary: See above. It's total fluff. It's "HEY let's give Aerin and MC a happy ending! A VERY happy ending!"

I am tagging @lovehugsandcandy @lilyoffandoms @malthemagnifisent because they requested (or demanded haha) a tag, and @oh-so-youre-a-nerd because you said you wanted even CRUMBS of Aerin haha

Raine had once said to Cherta that her friends were her found family, and Cherta had told her that she needed to work on growing the “found” part. Well, it was finally happening. Raine couldn’t help smiling as she approached Riverbend, ready to begin a days-long celebration of her engagement to Aerin Valleros, former disgraced prince of Morella, now pardoned citizen and hero of the realm for his part in defeating the threats to their kingdom.

Tyril was first to arrive and meet Raine and Aerin, and greeted the former with a fierce embrace, and the latter with a curt nod. Kade was next to appear, and they waited for Mal and Nia’s arrival with Threep and Loola. They all planned to meet in the town square with Imtura, and drop the nespers off with an old neighbor of Raine and Kade’s, where they were to be given plenty of food and attention until tomorrow, when everyone would be in attendance of an engagement party.

Upon its arrival at the town square, Threep and Loola immediately burst forth from a carriage, fluttered their wings, and flew up to Aerin, nuzzling his face and purring.

“The entire way over here! ‘Snacks! Snacks! Snacks!’ They wouldn’t even stop when I threatened to turn the whole carriage around and go back to Whitetower!” Mal yelled, throwing his hands up in exasperation as he hopped down from the carriage.

“Because they knew you were bluffing,” said Nia, stepping out of the carriage behind him.

Tyril, ignoring their banter, looked at the affectionate display by the nespers, and then wordlessly turned towards Raine, expectantly raising a hand and waiting for an explanation.

“Oh, yeah. You know they always used to hiss at him. Especially Loola. You know. Not so happy about being locked up and all that, especially while Aerin was walking around in those dungeons. Well, she finally got to him the last time we were in Whitetower, that time you went to go see your family back home in Undermount. She clawed his face up pretty bad,” said Raine with the tiniest of smiles.

“Ever since then, Aerin’s been bribing them with treats,” finished Mal with a loud snicker. “He basically would buy out my buddy over at the pier and dump a whole bag of fish on them, and now look at those spoiled things.”

“You can still see it!” Aerin said, pointing to some faint scars on his cheek, while obligingly throwing some fish out of his pockets to the nespers.

“Yeah, he could finally pretend he was big enough to cut himself shaving!” said Mal with an obnoxiously loud laugh.

Aerin rolled his eyes. “And I have two nespers here who’d do anything I say for a few more of these anchovies, including making you look like you’d cut yourself shaving.”

“Sorry, Mal,” said Threep, who at least had the decency to look abashed. “An anchovy’s an anchovy. You understand. It’s nothing personal.”

“Hush, Threep. Mal, you know he wouldn’t, really,” said Loola.

“Wait a minute…” began Kade as realization dawned on him. “I was locked up, too. Hold on. You mean I could’ve been getting free stuff from Aerin this whole time?!”

Before anyone could answer, Imtura came striding up towards the group.

“Landrat! Princeling!” Imtura said, clapping both of them on the shoulders with a hand each. “Time to get our hot sauce on!”

“Huh?” said Aerin. “I thought all the party stuff was tomorrow.”

“It is,” replied Raine with a mischievous grin. “Today we’re doing the Saucy Folks Challenge.”

“Yes!” Nia said giddily. “I’m scared! And also excited! But mostly scared!”

Tyril nodded emphatically. “To be honest, I feel quite the same way,” he said.

“What’s… going on?” said Aerin dubiously.

“The Saucy Folks Challenge,” Raine repeated. “Ten hot sauces in order of increasingly intense spiciness. The challenge dictates that each participant eats fried pargallus wings tossed in the hot sauces, in order, while answering deep, burning - pun intended - personal questions. You can drop out anytime you like, but if you make it to Number Ten, you get your name on the wall of honor, and a bunch of free food. It’s… mostly a bunch of fried stuff.”

“And bragging rights, don’t forget the bragging rights,” added Mal.

Aerin groaned. “You mean you four knew?”

“Well, uh, yes,” Nia stammered. “She and Kade said it was a tradition. I couldn’t see the harm in it.”

Aerin turned to Raine, and asked, “Then why didn’t you just tell me that’s why we were coming here early?!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Imtura said with a booming laugh. “You know godsdamn well you would’ve said no. That girl isn’t stupid.”

With a rueful smile, Aerin said, “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“You don’t; I think I’ll bow out, though,” Kade said.

Mal chuckled. “I’ve been eating spicy food my whole life - I thought I had a leg up on all you guys, but I didn’t think you were going to quit before we even got started!”

“Yeah…” Kade said absently, looking off into the distance at some of the stores in the town square.

Raine shook her head. “You’re wrong, Mal. Kade’s already beaten the challenge. You can see for yourself. His name’s on the wall… at the tavern.”

“Ohhh. The tavern. That’s where this challenge is hosted,” Aerin said, as understanding came over him. He and Raine had talked extensively about their families - including the sheer amount of trouble Kade was always getting himself into when he and Raine were growing up in Riverbend. “You just don’t want to face that barkeep again.”

The group - minus Kade - laughed.

“Come on, just come with us,” Imtura insisted, slinging an arm around Kade’s shoulders.

“Besides, Raine’s here, and she’ll never let him kill you,” Aerin pointed out.

“That’s true,” agreed Tyril.

---

A collective cheer came from the crowd gathered in the tavern as the group stepped inside.

“The heroes of the realm!” several people shouted. Tankards of ale were raised, and the heroes were clapped on their backs and shoulders as they made their way to the bar counter.

“Raine! Back home already? To what do we owe the pleasure?” asked the barkeep.

“That,” answered Raine, pointing to the wall behind the bar. There was a painting of a pargallus, a small domesticated bird found widely throughout Morella, raised for its feathers, eggs, and meat. It was dramatically engulfed in flames, and its eyes were crossed out with black X marks. This was the logo of the infamous Saucy Folks Challenge, so named for the Saucy Sausage that originated from Riverbend, along with the other nine hot sauces that made up the challenge.

“See? Right there,” said Kade proudly, pointing to the long list of names under the cartoon pargallus.

“All right, I concede,” said Mal, raising an eyebrow.

“Hah! The Saucy Folks Challenge! Wonderful! Any special occasion, or just because?” asked the barkeep, who was already beginning to gather some trays and baskets.

Raine glanced over at Aerin, who flushed a crimson so deep he almost resembled the burning pargallus, and she showed the barkeep the royal ring she wore on her hand. “He gave this to me when we first met. A lot’s happened since then. But now it’s official: we just got engaged.”

There were several surprised gasps from the tavern patrons, and then a second round of celebratory cheers made its way throughout the establishment.

“Well, then, I offer my congratulations!” said the barkeep. “Our little Raine, all grown up, about to get married! To a prince, no less!”

“Well, that part is currently up in the air,” corrected Aerin.

Mal smirked. “I think the term they used was ‘On Probation,’ or, alternatively, ‘We’re Watching You, Young Man.’ They may be on a three-strikes system. Or something.”

“In any case, back in the king’s good graces,” continued the barkeep, his voice becoming stern.

“Ehhh…” said Raine, teetering her palm back and forth in the air.

The barkeep’s expression turned deadly serious. “What I’m getting at is, surely this family is now prospering. I mean it, Kade. It was cute at first, but this has gone on long enough. You think it’s easy making a living here? I don’t care that you’re a hero of the realm, Kade, you’re our hometown boy first, and I expect our folk to take care of each other here in Riverbend - and that means paying your tab in full!”

Kade sat on his barstool taking this in quietly, all while a big smile spread across his face until he was positively chortling with joy.

“What’s so funny?!” demanded the barkeep.

Kade, still with the giant grin on his face, swiveled around on his stool to face his future brother-in-law.

There was an awkward pause. For a moment, no one spoke. Then Aerin relented, groaned, and said, “Fine.”

“Hooray!” exclaimed Kade, putting both hands in the air and spinning on his barstool.

“Wait, really? I’m finally getting paid?” said the barkeep with no small amount of astonishment.

“Hand over the tab,” said Aerin with a sigh. He accepted a thick stack of paper from the barkeep, and his eyes grew wider and wider as he scanned over it. “What the three hells, Kade?”

“Thanks, Aerin! I can tell we’re going to be great as brothers-in-law!” Kade said with a laugh.

“Yep.”

---

“Here it is!” Raine said brightly, approaching the table around which her friends were gathered with an enormous tray filled with fried pargallus wings, each basket of wings being labeled with a number.

“The local butcher’s family has been making these hot sauces for generations. People around here say that they just keep getting hotter and hotter every year. They partner with the tavern to host the challenge, since… well, people want a lot of ale while doing it,” Raine said with a laugh.

“All right,” she continued excitedly. “You ready? It starts with our hometown favorite, Saucy Sausage, and it only gets hotter.”

“It starts with Saucy Sausage?!” said Nia with great trepidation.

“I warned you,” replied Raine with a grin.

“So, Kade? You in or not?” Mal said, nudging Kade in the ribs.

“I was going to say I have nothing to prove - I’ve already got my name on the wall. But you know what? What the hell, my only sister’s getting married! I’m in!”

The table cheered.

“A lot of people do it for weddings, but it’s not a wedding-specific tradition,” Kade clarified as he sat down. “It’s just a thing people do in Riverbend. No special occasion needed, really. People make any old excuse to get together with friends and do the challenge.”

“Then I suppose, as we are here, celebrating an occasion, with friends, it appears we are all set to go,” concluded Tyril.

As everyone began to grab a basket for themselves and get seated, Aerin hesitated.

“Come on, you can sit next to me,” said Raine warmly.

Aerin, however, stayed where he was, and fixed his eyes on Tyril. “Did you mean that?”

“What?”

“Well…” Aerin began hesitantly. “That we’re friends?”

“Yes,” said Tyril flatly. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because… you don’t really treat me all that differently than when you all were threatening to kill me every two seconds?”

Mal, Imtura, and Nia all exchanged amused looks with one another. Then Imtura gestured towards Tyril and said, “You think he doesn’t like you? I think you offended him, Aerin.”

“Yeah, he looks confused and offended,” added Mal.

“Yeah, tell him, landrat,” Imtura goaded Raine.

Aerin felt that Tyril appeared exactly as he always did.

“Um… no he doesn’t,” Aerin said, to which everyone else but Tyril laughed.

“You keep hanging with us, princeling, and you’ll start to see it,” Mal said good-naturedly.

“Yes, that’s just how his face is, Aerin,” Nia explained patiently.

“Not you, too,” Tyril grumbled at her.

“It’s just… well, I just assumed you still hated me,” said Aerin.

“Then why would I be here right now?” Tyril asked.

“To support Raine, of course.”

“If we still hated you, we would have simply thrown a private bachelorette party for her without you.”

“Ooh, we could still do that, too, though,” said Imtura. She and Nia exchanged a look, ensuring that this was definitely happening.

“Then… you’re here for the free ale?” Aerin said helplessly.

“Former Prince Aerin,” Tyril said icily, “I assure you that if I should ever attempt to make nice with Raine’s acquaintances, even if I did not like them, it would not be for the paltry reward of free ale and a basket of assorted fritters.”

