#or that I’m still walking with excruciating pain just because I have a high pain tolerance

[bookish-whore]

Meant to Be

Azriel x Reader

Words: 7k

Warnings: fluff, mutual pining, suggestive sexual behavior, angst angst angst angst (I’m warning you it's verryy angsty), canon typical violence, major bloodloss, character death

A/N: Okay this is the longest fic I have written so far and it might be the saddest thing I’ve ever written. It is loosely based on this lovely request. I took a few liberties with the plot, but I ended up really loving it and I hope you do too. <3

My Masterlist -> Here

Join my Taglist -> Here

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

Azriel sprinted through the woods.

He knew there wasn’t much time, and he was desperate. He continued trying to use his magic but the faebane coursing through his body prevented him from winnowing, from using his shadows, and from communicating to the high lord.

He was stranded.

He held your body close, attempting to shield you from the rain, although the storm was the least of his worries. He was most concerned about the deep gash across your abdomen, the wound had been steadily bleeding with no indication of slowing down. You had already lost so much blood, he needed to get you to a healer and quickly before it was too late. He pushed that thought out of his head. You would not die; He wouldn’t allow it.

He took a deep breath, praying to the mother that you would be alright. You suddenly stirred in his arms, the movement catching him off guard. You whimpered; the pain must be excruciating and the sound of you in pain ignited a raging fire beneath his skin.

Azriel held you closer, hoping that his scent would help calm you. Even though you didn’t know about the mating bond, he had to hope that your fae instincts would still recognize the connection and that it would help soothe you.

“Shhhh it’s alright little dove, I’ve got you” he whispered into your hair as he clutched you to his chest. The rain droplets steadily sliding off his skin and onto your face.

You coughed, it was a wet sputtering sound and Azriel looked down to find blood trickling out of your mouth. He fell to his knees cradling you in his arms. “Y/n, stay with me, just a little longer” he pleaded as your eyes closed once more.

You were still breathing, but only barely, a death rattle settling in as your body began to shut down. He picked you up in a swift motion leaping into the air, opening his wings wide as he took off. He knew the flight would only exacerbate your injuries, but he was running out of time. He had no other choice.

72 hours earlier…

Azriel had no idea why he was being summoned to the High Lord’s office, he had just seen Rhys and Feyre last night for dinner and he couldn’t fathom what was so urgent. That was until he walked into Rhys and Feyre’s office to find none other than Eris Vanserra engaged in a hearty conversation with his high lord and lady.

Eris had been a spy for the Night Court for some time now. It began a few years ago, during the war and as it turns out Eris was a decent male, he much like Rhys, had been perceived as a villain because his circumstances demanded it, Eris was the next in line to inherit the Autumn Court and once his father was dead and he could ascended the throne he ensured them that a series of changes would happen in the Autumn Court.

Eris greeted Azriel with a simple nod of his head and began to share his information, what pained the shadowsinger was that it was good information and was the key to a number of issues that had been steadily piling up.

Apparently, Beron had been busy these last few weeks, building alliances with some of the more traditional Illyrian Lords attempting to persuade them into a full-blown rebellion against Rhysand. This wasn’t surprising considering Azriel’s own reports stated that there was increased tension and unease within the training camps. What Eris revealed is that the incidents that were drawing attention were staged to draw out the more powerful members of the court. Beron had been hoping to kidnap a member of the inner circle for leverage. Thankfully, it wasn’t going according to plan.

That information caught the High Lord’s attention. Rhysand immediately laid out his plan, he wanted to infiltrate Beron’s ranks, to find who exactly was calling the shots.

Which was why he summoned y/n.

Azriel shifted in his seat. He knew y/n was capable, he had trained her himself but that meant he would be in close proximity to her which might prove to be a problem considering she was his mate, and she had no idea and Azriel was content to keep it that way for now.

There was a quiet knock on the door.

“Come in” Feyre yelled

The door opened and in walked y/n, Azriel couldn’t help but admire her as she made her way across the room to them.

“Y/n, thank you for joining us on such short notice” Rhysand said

“Of course, it sounded urgent, and your letter said it was time sensitive” she said taking her seat opposite Azriel

“It is, Eris has told us that there’s going to be a ball in the Autumn Court tomorrow evening, and I want you and Azriel to attend as emissaries to the Night Court.” Rhysand began “You’ll be gathering information on Beron’s dealings, who he sees and what they discuss but I do not want either of you to engage. This is strictly reconnaissance. From an outside perspective you will purely be there as my emissaries for the Fall Equinox”

“When will we leave” Azriel asked

“Today” the high lord answered “I want you to arrive with all the other guests, it’ll make it easier to blend in”

Y/n nodded along through the remaining details, they would be staying in the Forest House with the other guests attending the festivities and Eris would alert them of any activity they should be privy to.

Azriel and Y/n packed quickly, said their goodbyes and they began the long journey to the Autumn Court.

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

After nearly 24 hours of traveling, taking lots of breaks for Azriel to rest between distances we arrived in the Autumn Court.

 It wasn’t what I expected.

I guess hearing stories from Lucien and Eris about their father and their upbringing I somewhat expected the Forest House to be more ominous looking. Azriel and I exchanged a quick glance as we walked up to the gates of a gorgeous stone manor with lots of windows, surrounded by changing greenery. The trees varying shades of violet, red, orange, and yellows. It was idyllic really.

When we reached the doors, Azriel reached to grab the elegant bronze fox door knocker, hitting it against the wood to alert our hosts we had arrived. I wrung my hands in front of me, nervous as the door opened to reveal Eris? I was surprised he answered and not one of the servants in the house. He opened the door and gestured for us to enter, he was trailed by three massive black dogs, with a snap of his fingers they immediately ran off in a tight formation.

“Welcome to the Forest House” he said, making a show of taking my hand and planting a kiss to the top of it. Azriel looked annoyed at that gesture. I didn’t mind, it was all about appearances and we didn’t know who was watching us.

As we walked through the halls of the manor, I took in the paintings lining the long halls and the dark décor that adorned the house. It felt like we walked for ages, through winding halls until we stood outside double white doors.

“This is where you’ll be staying, remember that the ball is tonight in the west ballroom, formal dress, and don’t be late you don’t want to draw attention to yourselves” Eris said before unlocking the door and stalking down the hall back the way we had come.

Azriel and I looked at each other and entered the room.

It was really a stunning space, we were on the fourth floor and the window overlooked the trees in the forest surrounding us, it was an array of orange, red, and violet as far as I could see. There was a fireplace and a sitting area with a couch and some armchairs. The chairs nowhere near large enough to accommodate Azriel’s wings. I took in the other aspects of the room. there was an ensuite bathroom with a large sunken bath and a shower, at least the bath was large enough for an Illyrian, I thought as I surveyed the rest. My eyes locked on the last detail. The bed.

One Bed.

I felt a blush creep into my face as Azriel and I made the same observation.

“Don’t worry y/n. I can sleep on the couch” he said breaking the silence

“Don’t be ridiculous” I said “You would never fit on that couch”

He laughed at that “You’re right, perhaps the bath then” he raised his eyebrow suggestively

“We can figure out sleeping arrangements later” I tried to redirect the conversation away from beds and sleeping as I made my way to the closet.

“Y/n we are both responsible adults, we can just share the bed” he said

“I wouldn’t want Elain to suspect anything” I said, my back turned to him as I unpacked some clothes for tonight.

“Why would she suspect anything?” Azriel asked as he made his way over to me to continue the conversation

My eyes widened, had I misread their relationship? “Well, I figured that you two…”

“Were together?” he prodded

I nodded my head in answer “aren’t you?” I asked

“No” he looked at the floor, hiding the grin that spread across his face “She is just a friend, I helped her a lot while she was transitioning to fae life but there has never been anything romantic between us, she has a mate and I respect that”

“Good to know” I said trying to hide the blush that swept across my face as his gaze lifted to meet mine. He nodded and his gods damned stare was so intense, I immediately wanted to change the topic of conversation.

“We should probably go over the plan” I said softly, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that I was alone with him. and he was so close, his familiar scent of night chilled mist and cedar drawing me in. I cleared my throat and walked into the sitting area. He didn’t think of me that way, I reminded myself. He had no idea that I had harbored feelings for him for years, and I wouldn’t let this mission ruin that.

I sat on one of the armchairs as Azriel took the sofa, he splayed his wings across the cushions, his shadows making an appearance. He had probably sent them to secure the room and gather preliminary information about who was here, and where.

We sat and talked about our strategy; I would take point being that no one really knew who I was which we would use to our advantage. I would dance with as many of the lords as I could to make conversation. My power was useful in this situation because I could look through people’s minds when I made physical contact with them. This made dancing the perfect opportunity to gather as much as I could while Azriel monitored from the shadows.

“You should rest before tonight” I said, “I’m sure you’re exhausted from winnowing and flying us all the way here.”

He nodded “I didn’t realize how tired I would be, it’s been quite the journey”

“How about you bathe now, and I’ll wake you a quarter to the party to get dressed” I proposed

“Alright” he agreed, standing, and making his way to the bathroom, the door closing behind him with a soft -click-

He took his time in the bath, while waiting for him to finish I had called for tea and some food and took up his position on the couch. I figured I would read one of the books I had brought with me to keep me occupied. It was a recommendation from Nesta, she always gave the best recommendations. I poured myself a cup of tea and picked up where I had left off.

Just as I was settling into a decent reading pace, I heard the bathroom door open. Gods damn him. I thought as Azriel emerged from the bathroom. He had to know what he was doing. He had only a towel slung low across his hips, his bare chest still wet from the bath and the tattoos across his chest looked darker in contrast to his tan chest. He had another in his hands and was using it to dry his hair. I couldn’t help but stare as the muscles in his arms flexed with the movement.

I nearly choked on my tea as he made his way into the closet. I heard the rustle of the towel falling on the floor and focused all my attention to the book, my eyes were glued to the pages, but I wasn’t comprehending anything on the page, my thoughts were purely on the gorgeous naked man in the closet.

He reappeared a few minutes later in a simple pair of linen pants, his chest still bare and his toned chest on full display. How I wanted to feel the power of all those muscles…

I pushed those thoughts out of my mind and tried to focus on the page in front of me.

“Wake me in a few hours” he said, looking at me with a smirk on his face, yeah, he definitely knew what he was doing.

Bastard.

“Mmhmmm” I mumbled pretending to be completely focused on the book in my lap.

-----

A few hours had passed. I checked the time from the clock on the mantle of the fireplace and decided I should begin to get ready. I grabbed a satin dressing robe from the closet and made my way to the bathroom. I couldn’t help but stop and look at Azriel, sleeping peacefully on the bed his breathing slow and even. He looked so carefree like this, and I resisted the urge to crawl into bed next to him. I shook those thoughts from my head, this was going to be a long mission.

I took my time in the bath, enjoying the variety of scents and soaps available. I washed my hair and scrubbed my skin until it was pink, once satisfied with my handiwork I climbed out of the tub and toweled my body dry, putting on the green dressing gown and I wrapped my hair in a towel and set it atop my head.

I emerged from the bathroom to retrieve my dress which was currently hanging in the closet, I expected to find the Shadowsinger still fast asleep, but to my surprise Azriel was awake, he sat in the center of the bed his back propped against the large headboard and a book in his hands. My book. I realized seeing the scarlet red cover. My eyes widened as they met his gaze.

“This is quite interesting material y/n” he said with a roguish grin “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a smut reader. I mean this is quite explicit, even for me, and I have 500 years of experience”

“Perhaps you’re simply out of touch” I quipped “and don’t be such a prude, there is nothing wrong with smutty books”

“Tell me y/n, do you imagine yourself in these situations” he asked, his eyes burning into me

“I will not dignify that question with an answer” I said “Instead of this questioning, perhaps you should get ready for tonight”

“Whatever you say little dove” he answered

I made my way back to the bathroom, closing the door behind me and exhaling the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I hung my dress on the door and made my way to the sink to splash some cold water on my face. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I decided that two could play at this game. With a giddy smile I got to work.

-----

With a final glance in the mirror, I smiled at my work, I had decided to go for a simple but sultry look. I kept my makeup minimal but added dark winged liner to the lids of my eyes and painted my lips a deep red color. My hair I decided to leave down, letting it fall in big loose curls down my back. It was time to put on the dress I brought for the ball, it was typical night court black, floor length and was corseted which accentuated my waist, and breasts nicely. It also had an off the shoulder detail which I loved. I clutched the fabric to my chest, holding it in place as I made my move.

“Azriel?” I called, opening the bathroom door a crack “Can you help me” I asked

I heard his footsteps approach, and he opened the door, stepping into the room.

We made eye contact through the mirror, and I noticed the way his eyes drifted over my body, lingering on the open back of the dress.

“Can you lace me up?” I asked my voice slightly catching in my throat

He simply nodded, making his way behind me as he took the ribbon in his hands and began lacing up the corset. I involuntarily released a harsh breath as he tightened the dress.

“Is that too tight?” he asked, looking up from his task to meet my eyes in the mirror

“No, its perfect just caught me a little off guard” I said with a smile

He nodded and continued; my skin tingled as his scarred fingers touched my bare skin. I couldn’t help the indecent thoughts that flooded my brain as his skilled hands tied the ribbon.

“There, all finished” he said, his hands lingering on my hips. His pupils were blown wide as I looked at him

I cleared my throat “thank you” I said softly reaching for my necklace

“Let me” he said extending his hand to me. I placed the diamond necklace in his palm and brought my hands to my hair, pulling it to the side as he reached around me to clasp the jewelry in place.

“Beautiful” he said under his breath, his eyes raking over me before he turned and left without another word.

What the fuck was that. I thought as I took a few minutes to compose myself before stepping into the main area of the room.

I found Azriel dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked good, he wore an ebony tunic brocaded with cobalt and silver, dark pants, and black boots that reached his knees. I realized we had coordinated outfits as the blue in my jewelry matched the embroidery on his tunic.

“We clean up pretty nice don’t you think shadowsinger?” I teased

He smiled, before extending his arm to me. “Shall we?”

I ignored the butterflies in my stomach and took his arm.

Together we made our way into the fox den.

-----

I was exhausted

It had been hours of dancing and using my magic to gather information. To be fair I had learned a great deal like that Beron’s target has been to kidnap Mor or Feyre and use them as leverage. I had also learned that the meeting with the lords was happening at noon tomorrow and that would be our best chance to gather who was the mastermind of this entire scheme.

By this point it felt like I had danced with every male here. To keep up appearances I made my way over to Azriel, who was currently getting us drinks from the open bar.

“You’re doing great” Azriel whispered, handing me a flute of some kind of sparkling wine. I took a sip, enjoying the fruity taste.

“I’m exhausted, and nearly drained” I told him “I don’t think I can do anymore tonight Az” I whispered

“You’re almost done for tonight little dove” he said placing a reassuring hand on my lower back.

I couldn’t help the fluttering in my chest at his use of that nickname.

“One last dance and we can go back to the room”

“With who? I think I have danced with every male in this room. Including Eris” I said

“With me” he said extending his hand, his Hazel eyes swirled with an emotion I couldn’t quite place. I delicately placed my hand in his and he led us onto the dancefloor as a slow waltz began playing.

Azriel pulled me close, one hand resting around my waist the other still grasped in my hand. I followed his lead, placing my free hand on his shoulder as the music swelled.

Something about this, being so close to him just felt… right? I couldn’t quite explain it, but as our bodies moved in time with the orchestra it seemed like the rest of the world faded away and we were the only two people in the room.

I was brought back to reality with the sound of clapping as the music stopped. We both made a show of bowing to each other before making our way out of the ballroom and back to our quarters. It was a silent walk; I didn’t have the energy to make casual conversation after the intensity of that dance.

I entered the room first and Azriel closed the door behind us as I made quick work of turning on the faelights casting the room in a soft glow. Even in my exhausted state, I feel his familiar presence behind me.