“You also get your name on the wall,” Mal interjected.

“And hey, those fritters are good!” Raine insisted.

Tyril turned away to look out of the tavern window in order to hide the mixture of amusement and annoyance on his face. When he turned back around, he was perfectly composed.

“You are, as they say, stuck with us,” insisted Tyril.

“Huh. So we’re friends,” said Aerin, a teasing grin finally appearing on his face.

Tyril Starfury let out a breath and, in his heart, cursed Raine of Riverbend for letting things come to this point. That boy really was annoying.

“The things I do for my friends,” he muttered aloud.

“So?! We starting, or what?” said Imtura.

“Yes, we’re starting!” Raine said decisively. “All right, everyone ready with Sauce One? All you have to do is finish those wings to move onto Sauce Two. Oh, and think up some really good questions, everyone!”

“Wait, hold on, landrat,” cut in Imtura. “You never told us how we win.”

“Yes, we did,” said Kade. “You get through all ten sauces in order, you answer all the questions that are asked of you, and then you win.”

Imtura’s face was a mixture of astonishment and dismay. “No, I mean, then who wins?”

Kade and Raine both looked a little confused. “Everyone who gets to Sauce Ten?” Raine said.

“Then how do you…?” Imtura trailed off.

“You beat the challenge by getting all the way to the end, that’s it,” said Kaid simply.

“So you’re saying there’s a chance that all of us could win, and no one single person is the champion?!” Imtura demanded.

Raine snorted. “I’m not so sure that all of us will win.”

Then it was Mal’s turn to scoff. “I’m the one who introduced you to Purple Parnassians, kit.”

“Mal, those things are probably a one on the scale, maybe a two.”

“Hah!” barked Mal, though Raine didn’t miss the look of apprehension that crossed his face.

Imtura narrowed her eyes at Mal. “Ooh, I’m beating you, at least.”

Aerin, who was familiar with Purple Parnassians back in Whitetower, looked even more nervous than he was before. “So I really have to do this?” he said.

“Oh, just you wait, you who mocked Saucy Sausage,” replied Raine. She then turned towards Tyril, and added, “And so did you, if I remember correctly.”

And so the challenge began.

“Oh, gods,” cried Tyril. “This is horrible.” He shot his arm out towards Imtura. “Ale. Ale.”

“Help!” wailed Mal. He cast a stricken glance over to Nia, who herself was in excruciating pain from Sauce Five, and was not capable of thinking straight. Nia grabbed a pitcher of water and threw it upon herself and Mal, leaving the two of them sputtering.

WIth tears in his eyes, Tyril straightened his shoulders and summoned up what was left of his dignity. “This isn’t working,” he declared. “Hand over the milk.”

“With the ale?!” gasped Imtura, who was fanning herself with her napkin in between gulps of her own ale.

“Not together!” growled Tyril with aggravation.

“This burns more than the Nerada Stone,” sobbed Aerin.

“I’m in too much pain right now to decide if that’s too soon or not, Aerin,” said Mal.

“Wait,” Tyril suddenly said, who was in slightly better shape for having had some milk. “I just remembered we were supposed to be asking questions.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Mal. “Okay, I’ll go first. So, comparing this to the Nerada Stone: too soon?”

“No, it was funny,” answered Tyril with grave sincerity, readying himself for another pargallus wing.

“Agree,” said Kade.

“You don’t even know funny!” shot Mal. “And this proves it!”

“Just eat your wings!” Tyril roared back, more tears welling up in his eyes.

Nia was panting hard, and dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. “Imtura, did you ever feel that you lash out at people sometimes because your mother wasn’t generous enough with her affection?”

“Whoa!” Imtura sputtered, spitting out some of her ale and coughing, in equal measures from shock and from the heat of Sauce Five.

“Priestess isn’t holding back!” Mal exclaimed.

“Well?” Tyril prodded.

“Yes! Happy?!” Imtura growled, tearing viciously into a pargallus wing.

“All right, Mal, you’re up,” said Raine. “Deepest darkest secret you’ve never told anyone else ever.”

Mal managed to bark out a weak laugh amidst his panting and gasping. “Why do I get that one?!”

“Everybody can answer that one, too,” said Raine diplomatically.

“Um… don’t have any,” said Mal.

“Boooo!” shouted the rest of the table.

“Fine! I had a crush on Raine when I first met her!”

“EVEN MORE BOOOOOO!” yelled Imtura. “We all knew that!”

“Yeah,” said Nia, sniffling through her tears. “Raine said, deepest darkest secret no one knows!”

“Very funny,” Mal said, himself sniffling through tears as well.

“Kit this, kit that,” Tyril mocked savagely. “It could not have been more painfully obvious.”

Mal turned towards Tyril with venom in his eyes. “Oh? And you?” he said accusingly.

Tyril then had a coughing fit from his efforts to make it through Sauce Seven. When he recovered, he said, “Everyone liked Raine. That is no real secret.”

“Is no one going to ask Tyril about the existential crisis he had when we went to Zaradun?” challenged Mal.

“Just eat your wings!!!” shouted Tyril with more emotion than he’d shown all day.

“Ice, elf boy, please,” huffed Mal, pushing a glass of water towards Tyril.

Tyril obliged, using his magic to drop some ice cubes into Mal’s water. “Only because you said ‘please,’” he said grimly.

Ignoring this, Nia asked, “Raine, did you ever have romantic feelings for anyone else in your adventuring party?”

Raine, who was soldiering through Sauce Nine, but visibly struggling, eventually gained enough composure to answer. “Maybe. I might have. If Aerin hadn’t come along when he did.”

“Who?”

“Yes, who?!”

“Tell us!”

“Oh, I don’t know! You guys know I flirted with everyone back then!”

“Who could forget the bug monster…” Mal said darkly, as he wiped his brow and downed some more ale.

“Done!” Raine suddenly shouted, throwing a bone down into the basket in front of her, and raising her tankard of ale. “Sauce Ten!”

The tavern patrons all cheered and whooped, and thumped the tables. “Raine! Raine!” some chanted.

“All right, I am not getting left behind,” said Imtura with renewed determination. She clenched her jaw, and then tore through Sauces Eight and Nine. The others followed suit, amidst sobs and yells, and dramatic gulps of their ale. Sauce Ten was now in everyone’s sights.

“We’re gonna add a whole bunch more names to that wall tonight!” shouted Kade. “I get a special mark for doing it twice!”

“Keep fighting!” growled Nia.

“We can do this!” added Imtura.

“Put mine up there!” screamed Mal, his face bright red and shiny with perspiration and tears. “Done!”

“Done!”

“DONE!”

“Sauce Ten, done!”

Raine turned towards her fiance, and gave him a triumphant smile before leaning in and kissing him.

“Feels like fire,” he said with a big grin. Raine couldn’t tell if his face was red from the kiss, or - well, frankly, it was probably mostly from the challenge.

Aerin looked around at the people surrounding him - sweating, coughing, wiping away tears, gulping down milk and ale - and even through the sheer pain he was feeling in his whole face from going through this ordeal, he realized he didn’t want to be anywhere else, doing anything else, with any other folks.

His family wasn’t the one into which he was born. His family was the one that took him in, forgave him for the things that he’d done, and relentlessly teased him every chance they got.

He gritted his teeth with determination. They were his new family. Therefore, his name godsdamned well better be joining theirs up on that wall.

“Done! SAUCE TEN!” he shouted, and it brought the house down.

The tavern erupted with a deafening cheer.

There was no better way for Raine and Aerin to start their celebrations and new life together.

#aerin valleros #aerin x mc #blades of light and shadow #my fic

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andiftheycare · 5 days

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Fics Masterpost

**Disclaimer: I’m making this for my own peace of mind and because I like to think that I’m actually writing most of these and seeing them in a post makes all my draft docs more real (insert here me sobbing). I’m not a native speaker so my English is wobbly at times. Cheers!**

How To Series

JJK shoujo manga au in which nothing bad happens ever.

How Satoru and Suguru Became Boyfriends

High School AU, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, Valentine’s Day fic

Rumor goes Satoru and Suguru are dating, but are they?

OR High School au where Satoru and Suguru try to survive Valentine’s day and almost-surely-don’t-acidentally end up on a date.

How Satoru Knit A Scarf (one shot, word count tbc)

High School Au, White day fic, miscommunication, established relationship

Satoru decides to knit his boyfriend a scarf for White Day. Armed with Haibara sister's knitting needles and Riko’s unwanted comments, he sets himself on a mission of knitting it in two weeks.

Except that he can be as good at everything as he wants, but knitting is painfully slow, and he has to hurry up if he wants to surprise Suguru.

Meanwhile, Suguru is trying to ask his boyfriend out for their first date – as a couple, not as friends – and wondering why Satoru is doing his best to avoid him at any given opportunity.

Or: stupid teeangers being stupid.

7/11 (one shot, 2k)

High School Au, Nanami POV, established stsg

Exams are approaching and Nanami is not spending the summer in school, thank you very much. Geto helps (or tries to.)

Or: Nanami is the only person yet unaware of Geto and Gojo’s relationship. Now he wants to burn his eyes.

Parts of your soul, Publishing AU series

They don’t die at the end

Publishing au, writer Gojo Satoru, book publicist Geto Suguru, getting together, miscommunication, burn out, non linear narrative, email fic, mixed media

Gojo Satoru is one of Japan's most celebrated literary writers. At least, that’s what his publisher tells him.

Geto Suguru is his book publicist, which is slightly inconvenient as he’s also: 1) his high school best friend who left him before graduation and 2) the love of his life.

When Suguru hands in his notice, Satoru makes it everyone’s problem.

Untitled full they don’t die at the end (multichapter, currently scared of how many words this will be)

Publishing au, angst with happy ending, getting together, slow burn, like ten years long slow burn, miscommunication, inappropriate office behaviour, burn out, publishing lingo, power dynamics, eventual smut, light dom/sub in parts, overworking, possessive Gojo Satoru, Geto needs therapy, more tags to be added

Spanning across ten years of maybes and won’t, this is the publishing au no one ever asked for.

Untitled Itafushi (one shot, word count tbc)

Publishing au, getting together, slice of life, literally nothing bad happens in this fic, living together, editorial assistant Yuuji Itadori, Vet student Megumi Fushiguro, overall Queen Nobara Kugisaki

Nobara needs a housemate. ASAP. Because she’s on a publishing salary and can’t afford her monthly travelcard, let alone sharing the rent of a third empty room with Yuuji.

Megumi needs a flat. Possibly in the next 48 hours. His landlord is evicting him at the end of the week, and he refuses to go back living with Gojo. Let alone now that Gojo has a boyfriend basically living with him.

When he meets Nobara, Megumi thinks the place is too cheap to be true, but Kugisaki seems fine, and he can live for six months in a pet free house. Enters Yuuji Itadori, now bane of his existence.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #geto suguru #gojo satoru #itafushi #stsg #satosugu #fic stuff #my fic #jjk fic masterpost

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nordictwin · 2 years

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So I've been playing I Was a Teenage Exocolonist, letting it eat up my every waking thought, as one does. And while I've got a fic with some love for mama Flulu in the works, I've got a fun little AU in the back of my head as well, but I don't think I'll ever get to writing it. But it needs to be written out, so here you go.

Basically: what if ALL the Stratos kids, while Sol is still asleep from hitting their head during the crash, wake up and realize that they've got memories of (some of) the past timelines. BUT - they all think Sol is the only one who doesn't?

Marz is the first one to awaken to it - memories of the colony falling and, most importantly to her, Lum ruining them all. And she's not about to let that happen. But she also very quickly realizes that if she goes around telling people, bad things are probably going to happen. So she stays quiet and observant.

Which is how she notices that some of the other kids aren't quite acting like themselves. Tang and Dys suddenly spend time together again, both reaching out in their own awkward ways. Anemone clings to Kom even more than usual, Tammy worries and frets, but starts working harder to study and learn basic medicine, and Cal throws himself into biology and food production with an unprecedented vengeance. All trying to act like everything is normal.

In short, they're being very obvious that there's something up, but trying to hide it.

All except Sol. Nothing out of the ordinary seems to be happening with them - they're just an ordinary kid, doing ordinary kid things.

So Marz calls for a meeting between all the "in the know" kids, and outright tells them: "I have memories of past lives... and I think you all have, too".

Cue the lot of them starting to pool their memories and plan ahead for the future. The famine, the Shimmer, the Heliopause, and everything else. There must be a way for them to avoid all that pain and suffering, they just need to work together.

Most importantly: they need to protect Sol, because in all their memories, Sol is their ray of sunshine in human form. Too good for this world, too pure. And since they're the only one who doesn't know about what's coming (or so they think), they've got to make sure they stay safe.

It's a quest to save the colony and protect Sol's happiness, no matter what may happen. They've got 10 years to fix everything, they can do this.

Meanwhile, Sol absolutely has all of their memories of the past timelines. All of them. So why aren't the other kids noticing anything off about Sol? That would be because Sol learned real fast to not talk about past lives and not acting normal - because the one time they did, in what would be their "second playthrough", they got institutionalized. And they're not going to chance anything like that again.

This is essentially a Sol who's lived a lot of lives and is starting to get very tired of it all, to the point where they're just... going with the flow. Letting things happen. They go to school, help out where they can, try to enjoy life as it comes. Not seeking a specific goal or outcome. And if their friends are suddenly acting a little stranger, seeking them out more, being more active in a way? Well, maybe that's just this life's way of putting a spin on things.

And if, when the Heliopause arrives, Rex and Nomi-Nomi are even more friendly towards them and Vace is... still an asshole, but almost tempered by something (and steers clear of Nem outside of unavoidable interactions)? Well, that's just less to worry about and more hugs for them!

(Marz is quick to catch on, once again, and all three are accepted into the Save the Future Council soon after).

How will this new timeline end? With everyone working together, will the Colony rise or fall? When fate no longer rests upon one child's shoulders, how will everything change? I'll leave that up for you guys to speculate about.

#i was a teenage exocolonist #exocolonist #everyone knows AU #they get Sym and Congruence in on the plotting #Sym is delighted and fascinated by the new developments and adores all his little humans #Sol gets a well-earned break from everything

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thewiz9062 · 2 months

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Smiling Critters AU: Dogday's Psyche

NOTE: THIS IS NOT RELATED TO CANON IN THE SLIGHTEST. An accurate description of this au is that I took every playtime.co poster art and promotional material from the game and lit up the rest of canon in a bonfire. Meaning that EVERY character is part of one big cartoon. Thats it. No bigger bodies project, no child souls, no experiments, just a depiction of a cartoon. PLEASE do not ask me to do anything suggestive with anyone.

OK I know it's been a while since I posted one of these but bear with me here this one was interesting to write

So dogday

In my other posts, I've already made him a constant in everyone's lives (as he's the main character) but I want to go into how he thinks because that explains alot of his actions and most importantly, his interactions with catnap.

Tldr, dogday is elation (que demoic giggling if you get the reference)

Now usually when you see a happy go lucky character you immediately go "they've either had the happiest childhood ever and are genuinely like this or they didn't and they're faking it" and that was gonna be my original assessment with dogday. But yk.....that's bland. So i decided to mix the two: pretty bad childhood but they're happy....unhealthily so. Hear me out here:

In my au, dogday was abandoned as a baby at a foster home. So they "raised him" (they just did just over the bare minimum, I don't wanna villianize the workers though because they did have like a bunch of other kids there as well, not excusing them of course) but he was mostly left to his own devices. Normally this would dampen a child's spirit but dogday is quite a fighter, finding joy or happiness wherever he could. Whether it be picture books or TV shows, he found a way to make himself happy. And All the media he knew subtly shunned sadness or anger or anything of the sort. So now all dogday knew was happiness, as anything else was 'bad' and needed to be fixed.

The people around him didn't help his mindset either. After interacting with the other kids there, they usually had some semblance of an uplift in mood for the rest of their day. It usually didn't last long, though, because while dogday lived there their entire life, the others were there due to...unfortunate circumstances. He also could notice how the workers felt like he was a breath of fresh air compared to the other children, who mostly needed consoling, while dogday was 'self-sufficient' (they try I swear they're just not good at it)

So all in all, after 13 years of this dogday... was in a very unique state of mind. If you want a simple explanation, then he has this mental limiter. Anything happy or can bring joy can stay, and any other thoughts get snuffed out immediately. So he's not faking happiness. In a way, he just doesn't know anything else. Present him a situation where someone is sad his first instinct is to cheer them up, and usually it works, but in the situation it doesn't, he'll pretty much blue-screen. Cuz after all, it's always worked before, what else does he know?

So enter catnap.

Catnap is essentially his foil, and his main purpose is to help him see the other side of things because sun and moon dynamic yk I had to do it

Someone like catnap won't be cheered up normally, catnaps sort of nihilistic when it comes to problems, believing nothing can be done about it, cause in his situation he had no control over what happened, so why try and fix what he can't, that's meaningless. So letting his emotions pass by and move on is his way of 'comfort' So dogday's attempts at cheering him up doesn't work, and as Dogday does in those situations, he blue-screens. Normally when dogday fails to cheer someone up and he visibly panics, they'll give him a smile or a laugh, and seeing that instantly fills dogday with relief, even though he doesn't see that it doesn't reach their eyes.

Catnap won't do that however, because of his own coping mechanism. So dogday will panic, quietly spiraling into thoughts like "why isn't it working, what do I do, how do I fix this" and catnap reads his face and tells him to stop, he just needs a moment. Dogday wouldn't understand, he's never seen sadness be good for someone.

And from there his learning journey begins (aka how to feel other things)

God I love making them mentally unstable

#poppy playtime #smiling critters #smiling critters poppy playtime #dogday #catnap #alternate universe #angst #sorta?#btw the refrence was hsr

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panxramic · 2 months

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A little excerpt from my Sundrop and Moondrop AU :)

Chayanne and Tallulah

When Tallulah wakes up it is late at night and Chayanne is gone. Her face feels icky from all the crying and the last thing she wants to do is get out of bed. She looks over to Chayanne’s side of the room and finds his bed empty, which is odd at this late at night. The moon is just above their window shining a light glow into their room. Everything feels cold tonight, more so than usual.

Sometimes it feels like the world is laughing at Tallulah, seeing what it can take from her next. She’s young still, and it feels like people keep coming in and out of her life more often than she can remember. She’s been abandoned again and again, left to rot alone in countless orphanages and attics. No matter what she does, or how nice she acts, no one stays. Soon everyone gets tired of her, they send her to the next home or throw her out into the streets to die. It was a miracle the emperors wanted her.

Tallulah was found one breath away from death. She doesn’t remember much, but she remembers a man with blonde hair and giant wings holding her. She remembers a long journey in which she spent the majority of the time sleeping. She also remembers a little boy with bright blue eyes and blonde hair. He wouldn’t leave her side, even took it upon himself to hold her throughout the journey. But the one thing she will never forget is his eyes.

When Tallulah first met Chayanne she swears his eyes glowed. They called to her, mesmerized her in a way nothing else ever has. She was only 6 when she met him. Phil and Missa say that for the longest time, they couldn’t get her to stop crying, but Chayanne could, he always could. Tallulah distinctly remembers it was the eyes, something about them calmed her down.

She thinks maybe it was her just imagining things, maybe some trick of the light. Either way, bright blue eyes or not, Chayanne’s ability to calm her down has remained. Through every nightmare and bad dream, he’s always been there. Every scrap and every bruise. Even when she’s gotten into trouble and grounded, Chayanne would always be the one to sneak her in cookies or treats she was banned from having.

He knows her, knows her better than anyone else ever has. And just as he knows her, she knows him too.

Cautiously she makes her way out of their chambers. This part of the castle seems quiet tonight, even with the extra guards she can see down the hall. No one else seems to be asleep, probably trying to figure out where apa Missa went. Quietly she sneaks down the hall and around the corner to the doors of her parent's bedroom. She opens the doors and surely enough, there is Chayanne.

He is wrapped up in the blankets, lying on apa Missa’s side of the bed. She makes her way around to his side, closer, she can see him clutching tightly onto his duck plushie.

The moon's light is perfectly situated on his face. Tallulah swears she can see bright yellow and blue specks in his eyes. But under the light, she can also see faint marks of dry tears down his cheeks. She feels her heart shatter.

Tallulah thinks the world has been incredibly unfair to her. Time and time again she’s been abandoned, left to rot by her parents who believed her to be a curse. She believed she could be happy here, she believed she had parents that would stay. But the world was unkind and decided to take one of them away from her. And yet through it all, there’s been one person who has stuck by her side, one person who hasn’t left her. For the first time, Tallulah has someone to cry with. She has someone to hold her and dry her tears. It hurts, but at least she’s not alone.

Tallulah makes her way around the bed onto papa Phil’s side. He must still be awake, trying to find out what happened to his husband, her other dad. She climbs into the blanket and gives Chayanne a tight squeeze.

Into the moonlight, she whispers, “I’m here for you too.”

#I love #sdmd tallulah #and #sdmd Chayanne #to bits #also story might have some changes #but this is part of it for now ;)#tallulah #qsmp #marv writes #qsmp tallulah #qsmp chayanne #chayanne #sdmdau #tangled AU #sundrop and moondrop au

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ginmoonnet · 4 months

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♡ Between Bitter Tea and Sweet Milkshake┇🫖🍓

[Wanderer AU] 🐈‍⬛🤍❕

Previous | List

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Ep. 2 ‘Relatives’

It was finally your day off! Congratulations, you should be happy, shouldn't you? Oh! It's true, you have nothing to do.

You didn't feel like starting or resuming any hobby, you weren't planning to do anything productive and your 'friends' didn't want to go out with you (because they did have important things to do...).

Sunday, today was a boring and insipid Sunday. You had just returned to school after vacation, in which you covered both shifts in the cafeteria, you didn't work every day and they paid you more so it was a win win, however you got so used to that routine that now your life felt meaningless. (you exaggerate).

You had been lying in your bed since...well, since you opened your eyes? Ha…today was an ordinary day, TOO ordinary. The bed seemed to have turned into stone, your cell phone bored you just by looking at it from afar and the entertainment channels didn't even entertain you.

While you complained in your extremely overacted suffering your stomach growled, it had not touched food since last night and it was agonizing. You grumbled; You didn't feel like cooking, you doubted there was even anything decent in the fridge, you didn't want to wait for a delivery man for 30 minutes, "maybe starving wouldn't be so bad," you thought, however, almost like a divine sign an idea came to your mind.