“Do you need help getting out of that dress?” he asks, his voice soft and low

“I would appreciate it” I said, my voice barely above a whisper as I felt his hands glide down my body to undo the knots he made only a few hours ago. I am hyperaware of every place our bodies are touching.

“All finished” he says, leaning down so his mouth is flush against my ear. Its like electricity as his hand meets my bare shoulder, turning me to face him.

I keep my eyes down, looking directly at his chest. He brings his hand to my jaw, placing his forefinger and thumb under my chin gently forcing me to meet his gaze.

“Y/n… you are beautiful” he whispers, like if either of us speaks too loudly we’ll be forced back to reality.

“Don’t say things like that” I whisper back, our bodies so close that our breath mingles in the space between us. The tension palpable as the seconds seemed to stretch.

“Why not” he says, his pupils blown wide.

“Az…” I say, any protest leaving my body as he holds me close. his head craning down. I can’t think as his scent envelops me. My eyes flutter closed as he closes the distance between us, and his lips meet mine.

It feels so right, like we were two halves of the same coin, like we were meant to be.

I bring my hands to twist in Azriel’s hair, deepening the kiss as his hand drifts to my lower back pulling me against his hard body. I let out an involuntary moan at the contact. He took the opportunity to intensify the kiss, his tongue meeting mine as all my doubts and insecurities flew out the window.

After what seemed like an eternity, he pulled away. Placing a chaste kiss to my forehead before making his way to the closet, to change no doubt. I took his lead, confused as ever, and made my way to the bathroom to change out of my dress which was already hanging off my body. I stared at myself in the vanity.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I whisper to myself in the mirror “you idiot”

I quickly take off my dress, putting on a nightgown and remove the makeup from my face. I put my hair into a simple braid and make my way to the bed. Azriel still hadn’t emerged from the closet.

I tried not to think about how he was feeling as I tucked myself into the warm covers.

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

I don’t even remember drifting off to sleep but it takes a moment to register my surroundings, I must have passed out last night after…After that kiss.

I went to throw the covers over my head before realizing that I wasn’t alone in this bed.

Azriel had slept in the bed…with me

He was still fast asleep, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. He had changed into just his sleep pants, his wings were relaxed and tucked behind him, from this position I wondered what it would be like to wake up to him every day.

Stop that. One kiss does not make a relationship, we had some drinks and were both tired. It was probably just a fluke incident. I convinced myself.

I quickly got up, calling for breakfast to be delivered to our room. I didn’t have the energy to get dressed and go downstairs to mingle with everyone from the night before. I’m sure Az would agree when he woke up.

A few minutes later a soft knock sounded at the door, I threw on my robe and padded over opening the door for the sweet nymph pushing a cart full of food to the sitting area.

“Enjoy your meal miss” she said, curtsying before turning and leaving the room closing the door behind her.

I heard a rustling sound as Azriel stirred. He slowly sat in the bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he threw the covers off him and made his way to where I sat.

“Good morning” he said

“Mmhmmm” I replied as best I could, with a mouth full of food.

He smiled “Did you sleep well?” he asked as he prepared a plate for himself and sat opposite me.

“I did” I said, meeting his gaze looking for any sense of regret, or shame from last night. “How did you sleep?” I asked

“Better than I have in decades” he said scooping a heap of eggs into his mouth.

A moment of tense silence passed between us

“About last night” he began

“We don’t have to talk about it, we can just chalk it up to drinks, and exhaustion” I said

“I was just going to say—”

“That you regret it?” I interrupted “don’t worry I do too, so we’re on the same page”

His eyes widened “you regret it?”

“We crossed a line Az, we got swept up in the theatrics of the mission and that’s in part, my fault” I said

“If that’s really how you feel” he said

“It is” I said, but I didn’t dare meet his eyes. He would see that I was lying.

“Alright then” he says.

We finish our breakfast and get ready for the day in silence.

-----

I decided to take a walk along the grounds to clear my head before we planned how to infiltrate the meeting with Beron. It was so tense during breakfast that I needed an escape. Azriel insisted on coming along, for safety, and while I could handle myself, I didn’t protest.

Once we were a safe distance from the house, Azriel said he was going to find a quiet place to train and update Rhysand. He stalked off into the forest, but his shadows remained, swirling around me, keeping tabs on me while he was off.

I walked for a while before I heard a rustling sound behind me. I turned around expecting to find Azriel but was more surprised to find three males I hadn’t seen before.

“Well, well, well, look who it is boys” one of them said “the spymasters little whore”

I hid the panic in my eyes and focused on what I would do. I was alone, with no weapons of my own and I was outnumbered. I decided that my tongue would have to hold them off. If I could distract them long enough, then Az’s shadows would report to him and he would be here in no time.

“Sounds a lot like jealousy to me” I purred back. I wouldn’t let this male intimidate me.

“Why would I be jealous of a female who’s probably been passed around the entire Night Court? I’ve heard stories about how the Carynthians share their women. At least until that High Lady Whore cornered the market”

I hid my disgust “Be careful how you speak about my High Lady” I sneered

“What are you gonna so sweetheart?”

“Whatever I need to” I replied, taking up a defensive stance that Azriel taught me.

“No need for all that, we couldn’t care less about Azriel’s little whore. We just want him. and you’re gonna help us find him”

“I would rather die”

“That can be arranged”

As one of them stalked towards me, I let him think he had the upper hand before I lunged, kicking him swiftly between the legs. While he doubled over, I ran, sprinting through the woods. Not caring about the branches catching my face.

I saw him in a clearing, running through drills on his own.

“AZ” I screamed

He turned immediately, his eyes raking over me for any injuries. “y/n what happened?” he asked frantically wiping the blood from the cuts on my face.

“Males…three…looking- for you” I managed between breaths.

“Okay- its alright, calm down” he said “I want you to go to that clearing” he pointed to a spot within his eyesight that was hidden from the trails. I nodded taking off and getting into position, I decided to stand behind a tree to hide my body from sight.

A few minutes later there was a rustling as the males from earlier made it to Azriel. He easily attacked, taking them down in just a few movements. But he was distracted, the three males in front of him were a diversion as another group approached him from behind, one of them cocked an arrow and sent it flying towards an unsuspecting Shadowsinger.

“AZRIEL” I screamed drawing his attention to the male approaching him from behind. He was slightly too slow turning and got nicked in the arm by the arrow. I noticed the slight wince as he regained his footing. Easily taking down the three remaining males that were pursuing him.

Watching him in combat was a spiritual experience, the way his body parried and struck. He had hundreds of years of experience and in moments like this it clearly showed; I couldn’t help but think back to that dance last night. The feel of his hand in mine, his body pressed close to mine, our breath practically mingling and that kiss…

Before I could register what was happening, I was on my knees, my hands clutching my abdomen. I was so distracted making sure Azriel was alright I didn’t notice the two males approaching me from my position. One of them had me by the hair, twirling it around his fist to get a firm grip on my head while the other cleaned his blade, the blade that just sliced open my abdomen. I wanted to curl over and clutch the wound but the hand in my hair kept me stretched upright on my knees.

Azriel swung his head in my direction, his eyes wide as he took in my situation. He quickly ended the remaining male slicing his throat open in one swift motion and stalked his way over.

“Let- her- go” he said through gritted teeth.

“She seems like such a fun plaything; you sure you don’t want to share shadowsinger?” One of them asked. They both laughed at the comment.

“Step away from my mate” Azriel said, his hazel eyes burning with such intensity I almost felt bad for the end these two males were about to meet. He was death incarnate, and he had a score to settle.

His mate… I thought before the world went black.

Present…

He had flown for what seemed like hours, his wings burning from the strain. He had never flown so fast. As the distant lights from the Velaris began to appear, he felt the effects of the faebane begin to wear off as his shadows appeared, swirling around you, waiting for instruction as you currently lay limp in Azriel’s arms.

He screamed in his mind, calling to the high lord and communicating that the mission had gone horribly wrong and he needed Rhys to get Madja and meet him at the House of Wind. He held you tightly in his arms, whispering words of encouragement into your ear as he winnowed to the house.

As soon as he arrived in the foyer he screamed for help and Nesta appeared. Her eyes widened as she took in your unconscious body. She wasted no time, screaming for Cassian and gesturing the shadowsinger to follow her into the closest sitting room. she pushed a couch to the center of the room, clearing its contents to create a triage area where they could work on you.

Cassian ran into the sitting room, taking in the situation before shouting he would get supplies as he ran to the nearest window, leaping out of it and taking flight.

Azriel gently placed you on the couch, taking just a second to smooth the hair from your face. He sank to his knees beside you as he checked your pulse. It was incredibly weak, but it was there. Nesta’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“We have to try and stop the bleeding, if she loses anymore she’ll be in real danger and…and we’ll only be able to do so much to save her” she said

Azriel nodded his head, he pulled truth teller out of its harness and delicately cut away the top of your leathers so they could clean and evaluate the wound. Nesta made sure to keep your breasts covered, she dressed you in a bandeau style top that would keep your middle exposed while you still remained covered, she knew you would be mortified if everyone saw you naked while you were unconscious.

While she dressed you, Azriel went to work cleaning the area around the wound he gently soaked a cloth in alcohol and delicately removed the dried blood, dirt, and debris from your abdomen. He hoped this would make Madja’s job faster, and easier. He knew that time was running out. He shook that thought from his head and continued to work. You had to be okay.

Nesta muttered something about pain medication and that she would make something for you to take the pain away. He doesn’t really recall anything except that Nesta left the room.

You stirred, Azriel’s attention was immediately on your face, looking for any indication you were lucid.

“Az?” you whisper, slowly blinking open your eyes.

His body goes rigid at the sound, he could sob from the sound of your voice.

“y/n?” he chanted over and over, like he needed to be convinced that you were here with him. that you were still alive.

"I- I lied" you said, Azriel froze

"about what sweetheart?" he asked

"about regretting it. t-the k-kiss" you said, tears lining your eyes.

"that's okay- it's alright" he said, wiping the wetness from your eyes.

“I- I heard what you said” you said, your voice barely more than a whisper

“What I said?” he asked, his eyes frantically sweeping over yours in an attempt to understand what you meant.

“That we’re m-mates”

He felt his heart stop, “Y/n, that’s not important right now.” he held your hand tightly in his pressing a light kiss to it “help is almost here, and once you recover, we can talk about it. Just wait a little longer darling”

“I’m t-tired of waiting Az..” you said reaching into your pocket and finding a caramel candy, you always carried them on long missions. You held out the toffee colored sweet in the palm of your hand urging the shadowsinger to take it.

His eyes went wide “are you positive you want this, that you want me?”

“I-I…h-have nev-ver been more s-sure of anything” you strained to say “I have b-been in love with you f-for years Az. I w-was just scared that y-you didn't f-feel the same”

Silver lined his eyes as he took the caramel from your palm, unwrapping it and popping it into his mouth. Even in your severely weakened state he felt the mating bond roar to life. That glowing band tethering your very souls together. In that moment he felt nothing but pure, unabridged happiness.

“We’re going to be so happy y/n, I promise” he said as his hands moved down your body. He began to apply pressure to the gaping wound across your middle. He could feel your pain, the mating bond allowing him a glimpse of what you were experiencing, and it was agony. Your voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Because w-w-we-were m-mates?” you asked

“Because we’re meant to be little dove” he reassured you

“m-meant t-to b-be?” you said between gasping breaths. Your eyes were sparkling despite the pain a smile present on your lips as you imagined a beautiful future between the two of you, but you felt so tired, so extremely tired. Perhaps you would just rest your eyes.

You took a deep breath before your chest stilled, your hand going limp in his, as your eyes rolled closed. Azriel immediately leapt into action. He held the cloth close to the bleeding gash on your abdomen applying pressure in a feeble attempt to stop the blood flow.

“You will not do this to me” he practically screamed as Madja entered the room. “You will not leave me, if I have to claw my way to Hel and drag your soul back to this plane of existence I will, I swear it.” He growled laying you flat to begin chest compressions as Madja assessed the damage to your body.

He needed you and he refused to let you go like this. Not when you just accepted the bond. Not when he imagined a future with you by his side, a future he wanted to promise to you. He would do anything. If he had to cleave out a piece of his own heart to save you, he would reach into his chest with his bare hands to get it. because he could not live without you.

You took a deep gasping breath, faint color blooming on your cheeks as you groaned in pain.

Madja said a prayer under her breath as she began muttering words in a language he didn’t understand. As she spoke, glowing tendrils appeared and began swirling around your body patching the superficial damage while she cleaned and worked on closing the worst of the injuries on your abdomen.

Nesta returned then and began working in tandem with Madja the two of them falling into a steady rhythm. Azriel decided to let the women work, he left a shadow with you holding your hand as he stood in the doorway watching you, his mate, his love, his everything. He brought his hands to his face and allowed the emotions to flow.

He didn’t know how long he broke down, but he began stitching himself back together. As his breathing evened, and he wiped the wetness from his eyes the front door swung open and Azriel turned to find Rhys, Feyre and Cassian making their way to the room.

“Are you alright” Rhys asked, Azriel knew that the High Lord was trying to distract his brother from the knowledge that his mate was on deaths doorstep only a few feet away.

Azriel nodded looking over to where you lay, he could still feel your pain through the bond.

“Rhys… can-can you take her pain away” Azriel asked softly, his red rimmed eyes meeting that of his friend. Rhysand could see the desperation, the pain in the shadowsingers eyes and he nodded making his way closer to y/n.

Through the bond Azriel could feel the high lord as he took your pain, replacing it with happy memories and feelings of comfort. Azriel brought his hands to his face and let the tears flow freely again, unable to control his emotions. His shoulders shook as his knees buckled and he almost fell to the floor.

Feyre was quick to pull him into a tight embrace, she looked to her own mate, their minds meeting as he urged her to prepare for the worst. Feyre’s own eyes filled with tears as Madja’s voice could be heard pleading with you to hold on, to stay with them.

Azriel broke the embrace with Feyre and lunged for y/n, but Cassian and Rhysand were there hauling him away from the makeshift bed where Madja tried to save you. His shadows swirled frantically around him, as if they too understood what was to come.

No force in the world could prevent it.

He felt it then, a pain in his chest.

He fell to his knees, the tears steadily streaming down his face as the realization set in.

The mating bond. It was breaking apart. The edges fraying and snapping as you slipped out of this world, as you slipped away from him.

He clung desperately to that limp string tethering you here, tethering you to him. He wrapped his magic, his very soul around it begging for you to stay, begging all the gods of this world and beyond to save you. But it didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered as he felt it snap.

As the mating bond was cleaved in two.

Where there was once a glowing reassurance of a future, a golden ray of sunshine to brighten his darkness there was now nothing. There was just an overwhelming feeling of emptiness that overcame him.

You were gone.

He let out a bloodcurdling scream, clutching at his chest. He wanted to claw out the shredded remains of his heart. The heart that still beat for you.

That would always and only beat for you.

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

Thank you for Reading!

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

Taglist (All Works) -> @cherryjain17 @we-were-beautiful @moonfawnx @cityofidek @daily-dose-of-sass @marvelouslyem @moonlightazriel @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @indaybella99 @gray08 @dreamsofivy @gorgeouslysent

Taglist (Azriel Only) -> @ellievickstar

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

#azriel x y/n #azriel x reader #azriel x elain #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar series #eris acotar #eris vanserra #feysand #cassian x nesta #bookish-whore #one shot #fluff #banter #angst with a sad ending #sorry not really sorry

[silent-sanctum]

Hi! May I ask for a Stardust Crusaders Jotaro x Reader?

Where reader gets cut pretty deep and is in immense pain, what would Jotaro do?

I love your stuff btw!!

hello! And thank you for enjoying my fics! Truly appreciate it😊💌 I hope you don't mind the amount of ✨angst✨ this lil work has dear anon, and I do hope you, and the fellow readers enjoy it~

Hurts Like Hell - Jotaro x Reader

word count: 1.8k+

“Hey it’s him. That infamous delinquent”

“Hey dude, shut up! He’s gonna hear you!”

“Shit,” Jotaro cursed through his bleeding wounds. His knees wobbled by the slightest with every sprint and every corner he turned, feeling the high of adrenaline decrease with each run, but he couldn’t give in. Not now. “Shit shit shit!”

“Why do women care for an edgy bastard like him anyways? It’s not like he cares for them anyways.”

His breaths turned more ragged with excruciating effort as he neared his destination. With each hurried step, his heart raced- more out of fear than from the pain and injuries his body was still coping with. Almost there.

One more turn around the corner. And he stilled, heavily panting as his anxiety spiked at the sight before him.

Buildings that used to stand firm for god knows how long, now crumbled into large chunks of debris with few of their base foundations serving as reminders of what were used to be. The streets and pavements cracked and caved in from the colliding power of two Stands. But that was the least of his concerns.

Because in the same area was where he last saw-

“Y/N!” Jotaro yelled the loudest he could, his voice echoing throughout the emptied street. He trudged through the ground, bypassing each huge pile of debris with Star Platinum aiding him in clearing them. “Answer me!”

“Hello… Just so we’re clear, I’m not here to harass you with flowery letters or sweets. I’m just here to eat in peace, okay?”

“Why do you care?”

“Damnit Y/N,” Jotaro persisted despite his severe aching, teeth gritted as he shoved past the countless debris off his path. He grew desperate. “Damnit- Where are you?!”

Eventually, his search came to a halt. And his chest might as well have stabbed him from the way his heart froze in terror. Underneath the fallen concrete of the neighboring building, a large red pool of blood crept its way out of the pile.

No. It couldn’t be. Picking up the pace, his remaining adrenaline offered him that boost to rush over to the aforementioned site. The second he stopped before the damned debris, Star unleashed an array of punches to obliterate them.

And there you were.

Jotaro let out one quivered breath. “F-Fuck.”

“Why the fuck did you follow me woman?!”

“You think I wouldn’t start getting worried whether or not you were still okay?!”

You lay motionless on the broken pavement, a gaping cut slashed from your left shoulder down to your right hip. Beside your body was the knife his mortal enemy once held in frozen time. The same weapon that was supposed to be for Joseph if you hadn’t interfered.

It felt like it all happened in a second- your weakened self, barging into the scene to distract the enemy with your Stand, time stopping for only him and Jotaro to witness, his grin widening as he walked to you to deal the severe laceration across your body. In front of him. To make him reel with agony.

He could never forget the way he trembled with anger and horror, his breath shaking at the sight of your body sliced open at the mercy of the cruel vampire.

Jotaro dropped to his knees, immediately seeking your presence, checking for signs of life to spare him his sanity. Crimson tainted his faded green top. “Hey…” He noted your fast shallow breaths and the faint pulse on your neck. “Come on.” He carefully picked you up into his arms, gazing at your face with a silent plea for your eyes to open.  “Wake up. It’s me.”

You didn’t respond.

He quivered, panic beginning to set in. “Y/N, open your eyes goddamni-“ A cough. A violent one that caused you to stir and regain consciousness with blood leaking from the corner of your mouth. Your eyes couldn’t open as wide as it normally were, but knowing you were still alive was enough for him.

You had the audacity to put up a weakened smile as you croaked out a quiet “Jotaro…”

Hearing you call for him in this state tore something inside. “Damnit.” The delinquent gritted his teeth as he positioned his arms underneath your knees and back to lift you off the ground. Though as he got up, he let out a pained grunt, his knees giving up and sharp pain stabbing him from where his shoulder broke.

“You’re… hurt,” you whispered. “Don’t… do this.”

Jotaro ignored your words as he forced himself back on two feet with your frail body secured in his arms. Star could’ve made this easier for him, but he just had to hold you close to him. Just to make sure you were here in his grip.

“The old man’s got to be nearby.” He bolted to the opposite direction, harsh breaths escaping him as he allowed whatever energy he had left to keep going. “He’ll patch you up.”

“Jojo...” Your hushed voice sent hundreds of tremors into his racing heart. Focus! Don’t panic. “I-I’m cold.”

“Fuck.” He held you closer to him, pressing your broken body close to his and shit, your skin was cool to the touch. “Hang in there. I’m sure they’re nearby.”

“You really can’t shut up, can you?”

“Hmm… I really can’t. Why don’t you shut me up more often then?”

“You brat.”

A giggle. “You ass.” And a kiss.

With his injuries worsening and his vision wavering, Jotaro’s movements grew sluggish no matter how hard he pushed himself to move. He grunted with pain as he lost his footing, tripping over a slab of debris he failed to notice.

Though as he collided with the ground, he shielded you from the impact with Star coming out a split second to embrace you from the front. Jotaro was so close. He could feel the faint sensations of the Joestar mark approaching from a distance.

He tried to get up again, albeit slower and with added agony to his efforts. But he wasn’t immortal like DIO. Just a human who couldn’t continue leaving wounds untreated. With the attempt, he cursed as he fell onto his knees and groaned.

“Please… that’s enough.” Through strained vision, he gazed down to look at you with tears spilling from your hooded eyes. “I’m… I’m not worth… the suffering…”

“Shut up,” Jotaro said, sharp with an underlying tone of panic laced with it. “Stop talking and hang on.”

You whimpered as the delinquent made his way to a nearby wall to lean against with you pressed tight against him. “Just… don’t say anything until gramps gets here. He’s coming.”

“I… I can’t-“ You heaved and coughed frighteningly large droplets of blood onto the pavement. Jotaro didn’t know how much he could hold himself from breaking down at the sight of your immense pain. His eyes stung with unshed tears.

“Y/N?”

“It…” You sobbed, a weak hand clutching the fabric of his clothes. “I-It hurts… so fucking much Jojo.”

His breath trembled with fear, holding your head close to his broken shoulder as he held you tighter in his arms. “I know. I know it does.” Jotaro steadied you as he placed a firm kiss on the crown of your head. “But he’s coming here. And everything’s going to be okay.”

You buried your face into his shirt as tears continued to stream down your face, your shaking hands gripping his clothes.

Fuck. FUCK. “Old man!” Jotaro yelled out to the open. Angry. Frustrated. Desperate. “I know you’re near! Hurry goddamnit!” With every strangled sob ripped out of you, he could feel his chest caving in more and more with dread. “Gramps?! Pol?! Fucking anyone?!”

“Jotaro…”

His screams stopped as he looked down to you with frenzied eyes. And he wished he didn’t. You became pale, your skin colder, the blood still leaking out of your gaping cut. But even after your cries and the severity of your condition, you still had it in you to smile at him as if that would ease his turmoil.

“I’m tired…”

“No… no, no, no- You stay awake for me.” He said, lightly shaking your shoulders to stress out how much that gesture would mean for him right now. “Stay with me until others come. Okay? You hear me?”

You let out another bloody cough, the light in your eyes dimming with every second. The hold you had on his shirt loosened by a bit and your head lolled against his chest. “I… want to sleep Jojo…”

“You’re not going to sleep damnit!” He gritted out, his hands tightening from where they were holding you up. “You can do that when we get back where our wounds will be treated. So just… f-fucking just…” His voice trembled, unable to keep himself from feeling the pain of everything.

A cool palm cupped his cheek, slowly lifting his head up towards your beautiful, bloodied face. “It’s okay…” You whispered to him, your thumb grazing the tear streak running down his cheek.

Jotaro let out one shaky breath, pressing his face against the chill of your hand. He felt pathetic. Pathetic because he did everything that was almost impossible, but now… he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t heal. He couldn’t teleport. And now…

“We lost Avdol… Iggy… Kakyoin…” He muttered through his tears, wrapping his arms around you. Fuck the blood. Fuck his broken bones. “I can’t… I can’t lose you too. Not you.”

At his words, your eyes swelled with fresh tears and with a broken whimper, you uttered, “I…I want to stay here… with you.”

“Remind me that when we defeat DIO, we should frequent the beaches in Tokyo after school.” A beaming smile. “The ocean’s quite lovely, don’t you think? I want to visit it sometime, and you can come with me~”

He could feel your breathing turned faint, but he ignored it and continued to hold you close to him. He grasped the back of your head and directed it towards his shoulder. “Then stay. Because you’ll be okay. It’ll be okay.” A couple more tears ran down his cheeks as he pressed his face against the side of your head. “They’re coming and... we’ll visit the ocean. Like you always wanted.”

“I… already did…” You croaked, thumbing his shining aquamarine eyes. “Every… day.”

All the strength from your limbs left as your hand dropped from his cheek. The one gripping his shirt dropping with the other. Your eyes grew heavier and the pain grow duller and duller. “Jo… Jotaro-ssi… I…”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” He began to rock you back and forth in gentle motions, his gaze now distant and his deep voice cracking with every strangled sob as everything turned hopeless. “Stay with me. It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”

Jotaro couldn’t tell how much time has passed, but he never ceased in his swaying motions and never-ending whispers. Even when he couldn’t hear you speak. Or when you stopped moving entirely. Even when Joseph and the Speedwagon Foundation arrived to witness the scene before them.

A broken mantra of “You’ll be okay… you’ll be okay… you’ll be okay….” was all he could say.

#jotaro x reader #jojos bizarre adventure #jotaro kujo

[stevethehairington]

For '100 ways to say i love you' prompt can I get Steddie -72. 'I'll meet you halfway' something healing, some gentleness with a bit of angst/hurt/comfort?

hiiiii! thank you for sending this in!!

omg i got totally sucked into the idea i had for this one and just kept writing and writing so it is like. way past "ficlet" territory but i'm not even mad lfdgsdf.

anyways, i hope this fits the bill! and i hope you like it!

[read on ao3]

72. "I'll meet you halfway"

When Eddie had gotten dragged headfirst into this alternate hellscape dimension, DnD monsters-come-to-life nightmare shitshow, no one told him that by the end of it he’d be offering himself up as bat bait to do his part in putting an end to it all.

No one told him that he’d wind up mangled and shredded and torn apart, but still, somehow, alive.

No one told him that he’d be bedridden for months afterwards, as his body stitched itself back together. That some days would be painful at best, while others would be downright excruciating. That he’d barely be able to walk at first, or bathe himself, or even eat on his own.

No one told him that healing would be the most grueling part of it all.

But those were all things that Eddie could get over. Things that, with time, he could forgive. After all, it’s not like anyone had known that that’s how it was going to play out.

What Eddie could not forgive, however, was the fact that no one, not one single member of their rather large, rather extensive party — who had all been through this multiple times by now and therefore had the knowledge — had told him just how much Steve god damn Harrington loved to play Florence fucking Nightingale in the aftermath.

Because not only had Steve been the first to open his home to Eddie as a safe, nondescript place for him to lie low until his name had been cleared, but he’d also offered to take care of him too.

To help him change his bandages twice a day, to provide meals — delicious, home cooked meals. To make sure Eddie was staying in bed and off of his feet and was taking his medications as prescribed.

At first it was nice. It was kind. Eddie was appreciative of the help, albeit a bit embarrassed by some of the things he did need help with. But Steve hadn’t commented on it, hadn’t questioned any of it either. He’d just been there, a steady rock for Eddie to rely upon.

It’s been close to two months now, and Eddie is by no means completely healed — hell, he’s still got the stitches in his side and the limp in his walk to prove it — but his strength is already leagues better than it was at the start, and the good days are just starting to outnumber the bad ones. Walking is easier, is something he can actually do now, and he can finally move his arms enough to clean his body in the shower. He still needs help with his hair, can’t quite reach that high yet, but he likes to think that won’t be the case for much longer.

Point is, he’s making progress. Things are looking up.

Except, Steve doesn’t seem to be getting that memo.

The first thing he does when Eddie ambles out of the guest bedroom this morning is offer to make something for breakfast. Steve frames it like he’s already about to make himself some eggs to eat, so it’s no bother if Eddie wants some too, but Eddie knows that that isn’t true; as much as Steve loves breakfast food, he’s not a morning person unless he has to be. And he doesn’t have to be today.

Here he is anyway, though. Wide awake and ready to cook.

(It’s the first strike.)

It’s not what Eddie wants. He wants to do it himself. He can do it himself. He doesn’t need Steve’s help to get something to eat.

“I’m not in the mood for eggs,” Eddie tells him instead. “I’m just going to get some cereal.”

“Yeah, sure, okay,” Steve relents. He doesn’t argue, and Eddie’s about to count that as a win.

But after Steve sets the pan down, instead of moving towards the fridge to fetch the eggs for himself, he rises onto his toes and stretches up towards the cupboard above the stove — the one he keeps the bowls in.

Eddie watches as Steve pulls out two ceramic bowls, one for Eddie and one for himself (which only proves that he never really intended to make himself eggs in the first place, if he’s giving up so easily on them). 

When he holds out the bowl for Eddie to take, it sets his teeth on edge.

Eddie takes the bowl, rougher than necessary, but Steve doesn’t even bat an eye. He just continues on his mission, taking the milk from the fridge before tucking it under his arm as he digs through the pantry for not one, not two, but all three brands of cereal he owns. Steve brings them all to the kitchen island and sets them down in front of Eddie — as if he couldn’t walk the four steps it would take to cross the kitchen and pick the kind he wanted himself. As if that would’ve taken so much out of a cripple like him.

(That’s strike two.)

Irritation simmers beneath Eddie’s skin as he fixes his bowl of cereal. He has to bite his tongue to keep from making some nasty remark about his surprise that Steve didn’t just pour the bowl for him and maybe even spoon feed him too.

He takes the seat at the very end of the island, the furthest one away from Steve, and he keeps his head down as he eats his Honeycomb, silently and aggressively.

It’s after he finishes his breakfast that the third and final strike of the morning comes along and pushes Eddie right over the edge.

He stands up too quick. That’s all it is. He stands up too quick and the stitches in his side pull, sending a sharp twinge of pain down his torso and into his legs. He sways on his feet, wincing, but he catches himself — because he’s strong enough to do that now.

Only, that doesn’t stop Steve from swooping in.

He’s across the kitchen and at Eddie’s side in an instant, one hand curling around his waist while the other tugs Eddie’s arm around his shoulders, acting as a support that Eddie doesn’t need.

“I’m fine,” Eddie says through gritted teeth, trying to duck out from under Steve’s arm.

He doesn’t let him though.

“Eddie, come on, you’re—”

(And that’s strike three.)

“Jesus christ,” Eddie bursts, throwing his left elbow out to knock Steve’s arm away from his waist. He shakes out his right hand too until Steve’s grip loosens and he can yank himself free.

It hurts, to jerk away that harshly, but Eddie ignores the fresh spikes of pain that accompany the sharp movements. The need to get away overpowers the need to not hurt right now.

He just can’t take another second of Steve’s coddling.

“Stop. Stop! You have to stop!” Eddie shouts, gripping onto the edge of the island to steady himself.

Steve, through all his concern, looks completely taken aback. Like he didn’t see any of this coming. “What?” He asks, bewildered. “What the hell man? I’m just trying to help!”

Eddie lets out a frustrated growl and squeezes his hand into a fist at his side. His nails bite into his palm, but he doesn’t care. It’s a nice redirection of pain, if anything. Of anger, too.

“I don’t need your help,” he snaps back.

Steve bristles at the harshness of his tone, his own hackles rising. “No, you don’t want it — that’s different.”

“No, Steve,” Eddie counters again. “I don’t need it. Not with every little god damn thing. I mean, jesus christ, you’re treating me like I’m a… a fucking— porcelain doll or something! Like I’m going to break if I… if I… if I try to walk to the bathroom on my own or try to make myself breakfast or,” he laughs bitterly, gestures at the stool, “god forbid, if I stand up too fast! I’m not an invalid!”