The Tatarasuna store was a kind of independent convenience store. It was two or three blocks from your condo complex, there were more stores around of course, but at the Tatarasuna store the service was nicer. It was a family store so the atmosphere there was warmer, whoever was serving was always kind to you, sometimes you would just go to chat under the pretext of buying something...as you probably would now.

You knew all the people in charge of that store very well and although you felt affection towards everyone, it could be said that you had your favorites. As soon as you opened the door, the bell above it jingled, making whoever was arranging some things on one of the shelves turn towards you.

—With that hair and seeing you from behind, I could swear it was your grandfather…if you weren't so short—.

The boy in front of you chuckled.

—Hello to you too, Y/N—.

What you had said was a joke, you could bet that you would recognize that white hair, that reddish strand that matched his eyes, the same hairstyle as always and that calming aura that surrounded him from miles away.

You just watched him as he approached you, when he was in front of you, he placed his hand on your head and smiled. It's getting hot right? Yes…it shows on your face.

—Hey Kaz—.

—Hmm?—.

—What temperature are we at?—.

The white-haired man looked at his cell phone screen for a few seconds and then answered.

—Uhmm 15° Celsius, why?—.

—I think I'm sick—.

You said as you squeezed your cheeks together. Kazuha saw you and put his hand on your forehead.

—Yes…your face is boiling—.

—Do you think some tea will make me feel better? I think so, where is the tea?—.

You said as you walked around the store, looking towards the shelf where the teas were supposed to be.

—About that…We don’t have—.

—But yesterday there was—.

—Haha yes, but there’s no more—.

He said, that despite saying it with a giggle, it seemed that just remembering the mysterious event gave a glimpse of a gloomy expression on his face, which made you laugh, but since you are an incredible person and a wonderful friend, you decided to take it seriously.

—…What happened? Did someone came to rob?—.

—Something like that…—.

Suddenly, the door to the store opened somewhat abruptly, revealing the most unfriendly individual you have ever had the misfortune of meeting, carrying in his arms an exaggerated (truly exaggerated) number of boxes of different types of tea. already open.

The faces of the three showed displeasure. You for running into your (somewhat) annoying coworker. Kazuha because the person who had arrived in question was the tea thief, and the blue-haired boy... well.

—I tried all Kazuha, all of them! And do you know what I discovered?—.

—That you are inconsiderate?—.

—No, aside—.

Kazuha sighed heavily, while you just watched with your arms crossed, the bluenette had not even noticed your presence.

—They're all rubbish! I mean how hard is it to make good tea? But what can I expect from this if the poor quality can be seen from the packaging…—.

The boy seemed to be able to continue babbling non-stop, fortunately, Kazuha stopped him.

—Sigh…Scara, if you haven't noticed, I have clients who didn't get what they needed because of you—.

—Ok, so?—.

—You are unbelievable—.

—Ha, thanks—.

—It wasn't a compliment—.

—Ok, fuck you—.

Kazuha took the tea boxes from his hands and walked with them towards the counter so you followed him, however a voice stopped you.

—And who are you?—.

WHAT? Did he not recognize you?!. You looked at him in disbelief. Normally you are a fairly mature person, very aware of your emotions, however sometimes you had to take a deep breath and say:

—What do you care?—.

Scara snorted and rolled his eyes, but as if he had mercy on you, he didn't say anything else and just stared at you and Kazuha while leaning against the door frame.

—What are you going to do with the tea boxes?—

—Hmm, they're basically full but I can't sell them because they're already open...I'll probably keep them here for when I want to have a something to drink—.

—Can I take one?—

—Huh? Are you sure?—.

—Yeah, do you have jasmine tea?—.

—Hmm, I think so, wait—.

While Kazuha was looking through the boxes for the one you wanted, you couldn't help but side-eye at the boy who was watching the both of you with amusement.

—And where do you know him from?—.

You whispered to your friend.

—Hmm? Who, Scara?—.

He whispered back to what you nodded.

—Ahh…he's my cousin or something—.

—What?!-.

—I found it! Jasmine tea, here—.

He held out the box to you, which you grabbed automatically since you were too shocked to think about what you had just heard.

—Your cousin? Where did you get him from or what?—.

You had known Kazuha since childhood, he has been your best friend since…well forever?, you spent too much time together so it was strange that you didn't know someone from his family.

—Why are y’all whispering so much? You’re talking about me, right?—.

Scara watched them with a raised brow and his arms crossed. Although his appearance could look intimidating, he actually said it in a calm and somewhat mocking manner.

—I'll explain it to you at school—.

Kazuha said, handing you the box and saying goodbye to you. Kicking people out seemed to run in the family.

You didn't protest and went home instead, you didn't feel bad or anything anymore. So you really took the tea for nothing, but since they didn't charge you for it you weren't complaining.

When you got home, you made yourself some tea and fell into bed, still thinking.

—…His cousin, ugh, out of all people?!—.

That's it, end of the chapter teehee :P

Fun fact: Kazuha and Y/N had been friends since they were 7 y/o. They passed most of their time on the playground or watching cartoons in Kazuha’s house. Their favorite show was Pucca.

List

A/N:

-This took just two nights to be written but it took me like A WEEK to think in something interesting to write on it lol

-Starting for now I’ll add fun facts about the characters and their relationships at the end of each chapter so y’all can know them better >///<

—Moonヽ(^‥^=ゞ). ミ★

#wanderer #wanderer au #wanderer x reader #wanderer fluff #scaramouche #scaramouche au #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche fluff #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi au #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi fluff #genshin impact #genshin au #genshin fanfic #genshin fluff #♡ BBTASM┇🫖🍓

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late-to-the-party-81 · 8 months

Text

You can ring my bell

AN: this is what happens when you see a headcanon on tumblr, share with the group and then get affectionately badgered into writing it…it’s just silly.

Thanks to my cheer-reader @lavenderbuckyy, my beta @alwaysabrighterdarkness and @gay-jewish-bucky for the inspo

This fic also covers the September Adoptable for Stucky Bingo round 5 - “You look so pretty like this.” in place of square G2 on my card (sorry Ice Skater AU) @stuckybingo

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Master list | Stucky Bingo Master list

Summary: Steve has a Pavlovian response to seeing Bucky tie his hair up.

Word Count: 1.2k

CW: Crack fic, Post EG AU where everyone lived, no-one died and nothing hurts, Horny super boyfriends, Tony is done, implied sexy times, everywhere, they are an HR nightmare, referenced 1940’s homophobia, brief references to Hydra control, Bucky is a little shit, Steve is so gone on Bucky, Nat knows what’s up (when does she not?)

It wasn’t hard for anyone to notice, now that the final battle against Thanos had been won and the world was getting slowly back onto an even keel, how happy Bucky and Steve were.

Neither of them could believe that they got to live openly together now and with Bucky being (mostly) recovered they were taking advantage of it whenever and wherever they could.

Loudly.

Often.

Sometimes in places around the compound they really shouldn’t.

Tony had mentioned, in one of his dressings-down to the two of them, that he was starting to think that Sexual Harassment training had been invented because of horny supersoldiers. Apparently now there were ‘things he couldn’t un-see’… Which is why, he said, pink-faced, that whenever the two semi-stable centenarians weren’t in the privacy of their own rooms he had FRIDAY discreetly keep track of their vitals, and block others entering the area Steve and Bucky were in if their life signs… elevated. Tony also announced that he’d given the cleaning staff a raise. Bucky and Steve should have, in theory, been sorry, but they weren’t. Bucky still remembers how he and Steve had just looked at each other and started giggling, much to Tony’s disgust.

Even when they were keeping it “safe for work”, they were still always touching each other. A hip-pat here, a shoulder clap there. The odd, chaste kiss to the other one's cheek. Movie and game nights were more ‘R rated’, with kissing, cuddling and canoodling. More than once the pair had an empty soda can or cushion thrown at them by one of the others, accompanied by jovial shouts of “Get a room!”.

Bucky normally flipped whoever it was his middle finger while still making out with Steve and grinding down on his lap. He was enjoying being with his man and couldn’t care less about who knew it. He also didn’t remember the last time he and Steve had seen a group movie all the way through. Normally one or other of them got too wound up and ended dragging the other back to the privacy of their own apartment.

Bucky had heard some of the others talking, debating who was the bad influence on who out of him and Steve. Ha! Nat was the one to point out that the two of them were as bad as each other. As usual, she wasn’t wrong.

Bucky couldn’t resist Steve when he was trying to concentrate on something, his stoic mask on his face as he tried to be serious. Bucky always wanted to do something - anything - to bring a smile back to Steve’s features. And Steve couldn’t get enough of Bucky, apparently. Steve was a morning person and Bucky was a night owl, something that dated back to the late 1930’s and hadn’t changed over the intervening years. And while Bucky did love his lie-ins, he was never, ever, gonna get upset if Steve woke him up with blowjob, or more.

However, now that they had the opportunity to fully indulge themselves without looking over their shoulders, it didn’t take Bucky long to figure something out about Steve and his sex drive. Apart from the obvious that is.

Steve had always been ‘hot to trot’, even when he’d been only one hundred pounds and Bucky could tuck him under his arm if he became too uppity. That hadn’t changed post-serum, other than the fact that he, and now Bucky, had a near zero refractory period. No, what Bucky noticed was something different, but just as fun, and was something they would have never discovered back in the day.

Bucky had decided to keep the long hair that he’d grown-out in Wakanda. He’d always liked caring for and styling his hair, even back in the 40’s, but there was something so indulgent about having hair that floated around his shoulders by choice. The ritual of washing, conditioning, detangling and drying his hair helped him to relax and if he was having a bad day, just having Steve brush it for him helped immensely.

However, long loose hair, no matter how sexy it looked in movies and pornography, just wasn’t practical for sex. Especially super-serum enhanced marathon sex. This meant that whenever he and Steve were getting hot and heavy - hands roaming, clothes loosening - if Bucky’s hair was down, he’d immediately slip the hair tie from his wrist and put his hair up. His go-to was normally a loose bun, but Steve was very fond of a ponytail. For reasons. The tying up of Bucky’s hair signalled to Steve that things were getting serious in the best way, and after that point their activities got a lot more ‘Rated -E’.

What Bucky noticed though, was something that happened one day when they weren’t already at first or second base. Steve was sitting on the sofa, reading through a book on art history. Bucky had been over in the gym, and with his adrenaline high was feeling horny. He’d returned, had a quick shower and then, as he walked out into the lounge, made sure to catch Steve’s eye and then, very pointedly, tie his hair up. For good measure, he’d licked his lower lip too.

The effect was almost instant. Not-so-little-Stevie made his presence known, straining against Steve’s grey sweatpants before Bucky had even made it into the space between Steve’s legs. By the time Bucky’s knees hit the carpet, Steve’s cock was at full mast, ready for whatever was about to happen. Bucky didn’t think much of it at the time - he was rather… busy - but it was an amusing observation all the same.

A few days later though it happened again and Bucky wasn’t even trying to be tantalising. Steve was in their small kitchen, starting the preparations for dinner, and because most of Steve’s culinary skills were linked to either boiling or over-boiling things, Bucky decided for the sake of his stomach to help out. He stepped up beside Steve, and tied up his hair so it didn’t get in his face. Steve immediately pulled him in for a rough, needy kiss before uttering “You look so pretty like this” and dropping to his knees, hands grabbing at the tie on Bucky’s sweatpants. They ordered take-out that night instead.