Steve winces, then sighs, and it’s like what little fight he’d had to begin with drains right out. “I know I’m being a lot,” he starts, and Eddie wants to laugh again, wants to shout ‘you think?’ in his face. He doesn’t. Keeps his mouth closed and lets Steve finish. 

“But, jesus, Eddie, you didn’t see yourself. Those bats,” he shudders, “they made a fucking feast out of you. You were— your heart stopped. You died.” 

Steve scrubs a hand over his face, leaning all of his weight back against the edge of the sink, like he can’t carry it anymore. When he drops his hands, he looks haggard under the fluorescent light of the kitchen. “I had to administer CPR,” he says.

Eddie’s breath catches. He didn’t know that part. He doesn’t know a lot of what happened that night, if he’s being honest. Most of it is one big blur in his brain. Eddie remembers the concert with Dustin, remembers the bats and the trailer vents, remembers sending Dustin up that rope, but everything after he cut it… the memories are like grains of sand slipping through his fingers. 

He didn’t know.

Steve takes a couple seconds to appraise Eddie then, to search him for… for something. 

“We— I fought to get you back, Eddie,” he says, with feeling, “and I’m going to fight to keep you here. I’m not going to let you flounder.”

Eddie swallows, lets the fist at his side dissolve as the last of his defensiveness leaks out of him. The knot in his shoulders loosens, and the flame that had been licking at his insides, firing him up, fizzles out until it’s nothing but fading embers. He takes a step towards Steve, hesitating. Then another and another and another until he’s by his side.

“Steve,” he says, lifting his hand to touch, but he stops himself before he can. “I’m— I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done, I really am.” Eddie pauses then, and Steve finally looks up to meet his eyes. “But that’s the thing. I’m not like that anymore. I’m not— fragile. I’m not going to break. I’m getting better every day — thanks to you! — but that means I can do things on my own now.”

Steve’s eyes drop again, and some of his hair, soft and productless, flops down over his brow. “You don’t need to,” he argues weakly, and there’s that word again. Need.

“Yeah, but I want to,” Eddie replies, and he doesn’t miss a beat as he continues on. “And that doesn’t mean I don’t still want you around. I— I do,” he says, and it feels like a confession. He tries not to think too hard about that. “I just… don’t need you to take care of me anymore.”

“But what if that’s what I want?” Steve asks. “What if I want to take care of you?”

It feels like something bigger, when Steve says it. Like maybe he isn’t just talking about this, the aftermath. Like maybe… maybe he’s talking about more.

And that’s the kicker. The thing that Eddie doesn’t get. Steve went through so much to save him. To rehabilitate him. And he still wants to do more. Eddie doesn’t understand why. Steve barely knew him before. He still barely knows him now. He doesn’t owe Eddie anything.

“Why?” Eddie asks, unable to stifle the curiosity.

Steve smiles then, this wispy ghost of a thing, but it’s there. Eddie sees it. It pulls at his cheeks and softens his eyes. 

Steve shrugs, scuffs the bottom of his socked foot against the linoleum. “Because I like you,” he says, and Eddie’s heart flops traitorously in his chest. “Because I want you around too. Because taking care of people is what… it’s what family does. And like it or not, you’re part of this family now.” He says it firmly, like Eddie has no choice in the matter.

Edide doesn’t want a choice.

He’s never been… never been part of a family before. Not one like this. One so full of loyalty, and devotion, and love.

Eddie doesn’t know what to say back, doesn’t know if he’d be able to say anything even if he did know what, with the thickness of his throat and the burning around his eyes that tells him he’s close to tears.

So he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he takes that last teeny tiny step into Steve’s space, and he hugs him.

It catches Steve off guard but only for a second before his arms curl back around Eddie. They hover, though, like he’s afraid of hurting him.

For once, that makes Eddie smile. “I’m not going to break,” he whispers into Steve’s ear, tightening his own hold on Steve.

Steve chuckles softly, but he finally finally settles his arms properly around Eddie — safe, warm, tight — and lets himself melt into the hug.

Eddie buries his face into Steve’s neck, feels the way Steve presses back into his hair. He holds on tight, drinks in his fill; he doesn’t want it to end.

When they break apart a few long seconds later, they don’t go very far. Steve’s arm stays wound around Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie keeps one of his tucked around Steve’s back.

“I have a proposal,” Steve announces, glancing over at Eddie.

Eddie lifts an eyebrow.

“I propose… a compromise,” Steve says. “How does this sound: I’ll meet you halfway in all of this.” He brings his hand to his chest. “I’ll still help you with your bandages. I’ll remind you about your meds. I’ll keep washing your hair until you can do it yourself. But I’ll lay off the rest.”

Steve moves his hand to Eddie’s chest now, poking a finger right to the center. “You get to walk to the bathroom alone, you get to make yourself breakfast, and if you’re falling I’ll only catch you if you want me to.”

A little late for that one, Eddie thinks to himself offhandedly.

“But,” Steve continues, still in that purposeful tone, “you have to promise me that if you do need help, you’ll ask for it, okay?”

Eddie smiles. Nods. “Okay,” he says. “I can do that.”

“Good,” Steve says firmly, and he holds up his pinky.

It makes Eddie want to giggle of all things. A pinky promise. Like they’re god damn children. Except, he knows how seriously Steve takes pinky promises. Knows that they mean more to him than any other kind of promise. 

Eddie feels sort of special, getting to have one with Steve.

He sticks out his own pinky, only just before Steve can lock them together, he curls his back in.

“You too, though,” Eddie adds, seriously. “You’re allowed to ask for help too, y’know. Just because my bites are worse doesn’t mean yours aren’t bad too. This goes both ways, Harrington.”

Steve nods. “Deal,” he says.

“Deal,” Eddie echoes.

They lock their pinkies.

Things are going to be okay.

100 ways to say i love you prompts

#asks #zerokrox-blog #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #mack writes #macks ficlets

[clementinefight]

(toy’s version)

Many lawn chairs circle the kidney bean shaped pool, but I’m the only person stranded in one. Beg yourself to be normal don’t you, on evenings like this, when loneliness is a leash, and it makes you a fence, and nobody, nobody, nobody can come inside. Go inside, I wish I would. Go inside, maybe I will in a minute.

Have been out in the backyard for over an hour, under swelling tree shadows, waiting on Immi to arrive. I’m always waiting on Immi to arrive, and always wanting to wait on Immi’s arrival. Nothing better than that. Only, thinking about her showing up now, the bells in my chest teeter over into an excruciating anxiety. I exhale roughly, sit up and then hunch over with aims of crushing the pain away. It stays, but this does feel better. Contorted, I spot a few beautiful white blossoms on the vivid blue-green surface of the pool. Blood vibrates like mathematics in my forehead. The thoughts, my thoughts, aren’t enough of a kaleidoscope; everything is clearly screaming. My thoughts hurtle me into rooms that spell pain in every corner.

My pain transmutes, and for a minute, I can stomach it. I sit normally again, with my shades shielding me from a bit of the saturated colour around here. Pink plastic flamingos in the garden, and gnomes with red hats punctuating soil and high weeds.

Something else has been happening today, something aside from thinking about her, and pain. On Squid Street, where I live too, nobody else seems to notice the trembling sentience of the leaves in Bruce Mau’s backyard. No comment so far has been commented on that there is more electric singing from the trees this lavender dusk than usual; none about how each green leaf seems energetic and physical in its hanging expectantly there, like they’re not just hanging but lifting, launching; like each leaf is a hand with a brain that operates it, like each brain has a lettuce domination agenda and that agenda is to get close to human skin and, once close enough, to eat it.

That tree wants to smell me, touch me, be a part of me, I think.

My gaze rolls up the trunk of the tree closest to me. Maybe life as the object that is pushed down the throat of Warm and into the stomach rivers of Acid wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe it would be good and nice, and I would be just like a bare foot slipping into its perfect satin heel; found and held by the blue-black-green enclosure like I’ve never felt held by anything else before, not childhood, not people, nothing else. That tree is so beautiful, slanting down over this suburban backyard like a swan neck, that for a minute or two I think we’re in love. I let my body relax, and because everybody else is inside, I push my hips upwards towards it. The tree reacts. Bony white blossoms erupt from its branches like silent, soft and fuzzy bombs. One tiny petal, loose like a broken wing, falls down onto my lip and sticks to the gloss there.

My shiny lips, my purple eyeshadow, my hair wild as—

I did all this to attract her, to walk her into my net again.

A branch is like textured brown vertebrae. A branch is an itch I can’t scratch. If Immi were here already, she’d tell me what else a branch is like. Maybe she would say something that would get me thinking about her all night. Something suggestive. Whip, pencil, road of many forks. She doesn’t need to stoke it. All nights, I already think about her.

Still the tree is too big. That tree is so big it’s going to eclipse me, not even eclipse me but bury, put me down.  Suddenly, we’re not lovers; I cool towards the whole thing. I envision my soggy eyeballs like silvery flower-heads growing on stalks up, up and through a barrage of green density to wave like pink flags of birth upon a whole new world. At that thought, I’m warm again. I will be queen of the conquered land, the fallen humans, the scratching yellow woods that have overcome, brother to time, the shopping malls, the movie theatres, the diners, personal kitchens and bathrooms and cars, the gas stations, the wooden gymnasiums, the funeral homes, the pale hospitals, the polka dot dressing rooms, the amusement parks, the baseball diamonds, my body self. 

And with no body, the fallen petals of my hands will flutter in a cold wind after Immi’s ankles.

Last time I was here in Bruce Mau’s backyard, the trees just weren’t this important; they weren’t like a frustrated ceiling pulsing to an inward peak over my head. Maybe the way I look at the world automatically suffocates, but it’s like I’m in a closed lime-room rather than outdoors. It’s like I’m in a house of leaves, and the house is breathing, the house is hungry.

I want you, too, maybe, I think, low from in my lawn chair. But only because you’re preferable to tonight and tomorrow.

All that proves I’m still outside and not locked away at the bottom of a wizard’s jar is the balmy, pushing air. I look up again, up at the trees. Yes, they are getting closer. They arch over my head like a dark green canopy and, as I stare, a kelp-smelling wind rustles through the thick enchanted broccoli treetops, coming from the sea at the bottom of town, way down at the end of Squid Street. The wind lifts my curly hair, tossing the dark strands wildly around my head.

“You want me?” I whisper. “Say you want me.” Do you ever practice intimate things with empty air? But it is her eye at the end of each leaf.

It’s all real. Can’t get out of it. It’s all real. Can’t get out of it. 

The light isn’t tricking me, the light just is, and while bright it can still exist in the dark minutes.

I’m not sad because of the gigantic trees that hunger for me, but because last night feels like the furthest night of my life when it should feel the closest; I couldn’t take a boat to reach it, those hours with her in my bed — coconut nectar skin, her hair on me like multiple collapsing breezes. I’m sad because she’s not here yet, hours after she said she’d be, I’m sad because this makes last night slide further and further off; until last night is an white island I spot in the black distance when I was just right there. A fear cold as moon scale lands in the divide between now and then, and though maybe I look business as usual on my outside screen, where my face pokes up unmoved, inside my body-house it is dark with a clawing dark, my nerves feel hole-punched and knuckle-clenched, my eyes are hot and watery behind my sunglasses, and I don’t know anybody. Everybody’s been to a party like that, where they sit in a individual court and don’t know anybody.

So take me, treacherous court of leaves, take me.

I was last here in the winter, here in Bruce’s backyard. That was when Immi was dating Bruce and from that alone I nearly died, but somehow I lived and laughed in the meantime; the war-town backyards were bare still and white still and piled window high still with crystal mattresses of snow still. Even the brightly striped lawn chairs all appeared pale and salted and dim then. Things take up more space in August than they do in December, don’t they? Sure they do. People, oh, people do. Immi especially lifts like a neon balloonist in the summertime, a July giant, she is a strange hot plasticine that seeps and takes, with the power of eight pitch-black octopus arms, over my heart’s deserted beaches.

But if people become gems in the summer, what happened to me? I’m statuesque, peanut-butter brittle, an icicle in an environment so beautiful and warm that it, in natural reaction to me, has now turned hostile. Out here alone on the lawn chair, I’m getting smaller, smaller. Nobody who saw me would even believe I’m thinking like this. To them I’m just somebody sitting  dumbly in a chair. I wonder if I even look like I’m waiting for confirmation? If my roaring bellyache emits a visual signal, or if this is all a whine that only the neighbourhood dogs can pick up. Miniature Toy. Couldn’t move if I wanted to. Do you ever think like that to yourself, that you’d like your body to be more liquid and play more to current events. But you can’t, you’re locked in yesterday, or in the last ten years. You’re down and out and nobody knows it, they only think you’ve got a bad, shy, or awkward attitude.

Put it plainly. I’m going to lose her. I’m an ant, anyway, an ant about to lose her queen. Because I showed my cards, and tomorrow I’m out of here on a plane to the other end of the country. There’s just not enough space now to let the strangeness loose, to let it roam. And there’s too much space to jump back to how it was before. Ordinary friendship, nothing hot, nothing hot. I can picture the dead end of our letters already. Cool like the splash on the fire makes.

It occurs to me; I have to go inside, I actually do. Into the party, amongst the shadow bodies, and have things there like Polite dish soap or Responsible toilet paper or Chaperone broom or Playful darts to capture and bring towards my being as props. I look towards the house; the red bricks are beginning to decline into block of shadow under the maroon belt of dusk, but two big window-boxes glow orange still, and pastel blue, pink, and gold streamers flutter against the glass. If Immi does look for me, I can’t be found out here, open, heart on the ground, defenceless; like that, our eyes and hearts will naturally meet in too exposed a meadow; everything will be obvious. If she has come with a hammer for me and my desire, then it will be too obvious, and I will have no props to stop me from appearing exactly as I am; crashed under the blow, and with a broken dream generator still dreaming of her knees.

Through little gaps in the tree-palace leaves, spots of orange sunset jump and flicker, excited cinders. Real evening already, and no my-girl, no gift-eyed Immi. I want to take those bars of slipping sun and break them over the knee. I don’t want another day. I want just last night, last night, capital L and N, L is the captain of lakes, locks and listening, N the controller of navigation and nickels. I want last night alone, and not the subtraction after.

#fiction

[colemillerg]

Shortly before December of 2020, I was at the lowest point of my life. My fiancé had just left me and I was forced to move back in with my parents. I had lost the love of my life, my friends circle, her family, my pet, and my home. I was desperate to numb the pain so I decided to get high. I’ve never been a weed smoker or drug user of any sort but I felt like anything would help. What did I have to lose? I’d never bought weed from someone before so I wasn’t sure where to turn to. I found on Instagram a young black guy advertising marijuana among other drugs he was selling. I contacted him and told him I wanted to buy some weed. Oddly enough he lived within walking distance from my parents house in government housing. There were so many red flags and alarm bells going off saying hey this isn’t safe but I ignored them because to me the risk was worth it if I could feel relief from the pain I was suffering. I drove to his house where he asked me to meet him in the parking lot. He climbed in my truck and we talked a while. Because I had felt uneasy about meeting a stranger to buy drugs, I had brought my pistol with me. He noticed the pistol on my hip and jokingly said, “You don’t need that.”He said he wanted to feel me out first before taking me into his apartment which is why we sat in the parking lot and talked. He then asked me to come inside his apartment because he didn’t want his neighbors see him conduct a drug transaction. I felt very uneasy about going into his apartment probably visibly so because he convinced me that there was no reason for me to bring a pistol inside. “For both of our safety, you should just leave it. Everything is cool.” I remember him saying. Stupid stupid stupid me, I left my pistol in the drivers side door and followed him into his apartment. He asked me to sit on the couch while he got the bag of weed so I sat and waited. He commented that his roommate would be home soon and so we must hurry. Looking back that stands out to me. He comes back with weed and when I stand up to reach into my pocket for my money, he pushes me down on the couch. He punches me in the ribs and holds me down pressing all his weight on my back. He yanks my pants and boxers down and says, “I know you’re a girl. Do you think I’m stupid?”I try to push him off of me but this kid is stacked like he plays college football. Before I can fight him off, his pants are around his ankles and he forcibly begins to rape me. The pain was excruciating and unlike anything I’ve ever felt. He punches me in the back of the head and chokes me. I would say the whole rape lasted about 10 minutes. All the while he called me names like “bitch” “slut” and “faggot”. It was a total out of body experience. Like I was floating above watching the whole thing happen. I saw my reflection in his TV while it happened and I didn’t recognize myself. It wasn’t just painful vaginal sex, but also forceful anal sex which left me with blood running down my legs. When he was done, he eased off of me just enough that I was able to pull out from under him and take off running to the parking lot with my pants still down. I got to my truck, grabbed my pistol and contemplated something that would have forever altered my life. Do I shoot him? This man who just sexually assaulted, beat, and committed a hate crime against me. He stood in the door way and I stood at my truck contemplating what my next move should be. Ultimately I decided it wasn’t worth taking a life for and I wouldn’t throw my life away by killing someone. I got in my truck and sped away. I was so ashamed. So hurt. So embarrassed. There was just one person that I wanted to talk to to bring me back to reality as I was in shock. I called my ex fiancé who hung up on me. I felt so hurt by this. I drove home and immediately showered for the longest time. I didn’t call the police because I was afraid of getting in trouble for going to buy weed. As a surgical technologist, it’s imperative that my system is drug free at all times due to impromptu drug screens. I could lose my license.

Within a few days, I attempted suicide as spoken about in a previous post. But several months later, I contacted police. I gave them what information I had and told them where to find the guy. When trying to pull up our chats on social media, his account no longer existed and all of our messages were gone. Police visited the home and said new owners had moved in and the previous owner didn’t match the description. It’s like he was a ghost who just disappeared. I was told there was little evidence to support my claims since it had been several months after the fact and was accused of having consensual sex. Law enforcement did nothing and made me feel shame and embarrassment.

It’s been a tough journey recovering from this experience. It’s something I think about daily. If you’ve ever seen the movie “Boys Don’t Cry” with Hilary Swank, there is a scene where she (playing a FTM trans man) is raped. I never wanted that to be me. I’ve been sexually assaulted and molested numerous times in my life but never have I been raped like this. I hope if you’re reading this and you have experienced sexual assault please know you’re not alone and it isn’t you fault. Try your best to not let the perpetrator have that power over you. Easier said than done, I know.

Anyways, thanks for listening. I’ve never openly talked about my rape but it feels good to speak (type) it into existence.

#mental illness #mentalheathawareness #mental health #transgender #sexualassault #rapeawareness

[borderline-gays-club]

Damn every time I’m reminded that I’ve been taking something for granted, it truly does make me appreciate that thing more than ever.

The whole thing of the heart grows fonder with distance or watever that phrase it.

Like every time I injured myself (which had been 3x very seriously, where I was temporarily physically disabled), I still to this day do not take those specific body parts I injured for granted.

When I broke my wrist in 1st grade and had to relearn how to draw and write with my left wrist, I’ve always been so careful about protecting my hands. Especially as someone who is a maker. That wud destroy my inside and out if I couldn’t use my hands anymore.

When I first badly sprained my foot in 11th grade, where for the first time ever I couldn’t walk with both feet, I’ve never never taken my ability to walk for granted. I was on crutches for 2-3 months (can’t remember exactly) and was able to walk with a boot for 1ish month? I couldn’t socialize much anymore bc I cudnt easily travel/move in general. I felt so incredibly isolated. And the obvious physical difficulties. Stairs felt like mountains. More than a 5 min walk my armpits wud start to hirt from the crutches. I couldn’t even bring a glass of water to my room by myself. So many fucking things I took for granted. Every day I could walk after that experience I was so grateful.

When I tore my acl 1.5 years ago…so much of my life drastically changed. I was on crutches for about 3.5 months. Was on a cane for 2-3 months. I couldn’t walk “normal” for basically 7 months. I won’t even go into all the details of everything I took for granted bc honestly….the list can go on forever. But one of the biggest challenges was the bathroom. The first time I went to the bathroom at home after the initial surgery it took me 20 min to get onto the toilet from my bed with the help of my now ex. Whereas it wud take me ~15 seconds to do this before the injury. And the pain was excruciating if I moved ever so slightly too abruptly. We literally had to create a system in order for me to get to the bathroom and that took trial and error. And the pain..oh it was horrifying. Because not only was I in physical pain but I literally couldn’t move my leg alone. Someone else had to move it for me. It was like a massive dead weight that could still feel immense sensation..

Anyway. I’m still not 100% with my leg yet and honestly I kno it will never b the same. I think I’ve permanently lost feeling in a specific part of the knee that makes is not possible for me to put bare weight on that knee. But I knew this was a risk. And honestly just the fact that I can exist without excruciating physical pain and constant high anxiety of experiencing the pain, I am FUCKING grateful. Walking…jumping…skipping, crawling, bending, lifting, kicking, swimming…literally any god damn thing that my leg can do I’m so grateful so so so grateful.

THANK U BODY FOR ALL THAT U ARE AND ALL THAT U EXIST IN. THANK U FOR THE ABILITIES U GIVE ME TO B ABLE TO FULLY EXPERIENCE MY WHOLE SELF. EVEN AS U LOSE THESE ABILITIES IN THE FUTURE I WILL ALWAYS SUPPORT AND LOVE YOU SO FUCKING DEEPLY AND CONTINUE TO GROW WITH U ESPECIALLY THRU INEVITABLE DECAY AND DEATH.

I WILL GRIEVE AND MOURN ALL THE YEARS I HAVE ABUSED YOU AND TORTURED YOU. ALL THE LOST TIME I WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO GET BACK WITH YOU. IM SO SORRY AND I WILL TRULY NEVER TAKE YOU FOR GRANTED AGAIN. IM SORRY FOR CONTINUING THIS CYCLE OF SELF ABUSE FOR ALL THIS TIME. I AM NOW FULLY READY TO BEGIN THIS JOURNEY OF BREAKING THIS CYCLE WITH YOU. LET US GUIDE EACH OTHER WITH THE TIME THAT WE DO HAVE WITH EACH OTHER.

#actually bpd #bpd #bgc #bpd thoughts #quiet borderline #actually borderline #bpd shit #disability #acl

[ladysolwind]

My brain has been determined to untangle the web of childhood trauma and it hasn’t been fun.

I think the hardest part is that there was no good solution for my parents. Like, what were they supposed to do? Abandon my oldest sister because she has a mental disability that really wasn’t understood at the time? No. Of course not. Does that change the fact that living with a sister that was abusive messed me up? Also no. A child can’t understand the reason someone is cruel and violent towards them. They just feel the hurt.

My whole family still bears scars from this. With my mother, she’s so scared of confrontation and anger that she doesn’t stand up for herself. She always folds and tries to make peace, even if it causes her significant harm. With my middle sister, well, I can’t say for sure that her mega issues are because of abuse. What I can say is that today, now that my eldest sister has access to the help she needs, my middle sister has taken up the mantle of abuser.

I tried so hard to make a connection with Middle, but I don’t even know if she’s capable of deep, human connection. Sure, she liked me when I was little and was conditioned to give unconditional love to family, but as I got older and realized she was a manipulative liar, she began to like me less. What scares me is that I see the pattern happening with her kids. Middle’s oldest child has been parentified to hell and back, and has become the scapegoat on more than one occasion. There’s four more for me to worry about, too.

Speaking of being conditioned to love, that went hand in hand with the pressure to never be negative, be the good child, and always be happy. Well, that all built up over the years and, in high school, my volcanic emotions erupted. Then I stared to really display my hEDS joint problems. Then I dislocated a knee and was treated like it was no big deal. I was in excruciating pain, having to walk around a giant high school with no assistance, on a knee that ended up being surprisingly nasty to the surgeon who operated on me. The pain kept me up all night. My body physically couldn’t do it, but when I said that I was treated like a dramatic loser. My depression spiraled out of control. Middle sister accused me of having Munchausen’s.

TBH, I really don’t know why I’m posting this. It did need to be written, because I’m trying so hard to get back into writing that typing this all out is really good for me. Sorting all of this out is really tough, and I’m having a hell of a time finding a trauma informed therapist. This was just the shit in my childhood. My adult life turned shit up to 11, but I feel like it’s all still too raw to write about,

Just like a knotted up muscle needs to be massaged and exercised out, so does the brain. It’s not going to work the same while it’s injured, and it takes time and effort to heal. The mental scars I have hurt more than any tear or dislocation I’ve had to deal with, though. It’s probably the most severe injury I have.

#mental health #childhood trauma #ptsd #cw abuse #cw depression #cw ptsd #cw sibling abuse

[higgs-the-god]

I’d probably have to break down in front of someone to get treated seriously again 😁

#barely anyone listens to me when I say I’m constantly in pain #or that I’m still walking with excruciating pain just because I have a high pain tolerance #because I HAVE to bear through it. for most of my goddamn life #just laying DOWN fucking hurts #for fucks sake I barely cried when I BROKE MY ARM #I’ve kept writing and drawing through carpal tunnel because I didn’t HAVE A CHOICE #I nearly lost my eyes twice and yet that was nothing #I’m constantly in pain and there’s such little ways to help #but it just sounds like I’m being fucking dramatic because I’m STILL standing and STILL walking #like YES now I’m fucking bawling but that doesn’t do fuck all for me #god. what the fuck ever honestly 👍 I really. don’t know why I bother posting online !! at all !! it doesn’t help !! #someday I’ll come to terms I’ll always be in pain. every fucking day

[sanguinescorpios]

stream sniper

dream x f!reader

summary | dream is on an important stream and too busy to give you attention. unfortunately for him, you’re feeling needy.

warnings | smut, thigh riding, voyeurism, dom!dream x sub!reader, edging, cockwarming, orgasm denial if you squint, this is filthy

word count | 2.8k

it started out innocent. you had been missing your boyfriend; between your school work and his editing, you rarely got to spend time together despite living in the same house.

you admit, you were a needy partner. you liked to be attached to clay’s hip at any chance you got, and he just let you. during recordings, during editing, even during streams; you were always there. it didn’t matter if he couldn’t really pay attention to you or if you had to sit on the couch behind his set up, you just enjoyed being in his presence.

this one, however, was slightly different than the average stream. you could count on one hand the amount of times clay had refused to let you be present for a stream and every time he had, it was a trainwreckstv stream.

it was fine, you always said, you understood. of course he wouldn’t want you there for a stream like that. he had to focus a lot harder on how and what he said on train’s podcast because the demographic and content was so drastically different from his own, and you would only distract him. it wasn’t personal. still, you couldn’t help but feel bitter about it. you missed him; final exams week had just ended and the idea of spending worry-free quality time with him was what got you through it. so you did what your totally logical brain told you to do: walk in anyways.

the door creaked as you opened it and you cringed internally. your sock-clad feet tread lightly as you moved forward into the room, praying your boyfriend wouldn’t notice your presence.

he did.

being a faceless creator, he didn’t even own a camera to accidentally have on, so you were safe on that front. the look on his face, however, told you that you were not so safe after all.

“i thought we agreed on you not being here for this stream?” he asked after tapping the mute keybind on his keyboard. he spun around in his chair with an abrupt kick from his heel, trying and failing to veil his annoyance.

“we did...but i missed you.”

he rolled his eyes, still ticked off but not so much that he was willing to turn you away. he missed you as well, he couldn’t deny it. not having you in his arms for so many hours was excruciating, though he tried not to think so dramatically. clay waved you over to him, the corners of his lips curling up at your attire.

“is that my shirt?” he asked, and you nodded. placing his large hands firmly on your hips, clay kept you close to him while he took a closer look at the oversized red t-shirt. it hung loosely on you, two sizes too big and ending mid-way down your thighs. clay couldn’t help but notice your lack of pants, too.

swooping his head down, he pressed a kiss to your exposed thigh. you brought your hands up to your face, heating up by the second, and giggled.

“no pants, hm?”

you gave him another non-verbal response, bashfully shaking your head while looking down at him through your fingers. he tsked you before pressing another kiss against your skin, inching closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“naughty girl,” he remarked after a few more kisses.

“aren’t you on a stream right now?”

clay glanced behind himself at his monitor, watching as the grown men on the screen argued with each other over some nonsensical issue. returning his gaze to you, he shrugged.

“yeah, but it was getting pretty boring.”

without a warning, clay clumsily pulled you into his lap and spun the two of you back around in his chair. after giving you one more kiss, he placed his headphones back on his head and returned to the conversation on his computer.

“yo, dream, you’ve been pretty quiet, man,” train noted, just in time.

“yeah my cat was acting weird, so i was gone for a minute.” clay placed a hand on your thigh and squeezed, a stupid grin on his face. this was gonna be one hell of a night.

***

you hated to say it, but you regretted crashing the stream. the conversation was painfully boring and dragging on, but there was no way you could leave now with the hold clay had on you. one hand lay around your middle and the other was firmly gripping your thigh. with his calloused fingers rubbing circles into the crease between your leg and your torso and his confident voice rumbling in your ear, you weren’t sure if you’d make it to the end of the stream. maybe he was teasing you, or maybe you were just needy. either way, you were gonna need a little more attention than this.

you stretched your neck in order to meet clay’s gaze, hoping he’d see the desperation in your eyes. instead, he gave you a soft smile and a kiss on the nose before turning back to the screen. he expected you to turn back as well so when you didn’t, he took notice.

reaching to mute himself, he gave you a concerned look.

“you alright, baby?” he asked and you shook your head no, “what’s up?”

“need you,” you admitted, barely concealing the whine that threatened to escape your throat.

clay’s eyes darkened ever so slightly, making it feel like the air had just been sucked out of the room. he was thinking, debating what to do next as he bounced you on his leg. the pace was punishingly slow and you grit your teeth to hold yourself together. 

“i’m a little busy, pretty girl,” he began as you let out a whine, “you’ll have to take care of yourself for now.”

you weren’t sure what that meant until you followed his gaze down. oh. oh. he wants you to...use him. okay. you raised yourself off his lap and he gave you a confused look, but it disappeared as soon as he saw you slipping out of your panties and was replaced by a smug smile. 

climbing back onto his leg, facing him this time, you let out a puff of air. fuck, he felt good. your already dripping center pressed against clay’s jean-clad thigh, the rough fabric intensifying any amount of friction you could manage. you wanted to move so badly, but clay’s tight hold on your hips kept you stationary. you looked up at him with big eyes, silently asked for permission. finally, he nodded.

you immediately began rutting your hips against his thigh, resting your hands on his shoulders to stabilize yourself. fuck, you thought as you felt the sturdiness of him underneath you, his shoulders. small mewls and whimpers escaped you as you increased your pace, chasing a high that you weren’t sure you could reach on your own.

train had clay talking about his sudden success, which was a fan-favorite topic as everyone either hated or loved him for it. the only catch was that, being the nature of train’s podcast, the focus was less on the money and more on the, well, you know.

“think about it, dream. there are people out there fucking themselves to the sound-to the thought of you. isn’t that crazy?” you heard train ask, though it was muffled by clay’s headset. 

clay looked down at his lap, on which you were grinding your bare clit like a bitch in heat, and then back up to his monitor.

“not really.”

you nearly moaned at his words, but hid it by sucking a bruise into clay’s neck. clay hissed at the feeling and tried to push you off, but you were unrelenting. you swirled your tongue around the section of his skin to soothe the pain. pulling back to admire your work, you were met with a now aggravated clay.