However, the first time that Bucky really put two and two together was in the most innocuous of places - the conference room. Tony was talking through the plan for the upcoming mission, in the long winded way only Tony could. The room was stuffy and Bucky was starting to feel a bit warm, so he pulled a hair tie from the pocket of his pants, and looped his hair up. From the corner of his eye he saw Steve shift. That in itself wasn’t an indication of anything, but a few minutes later Steve shifted again. Then uncrossed and recrossed his legs. Then he coughed. Or rather, as Bucky noticed, he let out a small groan that he covered with a cough.

Bucky turned his head, an inquisitive look of boyfriendly concern on his face, but when he saw what the problem was he thanked god for his poker face, because Steve was sporting a grade-A, top tier boner. It was obscene even though it was still fully covered by Steve’s pants. Bucky wished it weren’t.

His own dick twitched, and he had to employ all of his old training to stay calm and collected. However, he wouldn’t be James Buchanan Barnes, Little Shit Extraordinaire, if he didn’t take advantage of the situation.

Bucky moved his chair so that he was facing Steve more, but still able to view Tony’s presentation. Then, oh-so-slowly, he slipped off his shoe and stretched his leg out under the table. Steve twitched in his seat as Bucky’s foot met the back of his calf and his eyes were firmly riveted forward indicating to a very amused Bucky that he was desperately trying to keep his composure. Steve’s brow furrowed and his neck started to flush a delicious shade of pink as Bucky’s foot slid up, and up, and then round. He curled his toes over the top of Steve’s cock, trying not to smirk as Steve coughed again.

As Tony droned on, Bucky kept rocking his foot back and forth, and toying with a lock of his hair, coquettishly. He wasn’t looking directly at Steve, but could feel the heated glances flashed his way, and by the time the meeting came to a close he was finding it difficult to hold back a grin. When the others stood up and started to file out, Bucky removed his foot, grabbed the case file that was in front of him, opened it and pulled his chair up close to Steve’s.

“Steve, I think we should go through our part of the plan. Make sure we’re 100 percent in sync.” Bucky pointedly ignored the knowing eyebrow Nat raised at him as she strolled out.

“Good idea, Buck.” Steve’s voice was sinfully low and rough, and Bucky knew this was going to be good. Hooray for lube packets that could be as easily stashed as knives…

Five minutes later FRIDAY put the conference room into lockdown and deposited a bonus in the cleaning staff's accounts.

From then on, Bucky had to think very carefully before he put his hair up. It wouldn’t do for Steve to be getting a boner in the middle of a battle, but afterward, in the jet? Well that was another thing altogether, even if Tony did chew them both out afterwards.

Tag list: @km-ffluv, @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @doasyoudesireandlive

To get on my tag list, see my master list.

#stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #late writes #crack fic #stucky bingo #steve x bucky

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thisapplepielife · 6 months

Text

Written for the @steddiemas challenge.

Yours for the Weekend

Prompt Day 4: Winter-Themed Songs | Word Count: 8340 | Rating: M | CW: Mild Sexual Content | Tags: AU, No Upside Down, Future Fic, Going Home, Getting Back Together, Happy Ending, Eddie POV

Also available right here on A03.

Eddie steps out of the car, right between the Methodist church and the Hawkins High School building. It's changed. A new building, new paint scheme, a freshly paved parking lot. They've remodeled, and dozed down the memories, good and bad, that clung to this place.

The cafeteria is gone, moved somewhere new, he supposes.

Eddie isn't sentimental for school. He hated school, the three tries he had at his senior year are enough to prove that. But he misses that time, all the same. He misses Hellfire Club. He misses playing music in Gareth's garage. He misses their weekly Tuesday gig at The Hideout.

He misses his unlikely, and tentative friendship with Steve Harrington, that grew into their love that followed.

He doesn't miss his hometown, except for when he does.

"Since when do you miss this goddamn place?" Gareth asks, leaning over towards the driver's side from the passenger seat of the rental car. Stretching, trying to see Eddie's face as he stands outside the car.

He doesn't miss it. Not really.

"It's just changed. That's all," Eddie says, ducking down to look at Gareth. They've all changed.

"Come on, Eddie, it's fucking cold!" Goodie yells from the backseat, and Eddie hears Jeff shushing him.

Jeff's trying to give him a minute, even if the other two don't understand it. Eddie appreciates it. He doesn't really understand it himself. But driving by this place, and seeing it looking so different, did something to him he hadn't expected.

He escaped this place, and everything, everyone, in it.

That's all he ever wanted, and now…

Now, there's a lump in his throat that's hard to swallow around. He doesn't understand.

They're working in L.A., playing music every night. They aren't big, not really. Eddie sincerely doubts they'll ever be big. But they can afford to make music for a living, and that's not nothing. Not everyone can do that, but they've made it happen.

From living in a one bedroom apartment together, taking turns with who got the bedroom, while the rest of them crashed all over the living room until it was their turn again.

Then being able to afford two apartments. Right across the hall from each other. Jeff and Goodie in one, him and Gareth in the other. Their own separate bedrooms and everything.

To shopping around for single studios in nicer buildings, and just realizing that even though they can afford it, and somehow, they can, that they'd rather just stick together.

"Eddie!" Goodie yells again, and Eddie turns and puts his hands up in surrender, climbing back into the car.

Eddie drops Jeff off at home, then Goodie, and then it's just him and Gareth left in the car. Driving through the snow-packed streets of Hawkins.

"You could just talk to him, you know?" Gareth says, looking at Eddie, knowingly.

Eddie could try to deny it, but yeah, that's where his head has been since their plane touched down in Indiana. Where his head often is, always. But it's easier to push it to the back of his mind when there's some distance between him and his hometown. Between him and Steve.

"Yeah, well, last I heard he was getting married," Eddie says.

"That fell apart," Gareth says, "a long time ago. And you already know that."

Yeah, Eddie knows that. He just doesn't want to talk about it. He never wants to talk about, or hear about, what Steve's been up to since he's been gone. If he did, he'd ask. But it's none of his business, and it's not like Steve has been checking up on him, either. He's never flown out to L.A. and he definitely never asked Eddie to stay.

He let Eddie go, let him escape this place, and that was that.

"It's just easier not to," Eddie finally says.

"Sure it is," Gareth says, and Eddie cuts him a look.

"Since when are you on Team Steve?" Eddie asks. Gareth liked Steve just fine, but he was also the first in line to get out of this town, the minute he graduated high school and turned eighteen. He was definitely not at all concerned at the time that their skipping town meant Eddie's relationship with Steve would come to an end.

Gareth looks over at him, "What? I'm not. I'm Team Eddie. Always. But Team Eddie is kind of a sad sack team these days. We've got a losing record going, big time."

Eddie laughs, "Fair enough. But what do you know about sports? Nothing, last I checked."

"I played as a kid. Baseball. Soccer. You know, the usual suspects. Before I found the drums."

Eddie isn't sure he knew that. This is his best friend, and he's still learning things about him, all these years later.

"Just. Talk to him. Either finish it for good, or…"

"Just pick open some old scabs?" Eddie says, sarcastically.

"Sure, do that. We've got a first aid kit. We can bandage you up again. We did it the last time," Gareth says, and they did. They have. Over and over, for ten years. Without his friends, without his band, he doesn't know where he'd be. Aimless. Shiftless. A wanderer.

Just…lost.

"If I see him, I see him," Eddie finally concedes.

But he has no plans to see Steve Harrington. Not this trip. Not any trip.

He's snuck in and out of town a few times over the years, and hasn't ran into Steve yet. He's pretty sure they're on the same page about making sure they don't cross paths. And that's okay. Easier.

Finally alone, he pulls into Wayne's driveway in front of the comfortable little house. Eddie doesn't have a lot of money. But he worked his ass off while waiting for Gareth to finish high school. And every spare dime he had that wasn't earmarked for the band's move out west, went towards a house for Wayne.

It's not paid off, not by a long shot. But it's theirs. Their home. The trailer was starting to cost more to upkeep than a down payment on a house would be, so Eddie made that his goal. The last thing he'd do before he left town.

He did it. They'd moved Wayne in. Him and Gareth, Jeff and Goodie. Steve. The kids.

And then Steve had watched him go. It wasn't dramatic, their parting. The lore of it, between their friends, is far more interesting than the actual break-up ever was.

It was just quiet recognition that it was over. Eddie was going, and Steve was staying.

And he has stayed, all these years, as far as Eddie knows.

Steve opened an ice cream shop, selling artisan ice cream. Dustin has said Steve took some classes to learn how to make ice cream. Real ice cream. Fancy ice cream. And he took others to figure out how to run the business side. Ice cream, though. That's kind of a hilarious choice, after his stint at Scoops Ahoy when they were teens.

Less hilarious, was that Steve fell in love again, and almost married someone else. A woman Eddie never met, and he's glad. He couldn't have handled it. Not a chance in hell. But, it didn't matter, Eddie heard through the grapevine a year or two ago that the relationship had ended, just as quietly as theirs had.

At least Eddie had nothing to do with it. He would have, if all their mutual friends had gotten their way. Everybody had reached out, making sure he knew. Like it was his place to object. He left. Steve was bound to find someone else, eventually.

Eddie's never bothered with love again. He doesn't have the time or the energy. His heart was broken, by his own doing, a decade ago. And he's just never felt like sweeping up the shattered pieces of his heart, to try to give them to someone else.

It's broken, pretty much beyond repair, and he's used to it by now. He has one-night stands, he fucks around when the itch arises, but his heart? That's not in play. Not anymore. Been there, done that.

He gave that away a long time ago.

Steve never gave it back, and Eddie never asked him to, so, here they are.

Wayne opens the front door, and that's Eddie's cue. He steps out of the car and Wayne smiles.

Eddie jogs up the drive, careful of the ice, but he can't resist rushing into his arms, barreling into his chest, squeezing him tight.

"There's my boy," Wayne says quietly, and Eddie just holds on longer. He might be over thirty years old, but he's still Wayne's boy. Always has been, always will be. "Merry Christmas, Eddie. I'm glad you came home."

"Me too, old man."

Hawkins might be a place he's avoided, but he's missed Uncle Wayne like crazy.

He's thirty-two, but he suddenly feels much older, for some reason.

Wayne cooks them dinner, just like he always did, and Eddie sits down in the recliner next to him, plate in hand, right in front of the television.

The television is new since the last time Eddie was here, and large. Very large. Not at all in Wayne's usual style. Or budget.

"What possessed you to get a TV this big?" Eddie asks.

"Oh, a friend was getting a new one. Asked if I wanted this one. I said okay," Wayne says, not expanding on it. Like that's a full story.

"You finally got some rich friends I don't know about?" Eddie teases.

"You don't know everything about me, kid," Wayne teases back.

That's true. Wayne doesn't know everything about him either. Just most things. The things that matter the most.

"So, what are your plans while you're home?" Wayne asks.

And Eddie shrugs. They're only here for a few days. He just assumed he'd hang out around the house.

"Carolyn Jones called last week. She's expecting us all for dinner the day after Christmas," Wayne says.

And Eddie expected nothing less. Mama Jones will want to gather them all, now that they're home. Gareth didn't warn him, but Gareth probably didn't know about it either. His mom is always gonna do what she wants, anyway.