“y-yeah i’m alright man,” he started, glaring down at you, “my cat just scratched me.”

you rolled your eyes. great excuse, asshole.

you began to lean back down towards his already bruising neck, but were instead met with a strong hand gripping your jaw, turning you to face your now dually frustrated boyfriend. something had shifted, the air felt thicker and clay felt sharper, all softness void from his demeanor. the look in his eyes was made of steel and flickering between your own gaze and your mouth, brows furrowed and tongue dipping between his lips to swipe across them. the little voice in your head was screaming “danger”, but danger didn’t look so bad in that moment. danger looked good, danger looked worth the risk. danger looked like getting the best fuck of your life. 

ignited by the heat building in your core and the near-paralyzing look clay was giving you, you continued your previous actions. rutting your hips against clay’s thigh with fervor, you smiled proudly at him. the roughness of his jeans sent shivers through your body, you had to be soaking him and you were only getting wetter by the second.

your chin raised, a smug smile plastered to your features, and that challenging glint in your eye - you were such a fucking brat and clay lived to put you in your place. his hold on your jaw tightened before sliding down to rest on your throat, squeezing until your eyelids began to flutter and your thrusts grew sloppier. the knot in his stomach twisted tighter at the sight. fuck, clay thought, you were something else. something that needed to be taught a lesson.

clay muted again, taking advantage of the ad break to pull down his sweatpants and pull out his cock. he pumped it a few times, precum leaking from the tip and sliding down his length. your stomach flipped at the sight, never not taken back by his size. clay grabbed you by your hips and spun you around so that you were facing his pc, facing everyone on the call that you had nearly forgotten he was still on. then, he began to tease his tip at your entrance. 

“this what you wanted, pretty girl? wanted me to treat you like a slut? wanted me to fuck you with everyone on the call?”

you moaned at the feeling of him circling the place you needed him most. the heat was still heavy on you from your previous actions and your body was no less frenzied than before, you wanted your release more than anything. knowing that all of those people were there didn’t help your crazed state. you felt dirty and you liked it.

“sit.”

you lifted yourself over him without a second thought, slick and sensitive from the buildup of your long-awaited orgasm. a moan slipped past your lips at the stretch, feeling every inch of him against your walls as he bottomed out. instinctively, you let your head fall against clay’s shoulder, overwhelmed by how full you felt. god, he felt so good. when you went to move, clay’s strong hands gripped your hips and held you in place.

you whimpered against his neck, trying and failing to get some sort of friction going. when that didn’t work, you opted to clench around him, but clay simply tsk-ed you.

“you’ve been naughty, baby,” he started, “now you’ll sit here like a good girl and keep me warm until the stream’s over.”

what? you thought to yourself, the panic setting in. he can’t be serious!

“no, no, no, no, i’ll be good!” you begged. you’d been practically edging yourself for what felt like hours now, you needed him to let you release.

“i know you will, baby. now sit still for daddy, okay?”

time passed immeasurably slow. your mind was racing with thoughts, trying to focus on anything but clay’s cock throbbing inside of you. you tried your hardest not to squeeze him too often, despite how much relief it brought you. clay was feeling the heat too, your warm, velvety walls gripped him impossibly tight and he was beginning to regret choosing this punishment. you needed the lesson, but god was he suffering for it.

when the stream finally came to an end, the first thing clay did was thrust up into you. you yelped, gripping his arm in surprise at the sudden movement. he started up a steady pace, pounding up into you and rubbing harshly at your clit. the feeling was intense, especially after how long you’d been teased and forced to wait, and you found yourself moaning wildly because of it, unable to control your noises as he spun you around in his lap once again.

“had to-make me-punish you-during a stream, huh?” he taunted between harsh thrusts, grabbing you by your hair and forcing you to look at him. “had to choose today to be a little slut?”

you let out a near-pornographic noise, your eyes rolling back into your head as he hit your most sensitive spot.

“i asked you a question.”

“i’m sorry, daddy. i - ah! - i won’t do it again!” you wailed, head falling back as you felt your release fastly approaching.

clay grunted and forced you to look at him again, pushing his thumb into your mouth and letting you drool around it.

“look at me when you fucking speak,” he ordered.

he picked up the pace in frustration, wanting you to apologize appropriately. you distracted him, you should know how much he hates that. you should also know how much he demands your eye contact, getting fucked or not.

you coerce your eyes open and look at him, not concerned about how absolutely wrecked you must look right now. mascara running down your cheeks with tears from over and under stimulation, eyeliner smudged around your blown out eyes, lips red and sore from kissing on his neck, you were a mess. a hot one, if you asked clay.

“i’m sorry, daddy. i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry!” you continued to babble around his finger as his thrusts somehow grew harder and harder, the pace excruciatingly pleasurable. you were going to cum, you knew that much, but you needed permission.

“gonna cum, daddy!” you warned, feeling the burning knot in the pit of your stomach begging to unravel.

“cum for me, baby. make daddy proud.”

and make daddy proud you did, cumming hard around clay’s cock and feeling yourself spray his stomach with your juices. did you just? oh my god, you did. the embarrassment only made you feel hotter as clay continued to fuck your hole past your orgasm. you whined from the overstimulation, but he couldn’t have cared less.

clay’s moans went from low grunts to higher, breathy gasps, the closer he got the lighter his noises became. his brows were furrowed tightly and his eyes were blown out, the darkest shade of green you think you’d ever seen. the muscles in his arm pulsed as he gripped your waist tighter, completely using you as his own personal fuck toy. he was almost there, you could feel it in the way he gave his all but couldn’t keep up the organized pace he had before. you needed him to cum, not just because you were close to being worked up all over again from the stimulation, but because you wanted to make him feel good. in that moment, making him cum felt like your life purpose, your only purpose. you didn’t just want him to cum, you needed it.

“please give me your cum daddy, wanna feel it inside me,” you begged, taking matters into your own hands, “need you to make me yours.”

at that, clay groaned out a loud string of profanities and came inside of you. he painted your insides, you could feel him everywhere. you sighed at the feeling, warm and full and satisfied. clay let his head fall into the crook of your neck as he breathed through his cool down, pressing soft kisses to your neck and shoulder and mumbling praises and ‘i love you’s’. it took a moment for either of you to actually speak, just relishing in the moment and enjoying each others company.

“you gonna move anytime soon, bud?” you finally asked with a giggle. clay simply shook his head and buried it farther into your neck, humming out a ‘no’.

“wanna make sure it stays in for a while.”

you giggled again at his confession, pressing a kiss to the side of his head and ruffling his hair.

“okay baby,” you paused and pouted, “i’m sorry for interrupting your stream.”

clay sat back and gave you a soft smile, pressing his finger to your lips and turning your frown upside down, literally. he shook his head and gave you a sweet kiss, pressing his own lips tenderly to yours.

“don’t apologize, it was worth it.” a cheeky smile spread across his face and you rolled your eyes, the endearing air around you severed by your boyfriend’s childishness. you loved it, though you’d never tell him.

“you think anyone was suspicious of us?” you inquired, hoping to god no one had picked up on your quiet moans while the stream was still going.

“nah,’ clay lied.

#dreamwastaken x you #dream x you #dream x reader #mcyt x reader #dreamwastaken smut #dream smut #dreamwastaken x reader #dream #dreamwastaken #mcyt

[rebeccccccaaa]

TEᑎᔕIOᑎ

_____________________________

ᗩGEᗪ ᑌᑭ!ᑭETEᖇ ᑭᗩᖇKEᖇ ᙭ ᖇEᗩᗪEᖇ

ᔕᑌᗰᗰᗩᖇY: You and Peter have always been very flirty and touchy with each other. You chalked it up to just how he is, not that you minded. But what happens when Peter gets hit with Hydra’s infamous sex pollen and all he seems to be doing is moaning your name. 

ᗯᗩᖇᑎIᑎGᔕ: smut of course lol 18+ (virgin kink?, first time!reader, experienced!Peter, etc, unprotected sex cuz i forgot to write that lol be safe though, and a digusting amount of fluff) 

ᗩ/ᑎ: (non/dub con as per usual with sex pollen fics) although i tried to make as consensual as possible 

ᗯOᖇᗪ ᑕOᑌᑎT: 4.0k (i’m so sorry this is so long lmao)

_________________________________________

“We’re back!” Tony shouted, his voice echoing in the building. They had gone on a mission to infiltrate yet another Hydra base.

Peter was currently sitting and watching television and you were watching from the kitchen making two drinks for you and Peter. You both looked to the team walking in before scurrying beside Bruce and Tony who walked straight into the lab. 

“What did you get this time?” you asked excitedly. Sometimes the team brings back really cool things back from missions and in particular the Hydra missions have the coolest things. Unusually, Thor too walked in the lab before you all circled around the table and Tony placed a plant. 

He backs away as did Bruce and Thor so after looking at Peter with wide eyes you both also stepped back. 

“What is it?” Peter whispered.

“A plant,” Thor said.

“Not shit, Goldilocks. What does it do? You told us to take home, now what?” Tony said.

“Well, Man of Iron, it’s a sex pollen plant.”

“A what?” you gasped.

“Most planets use this as a sort of breeding plant; some species don’t really have the… stamina that Midgardians and Asgardians have.”

As Thor explained this, Tony and Bruce huddle away from the plant moving towards the computer to write down notes and data about what Thor was telling them. You followed pursuit also being intrigued by it. 

Unfortunately Peter did not follow and instead moved closer to the plant to take a closer look. The flower was beautiful. The petals were a soft shade of periwinkle and the pollen was yellow almost like gold. The same shade of golden yellow dust swirled around the flower itself. It was hypnotizing. He really wanted to smell it.

Suddenly as Peter got closer just to give it a quick sniff, he could smell an almost overbearing amount of your scent. That delicious scent of vanilla and lavender that you smelled so nicely of. That scent that made Peter want to run his hands through your hair and his nose along your neck. 

“One thing you should never do is inhale its pollen, if one does it could heighten their desires into madness.”

Peter looked up with wide eyes knowing he just did something he probably shouldn't have done. 

“What desires exactly?” Bruce asked.

“Well, sex.”

Peter started coughing.

“Pete are you ok?” you asked walking up to him.

He looked you in your eyes and his own dilated insanely. You backed away slightly concerned for your friend only for him to take a step closer to you. The lab coated with silence analyzing his behavior since it was so unlike him. Tony got up from sitting on a stool and Thor puffed his chest anticipating his next move; he was certain the boy breathed in the plant’s pollen. 

“It smelled just like you,” he whispered close to your face; his hands reaching under your shirt slightly.

The minute he put his hands on you, all three men ran you and Peter. Bruce pulled you behind him while Tony and Thor grabbed Peter dragging him away from you. You felt hot after what Peter had just done; in front of people too. He thrashed in Thor’s and Tony’s grasp, groaning and shouting from them to let him go. 

You felt tears brimming your eyes. You did not like Peter like this. He was crying and begging to be with you, which you’ll admit surprised you. 

“What’s happening to him?” you asked from behind Banner.

“The boy seems to have inhaled the pollen as I said not to do.”

“Yeah I get that! Why is he crying? Is he hurt?” you asked.

“Not exactly, the pollen will affect his mind and simulate pain as if he were to die, but his body will be perfectly fine.”

“What?” you all said at the same time.

“How do we fix it?” Tony asked.

“Y/n, baby. Please,” Peter practically moaned making everyone kind of uncomfortable.

“Well, the only way I’m aware of is, well, sex. And it seems like Peter desires the young lady,” you eyes widened and you shifted under everyone’s stares. 

“No, no way,” Tony said; you were like a daughter to Tony and therefore boys were something he wasn’t too keen on the idea of you having. He still thinks you’re too young even though you’re already a consenting adult. 

“Tony, the boy-”

“No, I’m not letting Y/n do that. We’ll find a different cure. Take him to his room and don’t let him out.”

“Tony, are you sure about this?” Bruce asked Tony.

“Yes I’m sure, Banner. There’s no way in hell I’m putting her in that situation. It’s not fair. Now come on, more time talking, less time finding a cure.”

“Technically there’s already a cure,” Thor muttered. 

“Go!” Tony pushed him out. 

“Is he gonna be ok?” you softly asked, hearing his cries and screams for you as Thor took him to is room.

“He’s gonna be alright, bug,” Tony said, hugging you. 

Steve and Nat both walked in the lab after changing out  of their clothes concerned with all the screaming they had been hearing.

“What happened?” Nat asked.

“Thor had us bring this plant home for analysis and turns out this shit makes anyone who smells the pollen horny as hell.”

“Really? Come on Tony, we heard the kid crying and screaming. What’s really going on?” Steve didn’t believe him at first.

“He wants to… have sex,” Bruce said shyly.

“Wait really?” Nat asked.

“With who?” Steve hesitantly asked curiously.

Tony and Bruce simply look at you, which you curled into yourself feeling embarrassed. 

“Oh no, honey are you ok? Did he do anything?” Nat asked, holding your hand.

“I’m fine, I’m just worried about him.”

“Don’t. We’ll fix this I promise,” Tony said getting to work.

Well now it’s been 8 hours and Peter is still crying and moaning your name. You had been in Nat's room with her, Steve, and Bucky. Sam and Thor had been outside ‘patrolling’ Peter’s room making sure he was as ok as he can be, though it’s been proven that he seems to be in excruciating pain. 

Tony and Bruce had been in the lab the entire day, you’d think they made wonderful progress and found a cure by now but no. All they’ve found was normal samples of Peter’s… everything. He was physically perfectly fine. 

You were very quiet as they played video games and watched movies. You couldn’t help but feel burdened because you knew you could fix all of this. All you needed to do was go to Peter’s room and let him have his way with you. It’s not like you wouldn’t mind. You and Peter have always had this sort of tension and extra friendly behavior between you guys ever since you met. 

To say you hadn’t developed feelings for him would be a huge lie. 

“Are you ok?” Nat asked you.

“No, not really.”

“I know you want to help him but it’s for the better. Let Tony and Bruce find a cure.”

“Actually that won’t be happening anytime soon,” Thor said, walking with Sam. 

“What happened?” Steve asked.

“They haven’t found anything and although Peter will be physically fine, mentally he could be extremely traumatized by the time they find something, if anything. The pollen mimics physical pain until sexual ‘needs’ are fulfilled by the person they desire most,” Thor looked to you at the end. 

“I want to help him,” you said.

“Y/n, that’s not fair to you,” Steve said.

“And it’s not fair to Peter if I don’t help! He didn’t mean to smell the flower. I can't just sit here waiting for nothing to happen when I can go in there and help him!” you argued, “If I don’t, he’ll not only hate you for keeping me away from him but me too for not trying.”

“Don’t be silly, he’d never hate you,” Nat said.

“He will if I’m the reason he’s going to be traumatized for the rest of his life.”

“Come with me,” Nat said, holding your hand.

“Nat,” Steve warned.

“Steve, you and I both know this has to happen. They’re adults,” Nat shot back. 

You followed Nat out of the room. 

“Are you absolutely sure about this? Your first time should be special-”

“First time?” your eyes widen.

“Y/n, I know you're a virgin.”

“I’m not a virgin,” you mumbled.

“Really? When was your first?” she poked.

“It was- was in, it was high school,” you stuttered.

“With who?”

“... Tommy?” you said after a long moment of silence, trying to come up with a name.

“Tommy?” Nat smirked.

“Yeah, he was in my history class,” you lied.

“Ok we’ll work on that,” she said.

“On what?”

“Lying.”

“Hey, virginity is merely a social construct made by men who think their tiny dicks have the ability to change a woman’s life. It’s gonna be like a five second pump; I’ll be in and out,” Nat laughed at that.

“Ok, fine. Follow me.”