And she'll want all of her boys under her roof again, around her dining room table, for at least one meal.

So, they'll all go, parents included, and update them all on their lives in California. It'll be loud and a big production.

Not like tonight, just here with Wayne.

Eddie sits around and Wayne comes up behind his chair and hands him a bowl of ice cream. Eddie digs his spoon into it, and this definitely isn't from the cheap, plastic party buckets they used to buy while he was growing up.

This is pistachio. Good pistachio, his favorite flavor.

"Is this from…you know?"

He can't even say his name. He definitely can't eat his ice cream.

"No," Wayne says, and Eddie nods. Of course not. Eddie laughs just trying to picture Uncle Wayne buying fancy containers of Steve's ice cream. It's a ridiculous thought.

The next day, they have a quiet Christmas day at home, just the two of them. And they play the guitar together, and Eddie has fun like he hasn't in a long time. They should have made this trip longer. Only a couple days won't be enough.

They take turns picking songs to play, and it's just like it was when he was growing up. Before he got an attitude. He's missed Uncle Wayne, and this is the best Christmas Eddie's had in a long time.

The next morning, they're hanging around in Gareth's living room, like they don't see each other the other fifty-one weeks of the year.

"I'll make anything you boys want, you just have to go to the store and pick up the ingredients," Mama Jones says, and they start squabbling amongst themselves. All having different ideas.

"She's my mom. I should get to pick," Gareth whines, and the rest of them grumble, but concede. They've never had a bad meal in this house, and they expect tonight will be no different. No matter what Gareth chooses.

They all nod, and look at him, expectantly.

"Lasagna?" Gareth suggests, and that works. That definitely works.

In the store, they've split the list in half, Gareth taking one half, and Eddie taking the other. It's not even on the list, but Eddie stands in the freezer section for a long time, just staring at a small shelf of pints of ice cream. Dairy King Creamery. There's a locally made sticker on the glass, and these are Steve's, for sure.

Eddie reaches for the handle, and stops before he grasps it. That's not what they're here for. Not today. Maybe later, maybe before he goes back to L.A.

He wanders to an aisle he actually needs to be in, and he's squatted down, looking at all the different lasagna noodle choices. He doesn't know what the best option is. The cheapest? His instinct is always to go for the cheapest. But he consults his half of the list again.

Mama Jones has actually specified. That makes this much easier. So, he picks up three of the red boxes, and puts them in his basket, and pushes himself back upright.

"Eddie?"

Eddie hears the soft, familiar voice, and freezes.

Steve.

He turns and looks, and sure enough Steve is standing in the aisle of the Big Buy, right behind him. Pushing a cart full of groceries. Eddie wants to paw through them. Wants to learn something new about him.

He doesn't.

"Hi," Eddie says, just as soft.

Steve smiles at him, and Eddie smiles back. There's no bad blood here, not really, just distance. And time.

And then Steve is coming at him, clearly going to hug him, so Eddie just opens his arms. Wraps them around Steve, banging his basket against Steve's back, and holds on. He still smells like Steve, and Eddie leans into it for longer than he should, he's sure of it.

"Eddie, hurry up!" Gareth shouts, rounding the corner of the aisle.

Eddie turns his head, and Gareth has frozen like a deer in headlights. And Eddie steps back from Steve, reluctantly.

"Hey, Gareth," Steve says, crossing the distance, and offering him his hand.

Gareth takes it, and Eddie watches them shake.

"You all home this year?" Steve asks, looking between them, and they both nod.

"Yeah, all of us," Gareth says, once he realizes Eddie's not going to answer. He can't. His mouth is dry.

"Well, maybe I'll see you around town? I'm going to the Christmas parade tomorrow night, if either of you want to grab a hot chocolate and catch up or anything," Steve says, like it's an offer for the both of them.

It's not. It's an offer for Eddie. Eddie knows that. He's sure Gareth knows it, too.

Eddie nods, against his own will, but it makes Steve smile. So he doesn't regret it, too much. He doesn't have to go. Steve will understand if he doesn't show up.

And at that, Steve walks back towards his cart, grasping Eddie's shoulder and squeezing it on the way by.

Eddie watches him go, watches him walk away.

It is his turn to do that, after all.

When he turns the other way, Gareth's eyes are huge. Bugging out. Eddie just points at him, willing him to swallow all that down, at least until they're in the car.

Gareth seems to understand, and keeps quiet. Which is a Christmas miracle, for real.

It's only as he's bagging his groceries that he realizes the Christmas parade is after Christmas? What sense does that make?

"Is the Christmas parade really tomorrow? After Christmas?" Eddie asks the cashier, and she nods.

"They wanted it on Saturday, and well, you know Hawkins," she says.

Yeah, Eddie knows Hawkins.

They load the groceries into the rental car, and Eddie watches as Steve does the same across the parking lot, putting his stuff in the back seat of his pickup. Steve Harrington has a pickup now. Eddie would have never guessed that.

As soon as they're in the car, Gareth is vibrating.

"Okay, just let it out," Eddie says, resigned.

"You were fucking hugging him!" Gareth yells, and Eddie just looks at him, waiting to see if he's finished. Surely, this mouthy little shit has more to say than just that. But he just looks at Eddie.

"Was I supposed to dodge it? He hugged me first, I'll have you know."

"And you hated that, I'm sure," Gareth says, rolling his eyes.

"I never said that," Eddie answers.

"Well?"

"Well, what? I saw him. It was fine. We both lived."

"Are you going to the parade tomorrow?" Gareth asks.

"Probably not," Eddie says, and Gareth laughs as Eddie's putting the car into reverse. Gareth clearly isn't believing him. That's okay.

He shouldn't believe him.

Of course he's going.

And the next night, Eddie stands on the street, looking like he's waiting for the parade to start. But he's only waiting on Steve. Maybe Steve won't show up? Maybe it wasn't a real offer? Maybe he was just being nice?

But those thoughts, those fears, all melt away when he sees Steve pushing his way through the crowded sidewalk, stopping in front of Eddie, smiling.

"You want that hot chocolate?" Steve asks, and Eddie rubs his hands together. It's cold out here, so yeah, that sounds pretty damn good, right about now. At least it'll give him something to do with his hands.

Steve leads him down the street, and Eddie follows. He's not sure where they're going, but Steve pauses in front of a darkened storefront. Eddie looks up. It's Steve's store, and Eddie watches as Steve pushes the key into the lock, and turns it, pushing the door open.

The little bell on the door, ringing out in the silence.

Once they're inside the warmth of the shop, Steve locks the door behind them again, and nods for Eddie to follow him to the back. Eddie does, looking around as he goes. The wall is decorated with old pictures. The kids. Robin. Lots of Steve and Robin, together. Several of them in their Scoops Ahoy uniforms as teens.

He wonders where Robin is. This ice cream shop is half her baby, too, he's pretty sure. They don't do anything without each other. It's impossible.

There's a larger one of a teenage Steve, armed with an ice cream scoop, his other hand on his hip, looking very serious. He wasn't. Couldn't be, not in that little sailor suit. It makes Eddie smile. He remembers those days, with a hazy fondness. It's been so long now, but he can still picture Steve Harrington behind that brightly lit counter, just glowing.

Eddie keeps looking at the pictures, and there's one of him, too. With the band, when they were young, and still playing The Hideout every week.

Eddie runs his finger over the glass, and feels an ache in his chest. This was so long ago. A lifetime, really. He hasn't felt that young in a very long time. Gareth was a baby. They all were.

"You comin'?" Steve asks, and Eddie follows the sound of his voice. Steve's standing behind the counter, holding up the divider for Eddie, just like he did all those years ago in Scoops Ahoy. He looks even better now, in a warm sweater instead of dumb sailor hat.

"Yeah, I'm coming," Eddie says, and he shrugs off his coat and hangs it on the rack at the front of the store before he follows Steve to the back, where he watches Steve make two mugs of hot chocolate.

"From packets, Harrington? I thought this was an artisan shop?" Eddie teases.

"Artisan ice cream, I said nothing about artisan hot chocolate," Steve banters back.

Eddie had expected a cup of hot chocolate from some sort of street vendor anyway, not one Steve made in the office of his store. His private space, that Eddie's been invited into. To look around, to spend some time with his first love.

His only love, honestly.

Eddie sits down on the couch, and soon enough he's being handed a steaming mug, and Steve is sitting down next to him, knees bumping against each other.

It's nothing. But it's also everything.

He's missed him so goddamn much. They can't go ten years without seeing each other again. No matter how painful it might be to look and not touch. Steve's too important. He's always been too important.

"Your shop is perfect, Steve," Eddie finally says, waiting on his mug to cool.

"Thanks, Eddie," Steve says, "it's been pretty good. Even in the winter, surprisingly."

"That's great, I'm happy for you," Eddie says, smiling at him. "Why ice cream? Didn't you get enough of slinging it during high school?"

Steve smiles, "You know I make a mean scoop."

And he does. Long, steady strokes with precision. Perfect balls.

Eddie laughs, that sounds dirtier in his head than he meant it to. Years ago, he could have shared that thought out loud, but they aren't in that place together, not anymore.

Steve keeps talking, "I just thought, I can do this better. Better quality, better flavors. Just…better."

"It looks like you definitely did," Eddie says, and he means that.

Steve just shrugs, non-committal. But this is great. If he's been able to package it for retail sale, even just locally, that's really something.

"How's the band doing?" Steve asks, changing the subject. Or not, maybe. Maybe this is just pleasantries. All they have to say to each other, after all these years.

"Good. Good, we've got some great long-standing gigs. Guaranteed slots. We play most nights, somewhere or the other, and don't have to travel to do it," Eddie explains.

"That's great," Steve says.

They both just keep saying how great things are. Things aren't great. Not really.

"I'm happy you guys have made it," Steve adds.

Eddie laughs, "Made it might be a bit of a stretch, but we're working. We all do a lot of session work, Gareth especially. Session drummers are always needed, here or there."

"Do you have another job?" Steve asks, and Eddie knows exactly where this is going.

"No," Eddie still answers.

"Then you've made it, I say. You are a professional musician. Maybe not a famous one-"

"Hey!" Eddie interrupts, just ribbing him. He's right. But Steve often is. He was right to encourage them to take a chance on it. To see if they could make it work. And they have. They are professional musicians. Together, and apart.

"Goodie's got a girlfriend he's getting serious with. I think he's gonna move in with her, soon," Eddie says. "Maybe get married."

Eddie regrets saying it, as soon as it leaves his big mouth.

"I heard you were going to get married. I'm sorry that didn't work out," Eddie says, looking at his hands.

"Thanks, it just wasn't meant to be, you know?" Steve asks.

And, yeah, Eddie knows.

"Do you still live with Gareth?" Steve asks, and Eddie watches as his face tightens, like he regrets asking. Eddie gets it. He'd be too scared to ask, too.

So, Eddie answers fast, putting him out of his misery.

"Yep, I'll never be able to shake that kid," Eddie says, and Steve chuckles.

"You wouldn't want to if you could," Steve says, and that's the truth. He wouldn't. He likes living with Gareth. He isn't lonely. And he's with someone he loves. That's a comfort Eddie wouldn't want to give up even if he could.

It might not be a love like he once shared with Steve, but it's still a love. Platonic with a capital P, as Robin would say.

"Where's Robin?" Eddie asks, once she's popped into his head. Seeing Steve once without Robin might be normal, but twice? No way.

"She's on a Christmas cruise," Steve says, with a grin.

"No fucking way. The Robin I knew would never."

"The Robin you knew wasn't ass over teakettle in love," Steve says, smiling. "I'm happy for her. Even if she left me alone for Christmas. She invited me to come, of course, and I thought third-wheeling it on a ship to Mexico might be fun. And warm, at least. So, I considered it, but one of us needed to stay with the shop."

Eddie thinks he was thisclose to missing Steve on this trip, too. If he'd decided to just close up the shop and go with her.

"Well, good for her. Tell her I said hi," Eddie says.

"I definitely will," Steve says with a smile. "I'm sure she'll say hi back."

Eddie isn't so sure about that. Robin was very against Eddie leaving back then, and wasn't scared to let them all know. She was the only one fighting for them to stay, and she lost, all her protests drowned out by Eddie's need to run.

"Did you have a good Christmas?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah, it was quiet. A day off, though, so that was nice," Steve says. "You?"

"Yeah, it was just Wayne and me at the house. But that was good."

"I'm sure he's missed you," Steve says.

"I've definitely missed him," Eddie answers, because he has. More than he realized, maybe.

This is getting too serious, too sad, so Eddie needs to fix that.

"Am I gonna get to try any of this famous ice cream?" Eddie asks, changing the subject to something lighter, and Steve laughs, but jerks his head towards the front of the store.

He picks up one of the little sample spoons, and dips it into a tub, and hands it to Eddie.

"What is it?" Eddie asks.

"Just try it, Munson," Steve says, and Eddie does as he was told.

It's sweet, and chocolate based, but with a depth Eddie can't put his finger on.

"Chocolate Cherry Bourbon," Steve says, and Eddie smiles.

"It's good. Really good," Eddie says. And it is. It's very smooth on the tongue, like the best ice creams all are.

"It's Wayne's favorite, I think," Steve says, and Eddie looks over at him. He never considered that Wayne would still be in contact with Steve on any sort of regular basis. But they still live in the same town, and Wayne didn't break up with Steve. Eddie did.

"But he also likes this one," Steve adds, getting a new little spoonful and offering it up to Eddie.

Eddie puts that one in his mouth, too.

"Oh, shit, that's good," Eddie says, closing his eyes to savor it.

"Butterscotch-Infused Whiskey and Pecans," Steve says.

"An ocean of flavor," Eddie teases, and Steve hip-checks him.

And then Steve gets him another sample, and this one isn't spiked, Eddie doesn't think, anyway. But it's bright red with black and white swirls.

It's a punch of chocolate, deep and rich. And maybe cream cheese? Eddie isn't a professional taste tester. But it's very good.

"Hellfire," Steve says, with a smirk, "hope you don't mind."

Eddie swallows. Of course he doesn't mind. That Steve would even want to name it after something Eddie loved so deeply, is really something.

"Of course I don't mind," Eddie says, handing the used spoon back to Steve and watching as he tosses it in the trash along with the others. "I'm honored. That you'd, you know, think of me. Of Hellfire."

Steve's whole face softens, "Eddie. I think about you all the time."

And Eddie is moving before he's even decided to do it. Pressing his cold lips against Steve's warm ones. Steve catches him and kisses him back, tangling his hand in Eddie's hair. It's desperate, this kiss. Demanding, and pent up, with years of wanting.

Years of waiting.

Eddie clings to him, desperate to be closer to him. Because he is desperate for Steve, there's no denying that.

He always has been.

When they finally, finally break apart, both breathing hard. Chests heaving with the intensity of it all, Eddie smiles. He's embarrassed. But not that embarrassed.

"Wanna get out of here?" Steve asks, and Eddie nods. "You want an ice cream for the road?"

And you know, Eddie does, so he nods again.

So, Steve grabs a waffle cone, and piles it high with a fourth untested flavor, handing it over.

Eddie licks it, and it's pistachio. Eddie's favorite.

"My favorite," Eddie says, and Steve smiles.

"Yeah, I remember," Steve says, and that settles right into Eddie's chest.

Steve reaches into the freezer and turns the little sign that's stuck into the ice cream around, so Eddie can read it: Eddie's Pistachio.

He grins at Steve, and takes another lick. This one with a promise behind it.

Steve helps him put on his coat, trying to help him juggle it and the cone. And when they step onto the street, Steve looks at him, "You drive here?"

Eddie shakes his head. Wayne only lives a couple blocks away, and he figured finding parking would be a bigger hassle than just walking.

Steve puts his hand on the small of Eddie's back, and leads him around the block, and then into the alley. His pickup is parked back there. There's a perk, Eddie supposes. Dedicated parking.

Eddie climbs up in it, and settles in, still licking his ice cream cone. And Steve pulls them onto the street, and away from the parade. Since most of the town is there, the streets are dead. And Eddie looks around, taking in the lights.

Steve knows what he's doing, of course he does, so he steers them into Loch Nora, and lets him look at the rich houses, decorated to the nines. At least that's never changed.

They pass Harrington House, and Eddie wonders if Steve lives there. Or, if his parents still do. Steve reads his mind.

"My mom and dad flew south a few years ago," Steve says, "and by that time I had my own house, so they sold it."

Eddie nods. He knows it's hard to leave your childhood home, permanently. He's done it twice. He's an expert, and it hurts in a way you never expect, and you never really get over. That the place you grew up, isn't yours to call home anymore.

"I'm sorry," Eddie says, and Steve smiles.

"It's okay. I like my house," Steve says. "You want to see it?"

And Eddie swallows. He knows what that offer entails, if he wants it to, and he nods, "Yeah. I do."

"Finish that cone, and we'll do that," Steve says, and it's husky and full of promise.

Eddie licks faster.

They pull up in front of a house in one of the nicer neighborhoods, but not Loch Nora. And Eddie follows Steve up the path, and onto the porch. Once they're inside, Steve pushes his front door closed behind them, grappling for Eddie's coat, trying to strip it off his shoulders, but they're too close to each other. Too tangled, and Eddie laughs.

He helps the process along, shedding it, finally.

And then he's attached to Steve, again. It's desperate, and he should probably be embarrassed, but he's not. He needs this. He needs Steve. He's always needed Steve.

And he lets Steve lead him to his bedroom.

Steve's walking him backwards, kissing him, hands roaming all over Eddie's body.

"Where have you been all my life?" Eddie asks, pressing his face into Steve's neck.

"Right here where you left me," Steve answers, but there's no heat behind it, only the truth.

And Eddie presses his lips to Steve's neck, and smiles when Steve moans under his touch. Eddie loves to know that he can still play him like a goddamn fiddle, it makes him endlessly happy.

Steve kicks open his bedroom door, and pulls his shirt over his head. Eddie follows his lead, and watches as Steve digs in his nightstand, producing a bottle of lube and a row of condoms.

He throws them on the bed, and starts pulling his jeans down.

Fuck, yes.

After, Steve is stroking the back of his hand, legs tangled together, the sheet pooled around their waists. Eddie hasn't been this warm in years. This comfortable. Not since Steve, the first time.

"I know you have a whole life there, and I have a whole life here," Steve says, "but if you want to pretend things are the same, just for a while. Just while you're here. We could. We can, you know. I've missed you."

And Eddie wants.

Wants that more than anything, but he's scared that blundering down the road not taken is just going to hurt more than ever before once they reach that fork at the end, again. That dead end that separates them off, again.

But he's already in this. The damage has been done. So, he turns and smiles. Nodding.

"I've missed you, too."

And the grin Steve gives him is blinding.

"I could be your sweetheart, again, just for the weekend. While you're home," Steve says, like that isn't something that's going to break Eddie's fucking heart.

Eddie gathers up Steve's hand, and pulls it to his chest, his heart.

Steve's been his sweetheart for a long time, together or not.

"You've always been my sweetheart," Eddie says, and it might sound like bullshit, but it's the truth. It's always been the truth.

Steve burrows closer, resting his head on Eddie's chest. Over his heart. He runs his fingers over Eddie's bare stomach, touching the tattoos there. He's gotten a lot more ink since he's seen Steve last, and Steve is touching them all, getting acquainted.

Eddie runs his hand down Steve's arm, pausing at a raised scar under his elbow.

"Oven rack. Decided right then and there that cookies in the shop were a no go," Steve says, laughing a little into Eddie's skin.

"Sounds wise," Eddie says, and he'd kiss the scar if he could reach it. Later. He'll do it later.

The door that was cracked open, pushes open wider, and Eddie just about jumps out of his skin.

"That's just Pudding," Steve says, as a big, fluffy cream colored cat jumps up onto the bed. Then stopping at the foot, looking at Eddie.

Steve laughs, "It's fine, Puddy. C'mere, boy. It's just Eddie."

Like the cat is going to understand that, Eddie thinks, but the cat stomps up Steve's legs, and then steps a tentative paw onto Eddie's bare chest. Eddie reaches out and pets him on head, and the big cat leans into Eddie's touch.

"See? You're already friends," Steve says, and he isn't sure if Steve is talking to him or the cat.

The cat meows, and then hops down, before walking back out the door he'd opened.

Steve curls back up against Eddie, wrapping his arm over his chest.

"You'll still be here in the morning, right?" Steve asks.

"I'll still be here," Eddie promises, and closes his eyes.

And he is, and they sleep in, just lazing in bed all morning. Trading kisses, and blow jobs, and just touching each other all over before Steve has to get up and open the shop. He drops Eddie back off at Wayne's with a goodbye kiss, and Wayne steps out on the porch, and waves. Steve waves back, and Eddie trudges through the snow towards the house. It snowed more overnight, leaving a fresh layer of white all over town.

It looks brand new.

It feels brand new.

Eddie slips past Wayne at the door, "Don't say a word, old man."

"I wouldn't dare," Wayne answers, holding the door open for him.

When the doorbell rings, Eddie's hopeful, for just a second, that it's Steve. But Steve's at work, and Robin's out of the country.

So, it's not Steve, it's just Gareth.

"I tried to call you this morning. Wayne said you didn't come home last night," Gareth says, slightly snippy.

He pushes past Eddie, already hanging up his coat. Eddie guesses he's staying.

"So, I take it you two talked," Gareth says, finally looking at Eddie.

"Yeah, we talked," Eddie says.

"And fucked?" Gareth asks, and Eddie isn't going to be shamed by this kid.

"And fucked. What of it?"

"Was just trying to gauge how bad the cleanup from this was gonna be. So, bad, right?"

Eddie shrugs. He doesn't think so. It doesn't feel bad right now, but maybe it will when the weekend ends, and he's back in L.A., without Steve, again.

"We were just two old friends, having some casual sex," Eddie says, knowing it's a lie even as it rolls off his tongue.

Gareth laughs, "You and I are old friends. And we don't have casual sex with each other."

"Did you want to? You never said," Eddie teases, and Gareth shoves his shoulder.

Eddie smiles at him, then decides to be honest, "You know what I mean. It's comfortable, with Steve. With someone you know that well, even if a lot of time has passed. It was just like riding a bike."

"Eddie…"

"Gareth…" Eddie mocks, then softens, "I'm a big boy. I know what I've done."

"I hope so," Gareth says, digging around in Wayne's fridge, then moving to the freezer.