You followed her to Peter’s room where his moans and groans got louder with each step you got closer. Truthfully you were a bit nervous about the situation. Sure you did imagine your first to be extra special in a dim lit room with flowers and with someone you love. Well, now it looks like it’s going to be a dark room with your best friend who’s in the room driven by magic sex pollen, but at least you love him. 

You got to the door and Peter instantly knew you were on the other side. His senses overwhelmed him with your scent, your racing heart beat. You exchanged a few words with Nat before she hugged you and left you to go into his room alone. 

You slipped inside and immediately met with Peter crawling on the floor to you in nothing but a pair of boxers; a large prominent tent formed where his dick was. 

“Y/n, you’re here,” he rubbed your legs and kissed your thighs softly still on the floor at your feet. 

“Yeah, I am. I’m here to help you,” you said shakily.

“Oh god, you smell so good,” his hand reached up behind your thighs towards your ass and you panicked. 

“Peter wait,” you pulled his hand away. 

“What, baby? What’s wrong?” he too panicked.

“Nothing, I just… I’m kinda scared.”

“Of what? Of me?” he stood up and backed away from you.

“No! Not of you. I’ve never… done this, you know?”

“Y/n, why are doing this then- ugh!” he groaned, a wave of need and sexual frustration rushed over him making his body cramp. 

“I want to help you,” you grabbed his hand; he pulled his hand back very quickly and retracted his body over to the bed. 

“Peter, please let me help you,” you walked over to him.

“No, Y/n. I can’t do that to you.”

You were getting tired of his arguing. You wanted to do this. You rushed to him and took your shirt off hoping that’ll prove a point or something. 

“Look, look. I want to help you, Pete. Let me do that,” you cupped his face making him look at you. 

His eyes were so dilated nearly black as he looked into your eyes. His hands caressed your bare stomach and lower back making goosebumps rise across your body. He leaned forward running his nose along your neck breathing you in. He used every ounce of control he had in his body to not flip you on the bed rail you into the mattress. He had to be gentle. The idea of you never have been touched shouldn't have turned him on as much as it does. 

Your stomach fluttered and you let out a shaky breath. Arousal pooled in your underwear with each move that Peter made. Your hands rested on his shoulders unsure of what to do but thankfully Peter moved your hands in his hair and you gently ran your fingers through his curly brown locks as he kissed and nibbled at your neck. 

He moved your bra strap down your shoulder tracing his lips along your collarbone to your shoulder.

“I'm so sorry, baby,” he whispered against your skin.

“It’s ok Pete, I want to help you. Teach me. Teach me how to make you feel good.” 

He practically growled picking you up and laying you on his bed. He kissed your stomach and left small bites and purple marks littered across your belly. He looked at you to make sure you were ok before pulling your shorts down your legs and off to the side. He continued to kiss up and down your legs growing harder at the small pants and gasps you made above him. 

“I'm gonna give you a little taste, ok darling?” he whispered against your inner thighs.

You nodded and lifted your hips off the bed for Peter to easily take your underwear off. You grew embarrassed at how wet you were. Peter only chuckled before going in a licking along your entrance. You gasped and clenched your thighs together, only to wrap around Peter’s head pulling him closer to you.

This isn’t Peter’s first time eating a girl out so he was obviously quite skilled in bringing you a lot of pleasure from his tongue alone. Now in his twenties, after high school and after his identity was revealed, Peter somewhat tumbled his way into playboy town just like his mentor. 

Girls left and right shot their chance to spend a night in the spider boy’s bed. But when Peter met you, oh boy, the kid fell in love. You were this innocent little thing that Peter just wanted to hold and take care of all the time. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. He stopped seeing other women in hopes that one day you’d be out of your mind enough to give him a shot. 

Now here you were, laying in his bed like an angel, letting him have his way with you because he was shithead and smelled the flower when he wasn’t supposed to. 

Your hips squirmed around, pressure building up in the pit of your stomach. You moaned loudly as you got closer to your oragsm. Your hands went to Peter’s hair making him hum when you tugged on his hair. His vibrations pushed over the edge and you came for the first time that night on Peter’s face.

“God that was hot, baby. Are you ok?” he asked, crawling up your body after discarding his boxers.

“Yeah, that was amazing,” you cupped his face, smiling.

He leaned down and kissed you for the first time ever. His hands roamed your almost naked body except for your bra of which you still had on. Not for long of course. Peter leaned back to sit up pulling you with him so you were now sitting straddling his lap. 

You could feel his dick against you and your body shuddered in arousal. His hands wrapped around you to skillfully remove your bra, the last piece of clothing left on you. When he did so you covered yourself in instinct never having been naked in front of anyone before in your life. 

“Don’t cover up princess. You’re so beautiful. I wanna see you,” he whispered, cupping his hand under your chin so you could look at him.

“Sorry, it’s- It’s a lot,” you whispered back. 

“I know and I’ll try to go slow but if I’m not inside you right now I think I’m gonna pass out,” he moaned. 

You looked down in between your bodies to find Peter’s dick big, swollen, and red. You felt bad because you don’t know if it’ll fit inside you and it looks painful. 

“Please, Yn,” Peter had tears in eyes begging for you to take the pain away.

“Ok, I’m ready.”

Peter grabbed his cock and lined up to your entrance. You got up and slowly sank down feeling him stretching you out. With how aroused and wet you were after Peter’s mouth you were able to slide all the way down without feeling too much pain.

Peter moaned when he bottomed out and grabbed your face you kiss passionately. You moved slowly up and down and soon all the pain you felt subsided into pleasure and you too started moaning above him. 

“You look so fucking good riding me, princess.”

His words made you moan even more embarrassed that everyone can probably hear you and Peter having sex. You bit your lip in hopes to silence the moans as much as possible, but Peter didn’t like that.

“Don’t. I want everyone in this building to know who fucking you this good,” he flipped you over onto you back and started thrusting wildly. 

“Let them know what a good little girl you are for daddy. Let them know who’s name you’re gonna be screaming all night.”

“Peter oh god,” you moaned.

“Huh? You like it when I call you a good girl?”

“Yes!”

“My good girl. My little slut,” Peter groaned in your ear.

You were getting insanely close to your climax and Peter’s words only sped up the approach. 

“Daddy, I think I’m close,” you whispered, pleasure becoming overwhelming.

“Let go baby. Cum all over my cock,” he said.

Your oragsm ripped through you and you practically screamed into his ear. Pleasure came over you in a huge wave. Your eyes screwed shut and your legs wrapped around Peter’s torso pulling him impossibly close. Your body felt limp under Peter’s and when you opened your eyes Peter's face held worrisome and frustration. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“I haven’t came,” his voice trembled.

“It’s ok. We can keep going,” you said tiredly.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he buried his face in your neck.

“You won’t hurt me, Peter. I promise.”

He kissed softly before gently flipping you over and thrusted into furiously.

Six hours later Peter finally came after you did so nine times; and that was before you stopped counting. Your body shook and Peter cleaned you up. He had a small fridge where he kept drinks from time to time and grabbed a water bottle for you to drink. 

You breathed heavily after drinking a copious amount of water before laying back down. You turned to check the clock on his bedside and saw that it was around three thirty in the morning. Peter crawled into bed with you, both still naked not caring enough to change. He held you impossibly close, burying his face in your shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry. Are you ok?” he mumbled in your skin. 

“I mean it was a lot,” you chuckled.

“I swear if it weren’t for that stupid fucking pollen our first time would have been softer and special,” he said, making you look at him with surprise. 

“What do you mean?”

“Uh, well, look. Y/n, I really like you and I know that timing is horrible but it’s true. I promise.”

“Well, I like you too,” you smiled at him.

“Really?”

“Yeah!”

“Wow. God, you’re amazing. Thank you for today,” he whispered, cuddling you close.

“Of course. I’d do anything for you.” 

You both fell  asleep soundly in each other's arms until you both woke up the next day from loud yet muffled voices downstairs. The sun was shining very bright, lighting the whole room up brightly. You stirred around and peeked over Peter’s sleeping body to find that it was around noon already and you two were still in bed. 

Peter moved a bit slowly waking up. You turned around to face and watched his beautiful face slowly come to life. His eyes met your eyes and you both smiled before bursting into giggles; hiding your face in his chest. 

“We’ll have to get up soon, you know,” he said, making you sigh dramatically.

“Let’s run away, before they make fun of us. They had to have heard, right?” you said, slightly panicked.

Peter just laughed and shook his head. He reached to kiss you, moving your hair off your neck eyes widening. 

“Oh man,” he said, thumb rubbing the dark spots he left on you.

“What?” You pushed the sheets off your body feeling intensely sore. You heard Peter gasped as you trotted to a mirror.

Your body was covered in bruises and hickeys that Peter left for literally everyone to see. When you looked in the mirror you yelled Peter’s name completely shocked at the state of your body. 

“I can’t believe you!”

“Well, in my opinion I think you looking fucking sexy,” he said coming up behind you.

“I like them,” you said shyly, “But everyone’s gonna see them, no?”

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen next time.”

“Next time?”

“Hell yeah. Only if you want of course,” he chuckled, “Let’s take a shower before we grab some food.”

That was filled with giggles and little touches. Kisses were exchanged practically every minute. You both came out of the shower and Peter so generously lent you a pair of clean boxers and one of his shirts fitting way too big on you. He wore these delicious looking grey sweatpants and a tight fitted black shirt. You practically drooled over him.

“No, later,” he winked.

He grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers before heading down stairs preparing for what could be an upcoming disaster. You came down stairs meeting everyone appearing to be arguing probably over what you did. Everyone noticed you two and immediately stopped conversing. 

Tony sat on a stool, arms crossed and an unamused look staring at you both while everyone else looked down or at each other, anywhere at but you guys.

“Before you say anything, everything that happened is my fault,” Peter pulled you behind him. 

Tony simply looked at you and made you feel shy and ashamed somewhat under his gaze. He told you to stay away and you didn’t listen.

“Don’t even look at her. She has nothing to do with this,” he said when Tony shifted his gaze.

“Relax, kid. Look we all talked. Thor told me about the effects the pollen can have mentally and the trauma it can impact when ‘untreated’ for too long. We weren’t going to find a cure anytime soon and I don’t even want to think about the consequences you’d have to pay because I'm a stubborn old man who didn’t like seeing the kids not be kids anymore. You both are adults and I had no right to interfere with that. Besides everyone knows you two are in love.”

“We’re not in love,” Peter mumbled.

“Love is such a strong word,” you mumbled simultaneously. 

“Don’t argue with me,” Tony said. 

“Sorry,” you both whispered.

“I’m sorry,” he admitted.

“We also agreed that starting today we will be installing soundproofing in both of your rooms and Y/n, maybe put some ice on…” he pointed to your neck but then waved around your whole body because you were pretty beaten up. 

“Thanks, guys,” Peter said holding your hand again.

“Congrats on getting the girl finally,” Steve said.

Before you two left you saw Nat wink at you and you smiled running away with Peter most likely to go cuddle and maybe fuck another round if your body feels better. As much as you hate to admit, thank god Peter smelled that fucking plant. 

#peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker oneshot #peter parker one shot #aged!up peter parker #peter parker sex pollen #sex pollen #tom holland #tom holland smut #marvel smut

[pearl-blue-musings]

Could I order a medium well steak with mashed potatoes and peas please? I’ll be splitting it with Bakugo and/or Kirishima ☺️

Oh honey yes yes you can!! And thanks for giving me my first poly fic ☺️☺️ 💪💥

Pairing: KiriBaku x fem!reader poly is this happening or.???

Warnings: smut, 18+, oral fem and male receiving, hair pulling, one or two daddy calling, threesome, fingering, spanking, it’s my first time writing poly mkay

Enjoy your meal~

Kirishima Eijirou, Bakugou Katsuki, and you. Friends since high school and now inseparable in your fourth year of college. The dynamic between the three of you was always energetic, supportive and fun. Most of your friends always found you three together and it would always be weird if one of you was without the other two. Yes, this was perfect, it was working, it was fine.

It didn’t matter that feelings between the three of you began to shift from platonic to romantic.

When did that start really? Well it could be boiled down to a couple of instances. The first one being your first major heartbreak in college. You were a freshman, young, a little naïve, so you dove head first into the arms of an upperclassmen who claimed to see you for you. Until you saw him in the arms, rather sheets, of someone else. The pain you felt was excruciating as you ran and told your two best friends. Each of them lending an ear and some advice to your heart slowly closing off to them and the world.

“That extra didn’t deserve you anyways. You can do way better.”

“I already got your favorite ice cream. Now come on, I know you wanna cry in my shoulder. We’re here for you.”

You hadn’t expected them to be so kind and caring about that. The three of you ended up cuddling together and watching your favorite movies. It was confusing. This is normal for friends right? Totally platonic for friends to snuggle and provide affectionate care after a bad break up. Totally and completely.

But your heart can’t stop racing and you can’t stop the warmth you feel from their closeness.

The next time was when Bakugou’s college hockey team made it to the national title your second year. You and Kirishima had been at every game, even the ones out of state. You cheered him on and yelled at all the right times when plays and calls seemed unfair.

“You call that an infraction? Bakugou barely touched that guy, come on!”

“Hell yeah bro! That’s how you score on those unmanly boys over there!”

He never admitted it, but seeing the two of you in the stands at all of his games made him want to play harder and better, push himself to be the best despite any potential injuries he could have gotten. Being able to hear your intense screams over the crowd and Kiri’s booms of what’s manly on the ice and what isn’t made his heart race in a way he couldn’t figure out. There’s no way it’s the l word. No, they’re his best friends.

That’s all it is, he loves his best friends in the most non-romantic way possible.

The third and last instance was a little more personal between the three of you; starting with you and Kirishima. It was a party, celebrating Kirishima’s new job at the university gym, where you began to realize your feelings. The apartment was filled with close friends and some acquaintances where alcohol and some drugs flowed freely. The two men had lived together with a couple other guys they knew so for the most part they were on host duties. When you had finally arrived with a couple of your girlfriends, you greeted the blond and red head and continued to dance and mingle with your friends.

About an hour after you had entered, you walked over to Kirishima’s room to use his bathroom (you didn’t want to touch Denki’s bathroom) in his room. When you walked into his room, you were surprised to see him standing in front of his closet, half naked and changing shirts.

“Ah geez Eiji! Sorry to interrupt, I’ll wait outside.”

He chuckles and finishes putting on his shirt. “It’s all good pebble. I just had a little spill and needed to change.” He looks you up and down in an unfamiliar way. “Did you need to use my bathroom?”

You feel your cheeks heat up at how close he had gotten. It had to be the alcohol, right? That’s the only explanation. “Yeah,” you huff out, “but I don’t know if I need to go anymore ha ha.”

He grins at you and asks, “do you wanna sit for a bit? I feel like we haven’t had much time just the two of us.”

And who were you to say no to one of your best friends? So you sit beside him on his bed, something you’ve done plenty of times before. But somehow this felt, different. You feel him lay his head on your lap, a move he’s done before to indicate how tired he is and you naturally rake your fingers through his soft hair. You wish he would wear it down more often, you think he looks better that way.

“You really think so?”

You look down at him and freeze. Seems that you were talking out loud instead of in your mind. You giggle awkwardly, but keep your fingers attached to his scalp. “Yeah,” you hum. “It looks really nice.”

He hums into you, enjoying the feeling of your hand in his hair. A soft smile adorns his face as he muses to himself, “wouldn’t it be funny if Bakugou gelled his hair down?”

You don’t do much to hold in the laughter that erupts from your stomach, making the man in your lap laugh with you. The small intimate moment between you becomes more intimate when Kirishima sits up to look you in the eyes, his pupils dilated. You feel his hand come up to your cheek as his thumb rubs circles near the crease of your eye. “God you’re beautiful,” he whispers holding your gaze. The hand that was previously in his hair rests on his broad shoulder. Had he always been this rough yet soft to the touch? You don’t realize you’re sharing breaths until his next words are felt on your lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nod fervently and close the short distance between your lips. The rush that you feel when his warm lips are on yours is an experience you want to relive over and over. Just like him, his kiss is soft and full of care as he gently kisses you. Kirishima’s hands run down your body and find comfort on your hips while your wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. You can feel how hard he is from your bodies grinding on each other.