"And you're already buying his fancy-ass ice cream, you're just asking to suffer," Gareth says, plucking a tub out of the freezer.

"Those aren't mine, and Wayne's a dirty liar," Eddie laughs. "He gave me some the other night, and I asked if it was Steve's, and he said no."

"Well, it is from the Dairy King himself," Gareth says, popping off the lid of a bright purple container, peeling back the foil seal, and getting a spoon. "You want?"

Eddie lets Gareth feed him a spoonful, and it's good. They've all been good so far, but Eddie's not really surprised.

He turns the container in Gareth's hand so he can read the label: Lavender Berry.

"Are you gonna give me shit about this?" Eddie asks, and Gareth just looks at him. Shoving another spoonful in his mouth.

Then, Gareth looks away, and that's not the reaction Eddie was expecting.

"What?" Eddie asks.

"You are coming home with us, right? Back to L.A.?" Gareth asks, not looking at him.

Eddie reaches forward and squeezes both of his shoulders, "Yes, I'm going home with you. I promise."

Gareth nods, but doesn't really look like he believes him, and Eddie understands why.

Wayne comes in later and nods at them.

"I owe you some ice cream," Gareth says, and Wayne just nods again.

Wayne just doesn't get too worked up about things like that. He knew Eddie was home. Anything in house would be fair game to eat, as far as Wayne would remember.

"So, I thought that ice cream the other night wasn't Steve's?" Eddie asks, eyeing Wayne as he stands by his edge of the couch.

"Steve's? You never asked if it was Steve's, you asked if it was you know's and it sure wasn't," Wayne says, with just a hint of a smirk.

"You're an asshole, old man."

"Learned it from you," Wayne says back, and pops Eddie on the head with the newspaper he has in his hand.

Eddie grins up at him

Steve turns up again, after his shop has closed for the evening, and while they didn't have plans, Eddie was waiting on him. Steve has a brown paper sack, and opens the freezer and starts refilling it.

"Gareth stopped by earlier, said he owed Wayne some ice cream," Steve says, replacing a purple pint container just like the one Gareth had eaten, and then several others.

Eddie picks up a green one: Eddie's Pistacho.

It's a love letter, and one Steve probably assumed Eddie would never read.

"He didn't owe him that much ice cream," Eddie teases, and Steve laughs.

"Some are from me. I try to keep him stocked up," Steve says, and Eddie loves him for that. He loves him for lots of things, but especially that he's still stayed in contact with Wayne while Eddie was gone.

Wayne's out at his usual bar with his friends, and Steve settles onto the couch with Eddie, draping arm over Eddie's shoulders. It looks casual, but it's not. Eddie knows better, but he doesn't care, and he leans into Steve's side.

They hadn't made plans, but Eddie had still expected him. He thinks they're gonna just gonna act like nothing has changed, for these couple days. He's okay with that, okay with anything he can get.

Steve is scratching his blunt nails against Eddie's jeans, and it's driving Eddie a little crazy.

"Want to go out and eat, or…" Steve trails off.

"Anything is good with me," Eddie answers, and that's true.

Steve gets up and starts going through Wayne's cabinets, and watching him, Eddie is certain it's not the first time he's been in this house, in that kitchen. Wayne has never mentioned that, but Eddie understands why he didn't.

"We could make pancakes?" Steve offers, and Eddie nods.

It's just a box mix, but they stand together, and watch each pancake brown and bubble in the old cast iron pan. Steve's putting butter down to melt before spooning each one into the hot skillet. They're thick and fluffy, and when they sit down at the bar to eat them, they are pretty damn good for being from a box.

Eddie doesn't cook all that much with their weird, late hours, and Gareth doesn't either, so they rely on delivery and take-out a lot more than they should. They could make pancakes from a box. Maybe they should, more often. Get his own cast iron pan, and grow up, maybe.

After they've eaten, they do the dishes, side-by-side, and one thing leads to another, and they push and pull each other into Eddie's bedroom, not stopping until they're sprawled out on the bed, Steve on top of him.

Eddie cups Steve's face, and Steve leans into his touch, turning his face until he can press a kiss into Eddie's palm.

And that's…everything. The dam between has not only sprung a leak, it's now rushing out full speed, wide open.

"Sweetheart," Eddie says, and Steve closes his eyes, just leaning into Eddie's touch.

"I still love you, Eddie," Steve says, eyes still closed.

And Eddie grips his hip with his other hand, "I still love you, too."

Then Steve presses down, grinding their bodies together, and it's like no time has passed. Like he's still twenty-two, and madly in love with his boy.

No, now he's thirty-two, and madly in love with this man.

They're cuddled up on the couch, watching television, when Wayne comes home.

"Night, boys," Wayne says as he passes through, heading on to bed.

"Well, I should go," Steve says, standing.

Eddie stands with him.

"You can stay, you know," Eddie says, and Steve nods. They fly out tomorrow. He wants Steve to stay. Or he'll go home with Steve. Whatever Steve wants. He wants one more night with him, however he can get it.

And Steve walks to the guest room, so Eddie follows. The sheets are still a tangled mess from earlier, and he's sure Wayne noticed as he walked by. Eddie doesn't care, and he knows that Wayne doesn't either.

Eddie didn't pack a lot of clothes, but he rummages through what he has, and throws Steve a t-shirt and a pair of boxers.

Steve holds them, and smiles back at him.

They get ready for bed, and then curl up together under the quilt. Hands and mouths wandering, as they whisper promises to each other in the dark that Eddie hopes they can keep.

When the sun peeks through the curtains, Eddie groans. He's not ready. He wasn't ready the first time, and he's definitely not ready now. They eat breakfast with Wayne, sitting around the kitchen table, drinking coffee, just talking. After Wayne goes to work, hugging Eddie goodbye until next time, they take a shower together, and Eddie memorizes every inch of Steve's body. Every new mole, every new scar. The fact that he has even thicker chest hair than he had, before.

Eddie wants to remember it all.

There's a horn honking out front, and it's the band, ready to go. Eddie's not ready. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

He hugs Steve a little longer, before the honking becomes too much to ignore. Wayne's neighbors are gonna get pissed.

Eddie opens the front door to acknowledge them, and none of them seem surprised to see Steve following him out of the house. He supposes Gareth told them, or Steve's truck in the drive gave it away.

Steve leans in, hugging Eddie again, pressing their lips together, before breaking apart. Steve leans his face close to Eddie's, "It was nice to be your sweetheart again."

And Eddie wants to cry, might just do it.

He cups Steve's cheek, "You're always gonna be my sweetheart."

"Can we-"

"Eddie, c'mon! We're gonna miss our flight!" Goodie screams from the backseat, interrupting Steve. A broken record, that one.

Steve has him pressed against the side of the car, but Eddie manages to get his hand behind him, flipping Goodie off through the window. He feels the window coming down, and he snatches his hand back before Goodie crushes his hand, or bites his fingers. Something unpleasant, for sure.

Eddie pushes off the car, still kissing Steve, still pressed close together.

When they finally break apart, Eddie rests his forehead on Steve's.

"We're gonna make this work, right?" Eddie asks. "For longer than the weekend?"

And Steve nods.

"I gotta go now," Eddie says, even if he doesn't want to. Not at all. "But I'd rather stay with you. You know that, right? I'm not running from you. Not again."

"I know. Call me when you get home," Steve says.

"I will," Eddie promises.

"I'll come see you next month," Steve promises, and Eddie squeezes him harder.

"Eddie!" Jeff yells, and Eddie knows that's his actual cue. If Jeff's getting involved, they actually are running late.

"I love you, sweetheart," Eddie says, "I've always loved you."

"I've always loved you, too," Steve echoes, and Eddie kisses him one more time.

And then they're driving away, Steve in the rearview mirror, just like he was a decade ago.

Only, this time, he's smiling and waving.

Eddie leans out of the passenger window, and winter air is freezing, but he looks back, waves, and blows Steve a kiss.

He can't see the details of Steve's face, not from this far, but he sees his hands in his pockets, and how he rocks backwards on his heels. And Eddie can read that body language, perfectly, even all these years later.

He's laughing.

Eddie slides back into his seat, and he smiles, pulling his hair over his mouth.

"Jesus Christ," Goodie mumbles, and Eddie tosses his head back and laughs. Gareth reaches over and pats him on the thigh, and Eddie turns and smiles at him, and Gareth is smiling back.

"Hey, sweetheart," Eddie says, wedging the phone against his ear as he's unpacking his suitcase.

"Hey, honey," Steve says, and Eddie can hear the smile on his face. "Your flight okay?"

"Uneventful. Except Goodie acting like a big ol' baby. He's thirty years old and still scared to fly. He's ridiculous. We haven't crashed yet," Eddie teases and Steve laughs.

"Be nice," Steve tells him, and Eddie laughs. Impossible. If they weren't making fun of each other, something would really be wrong. "Robin's home. She's mad she missed the big reunion."

"Well, she should haven't decided to go on a Christmas cruise," Eddie says.

"That's what I said!" Steve hollers, and Eddie can hear Robin in the background scrabbling for the phone.

"Hey, dingus número dos" she says.

"Hey, Buckley," Eddie says, "sorry I missed you."

"Yeah, yeah, I bet you are," she says, like she's threatening. She's not threatening. Well, not too threatening. "You better listen to me, Munson. If you hurt him-"

"I know, I know," Eddie says, "I'm in to win it, Buckley."

"You better be," she says, and then she lowers her voice to a whisper, "I've missed you, too, you know."

"Back at you, Robbie," he says.

"Do I get to come visit with Steve?" she asks, and Eddie smiles.

"Any time you want to," he promises.

"I'll hold you to that," she assures, "I'll just want until you've got all the fucking out of your system."

"That's never gonna happen," Eddie says, and she laughs.

"I'm happy for him, and for you, too. Took you long enough," she says.

He laughs.

They've been in this thing, alone and apart. Now, they're gonna be in it, together and apart. Hopefully not forever, but this is an improvement, that's for goddamn sure.

"How was your cruise with your lady love?" Eddie asks, and Robin laughs.

"It was great," she says, and tells him all about it, and then she pauses for a long few seconds, and Eddie wonders if the call has dropped, but then she's speaking again, softly, "We should all go together, next year."

"Count me in," Eddie says easily, "now, put my sweetheart back on."

And Robin says bye and does just that.

"Hi, it's me again," Steve says, and Eddie couldn't be happier.

Him again is the dream.

And Eddie listens as Steve talks about his newest flavor idea, and Eddie can't wait to try it the next time he's back home. He doesn't know what their long-term plan looks like, just that they're gonna do this life thing together for a while. See what happens.

They didn't do so hot flying solo, so he's definitely ready to try it as partners again. Now that they're both older. Now that they both know what they want, and who they love.

It's gonna work out this time, Eddie can feel it.

And he smiles, Steve's voice in his ear.

Notes: I know this song has been done roughly a million times in every fandom. But it was on the song list for a reason. Because it's a damn good fic prompt. So, more cake? I hope.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiemas and follow along! 🍨

If you want to see more of my entries from this challenge, they are in my Steddiemas tag right here!

#steddiemas #winter-themed songs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things fic #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddiemas #gareth (stranger things)#jeff stranger things #goodie (unnamed freak)#corroded coffin boys #gareth & eddie #steddie fic #christmas fic #'tis the damn season

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