You break for air with a string of saliva connecting your lips. This is it. You might’ve known it for a long time but it’s glaring at you right in your face. You love him, and from what you can muster, he loves you too. The way his fingers are still touching you even though the act of passion has ended. Your foreheads are touching as you both exchange breaths.

“I,” he starts, “I think I’m in love with you. Well, have been for awhile.”

You smile when he smiles and slowly peck his lips. “I love you too, Eijirou.” You pause to cup his cheek and feel happiness grow inside when he leans into it. “But what about-“

“Bakugou?”

“Yeah.”

Your hand falls into your lap and Kirishima reaches for it. He holds it gently and strokes his thumb at the back of it. The silence in the room isn’t complete because of the muffled music and shouting outside the closed door. You part your lips and struggle for the next couple of seconds to say the right thing. “I don’t want our dynamic to change.”

“Neither do I. But I can’t deny these feelings I’ve had for you anymore! Ever since that jerk cheated on you at the beginning of college, I think that’s when my feelings started. I hated seeing you cry and I vowed that if you ever did cry that I would be the one to wipe away your tears and take care of you. Not that you can’t take care yourself, you know what I mean!” Your light chuckle helps him to keep talking. “But I think about how it’s always the three of us and… I don’t wanna leave Katsuki out of this, us! It wouldn’t feel right.

“And I think when we saw him score that winning goal last year, with the way you looked at him I thought you could never look at me that way.”

Your back sits up straighter at his words. Was that true? Did you also have feelings for Bakugou as well? He had turned his face away from you at his admittance, but you pulled him back for a kiss. This one seemed to be more heated and passionate than the last as your hands search and prod his warm body all over.

You were so tightly wound up in each other you neglected to hear his door opening.

“Hey dumbass, (Y/n) went in here to go to the bathroom forever ago- what the fuck?!”

Kirishima pulled away from you quickly at hearing his other best friends voice. The two of you do your best to fix your state of clothes but the damage had already been done. You’ve seen Bakugou upset before but never like this. Never like this at the two of you. He looked broken and betrayed.

You face him and get up off the bed, “Katsuki, wait lemme explain!”

Vermillion eyes glare down at you in such passionate anger that you were almost terrified to say anything. “I think everything makes perfect sense to me. You two have been dating behind my back haven’t you.”

It wasn’t a question but a statement.

Kirishima responds first, “wait it’s not what you think, ‘Suki. We actually need to talk to you about something.”

“Tch,” he roughly pulls himself away from the two of you, “don’t fucking call me that. How long has this been going on, hah?! You really think I wouldn’t notice? You guys have been making go-go eyes at each other for years.”

“Would you please hear us out? And close the door,” you murmur, “everyone’s looking in here.”

Bakugou looks to the two of you and then behind him as his friends look on. Most people had dispersed or left so only your close friend group had stayed. Being the good and observant friends they are, Denki was the first to speak up.

“I think we’ll go somewhere else. You three need to talk.” And in his slightly drunk and slightly high daze, he and Sero managed to get everyone out of the doorway and out of the apartment. So now it’s just the three of you and open truth of the situation.

Bakugou roughly shuts the door and stands above the two of you. “So,” he huffs, “how long have you been dating?”

You can’t help but hear the hint of hurt in the last word he said. You want to reach out but know that it won’t help presently. “Ka- uh Bakugou, we’re not dating. We just, kissed and confessed our feelings.”

The ashy blond pouts and crosses his arms. “Don’t lie to me, dumbass. Shitty hair, is that really what happened?”

“Yeah dude, we really were just talking and then we kinda kissed and talked about our feelings.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Everything!” You had let your emotions get the best of you as you yelled at him. “It’s always been the three of us and we don’t wanna ruin this dynamic we have.”

Katsuki snaps back, “I get it. I would be in the way. Just, fuck, go be happy.”

Kirishima stands up and prevents Bakugou from leaving. “No dude, you don’t get it. (Y/n) and I came to an unspoken understanding:

“We can’t do this without you.”

With his anger subsiding, Bakugou was vulnerable. And in his state of vulnerability, Kirishima took the opportunity to cover his lips with his own. The ashy blond is caught off guard, but eventually concedes into the kiss. Something inside you stirs at seeing your two best friends kiss. It’s not jealousy, it’s contentment; like everything is finally fitting and working out.

When the two males part, their breaths are heavy as they stare into each others eyes. Kirishima speaks up first. “This is what we wanted to talk to you about.” He then tangles his fingers with the stunned in silence blond. “We think, no, we know that we have feelings for each other. But also-“

“We have feelings for you too Katsuki,” you chime in from the bed. “We couldn’t do this, thing, without you. I can’t imagine life without you two.”

Bakugou looks over to where you are on the bed, and his eyes soften. He can see the love in your eyes, a gaze that he’s seen you give Kirishima and maybe you’ve given those looks to him and he didn’t notice? Almost like he thought you wouldn’t have feelings for him, or that his red headed friend would feel similarly.

“Tch, idiots. How long have you,” he looks away as his cheeks start to tint pink, “had feelings for me?”

You stand up and walk up to the shy man, taking his other hand. “I’m not sure. I might’ve realized it when Eiji and I were cheering for you at one of your games… T-the way you looked when you noticed us made my heart leap. You were so happy and satisfied with that look on your face Katsuki. But I was confused cause by then I had already confirmed my feelings for Eiji so I- mmph!”

Katsuki ended your rambling and pulled you into his body. You had always dreamt and fantasized about what his tout and fit body would feel against yours, and it’s better than you could have imagined. Where Kirishima was soft, Bakugou was rough as he licks at your bottom lip and thrusts his tongue in your mouth. You accept him hungrily as your arms wrap around his shoulders. Your lips mesh so easily and effortlessly together that you can’t help but moan.

When the two of you pull apart, Katuski is back to his smug self. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that princess. Damn, so what now?”

The question doesn’t linger too long in the air as the three of you exchange glances at each other. “Well, we just keep doing what we’re doing. You know, now with kissing and hand holding and sex stuff I guess, hehe.” Kirishima laughs out as realization comes to all of your faces. To be fair, you all have already kissed and you doubt Kiri’s earlier hard on has gone down.

Being brave, you step up to Kirishima, grabbing his collar and pulling him into a lust filled kiss. You grind yourself on his torso, forcing him to put his hands on your waist. His grip on you tightens and doesn’t hesitate to lift you up, making your legs wrap around his waist. Behind you, you feel hands trail down your back sensually, stopping at your ass. You pause your kiss with Kirishima to whine at the touch, feeling Bakugou’s hands go down your thighs and over Kiri’s hands.

“Put her on the bed, Eijirou.”

The way he commands the two of you, the way how he growled that out right by your ear made your panties damp. Kirishima nods and walks you two toward his bed, gently placing you down. He works on getting your leggings off, slowly pulling each leg out to keep touching your soft skin. Once they’re off, you’re left in your top and lacy thong, unaware of how the night would turn out. The wet spot at your core doesn’t go unnoticed by the two males and Kirishima licks his lips and Bakugou starts palming at his jeans, hissing as he does so. “Is that for us, pebble?” He takes a single finger and slowly swipes it up your covered slit making your toes curl and a huff of air leaves your lips. “Fuck, baby you’re so wet. Katsu, you gotta see this up close.” He takes off your thong, brings it up to his nose for a long sniff, and stuffs them in his pocket.

You feel a new pair of hands graze your inner thighs, as a head of ashy blond is now seen between your legs. He breathes into your cunt and grins at your mewl, the sound going to his hardening cock. Without warning, his tongue dives into your folds, going in between kitten licks and deep thrusts of his tongue into you. Your jaw drops in pleasure and you can’t help but moan loudly. Bakugou pulls away, and grunts “Think you can shut her up shitty hair?”

You hear the red head chuckle to the side of you as he had already removed his pants and now his boxers. His cock springs free, swinging upward on his abs and already leaking pre-cum. The way you’re looking at him like a full course meal makes his dick twitch. “I can’t wait to shove my dick in your mouth.” You see a little bit of drool fall from the corner of his mouth and just seeing that turns you on so much. He moves to straddle you over your chest, careful not to sink down or hurt you in anyway. His ruby irises meet yours as he caresses your cheek, “is this okay?”

You nod, words failing you because Bakugou hasn’t let up on your pussy. Kirishima inches closer and sit up slightly so that your lips can finally met his warm and hard dick. You wrap your lips around the tip, your tongue flitting at his leaking tip causing the strong man above you to moan loudly. That moan caused a ripple effect from you sucking him harder and Bakugou’s tongue swirling on your clit, which made you moan onto Kiri’s cock. All three of you are beginning to feel extreme pleasure at once, almost as if everything in your lives was building up to this point.

You sink your mouth deeper onto throbbing cock, causing Kirishima to pant and curse. His hips struggle to stay still but your tongue, throat, and mouth are working wonders on him. You never thought he would be somewhat loud in the bedroom, but it’s making you love him more. You’re snapped out of your thoughts when you feel a slap on your inner thigh and but hear an extra one. The extra one you heard was Bakugou lifting his body just enough for him to reach Kirishima’s are ass and smack it. Just knowing he got spanked made you wetter.

“Heh, do you like it when I smack his ass baby girl? You’re gushing down here after I did that. Lemme do it again, yeah?” And you hear the sound of palm against skin and you taste more of him in your mouth after. Bakugou continues his assault on your pussy as your hips gyrate into his face, moans and cries muffled by Kirishima’s long and girthy cock in your mouth. Kiri moves his hand from your cheek to your hair and tugs as he chases his high.

He feels you whine something on his dick and smirk. “You gonna cum pebble? You’re gonna cum all over ‘Suki’s face while I cum down your throat? C’mon baby girl, milk my cock I wanna mess up your throat, ah fuck this feels good!”

Bakugou inserts two fingers into your aching pussy as he sucks on your clit. Your hips are moving out of rhythm as you feel the build up deep in your core want to explode. You suck hard on Kirishima’s cock as he moans above you loudly, filling your mouth and throat with his seed. As he comes down from his hard orgasm, you let out a pop as you let go of his cock. He removes himself from your chest and takes your chin in his thumb and forefinger, running his thumb over your swollen lips. “I don’t want you to spill a drop until he makes you cum. If any of it spills or you swallow it without permission, he won’t let you cum and I’m gonna punish you okay pebble?”

You nodded and he lets you go, realizing he hasn’t taken off your top. Kirishima brings you up to take off your top, giving you a look to remember his words just seconds earlier. He removes it and realizes you aren’t wearing anything underneath. He lifts an eyebrow at you and chuckles darkly. “You’re so naughty,” he growls as he takes a hardening nipple into his mouth. He sucks earnestly as Bakugou finger and tongue fucks you. You feel your orgasm getting closer and closer as Bakugou growls into your pussy.

“You ready to cum baby girl? You heard Ejij, don’t spill a fucking drop until I say.”

You nod vigorously, avoiding being vocal to keep your mouth full.

“Then cum baby,” he sucks on your clit harder, “cum for daddy.”

Your own orgasm rocked through you so hard you were seeing stars. You obeyed their commands and only swallowed after you were sure you were done cumming, holding onto Kirishima’s back tightly as your nails dug into it. Bakugou removes himself from between your legs, licking his chin and observing your juices on his fingers. He taps Kirishima on the shoulder and shoves his fingers into his mouth, catching the red head off guard. He moans around the wet fingers as his tongue dives in the valleys of Bakugous fingers. The scene before you was incredibly erotic as the to men didn’t break eye contact.

“She tastes good doesn’t she?”

“Mmm,” he releases with a pop, “fuck yeah she does, babe.” Your chest heaves up and down as you come down from your high, truly enjoying the moment between the trio of you. Kirishima lightly plays with your breasts still as Bakugou moves to the other side of the bed. “Get her on all fours. I can’t wait to fuck that mouth of hers.”

The two of you do as he says, and you get on all fours on the bed. You see Katsuki undress and you do your best to keep your dirty thoughts to yourself as you realize you are in the presence of two god-like looking men. You feel Kirishima smack you ass and you yelp out the sudden sensation. You hear him snicker behind you as you feel his hands knead your ass. The man behind you leans over you, hands trailing up your back and sides as he asks. “All of this is okay, right?”

Bakugou grunts, “speak.” He grabs your cheeks and forces you to look at him, “now.”

You nod at first, but remember that your mouth is empty. “Yes,” you pant, “please have your way with me, daddies.”

Wet lips attach to yours as you make out with Bakugou once more, accepting your consent. Kirishima palms at your cunt, making you clench around nothing, as his other hand reaches for his nightstand to grab a condom. The red head had no idea that he would need these anytime soon, especially with the two of you. Once the condom is on, he lines himself behind you, teasing your hole with his tip. At the same time, Bakugou lines up his aching cock with your lips, outlining them with this dick.

When Kirishima finally pushes in your eyes go wide. You knew he was big, but fuck would he fit? He moves slowly for you to adjust to his size and length. You pant wildly as he grips your hips tighter at how slick you are. Soon enough, he’s bottomed out in you and waits. He can tell you aren’t used to his size yet and traces your spine to comfort you. “You’re taking me so well, pebble. Tell me when it’s okay for me to move, okay?”

You let out more shaky breaths and then crane your neck to give him the most blissed out face he’s ever seen. Tears are building in the corner of your eyes, pupils blown out and your tongue lolling to the side as you tell him to move. And when he does, you never thought that fucking, no making love could feel so ecstatic, so euphoric. The feeling is overwhelming but you love it, it’s a good overwhelming.

You barely have time to moan because Bakugou shoves his needy cock into your mouth. He’s not as big as Kirishima so blowing him is going to be a fun adventure. You wrap one hand around the base and hollow out your cheeks as you suck him in. He hisses above you as one hand finds purchase in your hair. His hips stutter a bit when you lick a stripe up his cock from base to tip. A few pants escape him when you do that but what has him moaning more is when you lick and play with his balls. His grip gets tighter as you keep playing and messing with his cock and balls.

Meanwhile Kirishima is slamming into you, his balls hitting you with every thrust. You never knew you needed this but now that you have it you don’t want to go with out it. There’s one particular thrust he gives that makes your eyes roll back and stop working on Bakugou briefly. He tugs at your hair and you get back to licking and servicing him. Above you, you feel a hand on the middle of your back and a hand leave your hair.  You catch Kirishima whisper a “c’mere” and the sounds of lips and tongues melding together is heard. The scene is absolutely erotic and you are living for it. Having your two best friends, no lovers, make out above you almost makes you cum again as your pussy clenches.

Eijirou pulls away when your pussy clenches around his dick in order for him to whimper at the sensation. He starts pumping into you harder, wanting you two to cum for the second time. You have a feeling Bakugou is close because his thrusts have become erratic and he’s pulling on you harder. The pull of your hair and the way Kiri’s dick feels inside you is enough for you to cum.

You whine on Katsuki’s dick, seeing the tears in your eyes as his hips keep moving back and forth. “You ready to take my seed, huh pretty girl? I know you are, just look at you. Fuck,” he moans out, “you’re something else princess. Shit, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum. Unf, (Y/n), EIjirou, fuck!”

His cum fills up your throat, some of it spilling out the side of your mouth. You swallow what you can and release him with a pop. Your breathing is ragged as you admire the taste of both men mixed on your tongue. The hands that were previously on your hips go to your stomach and pull you into a strong chiseled chest. Kirishima rests his forehead on your shoulder blade as he fucks you harder. “C’mon pebble I’m so close, I’m so close. God you feel amazing,” he mewls into your ear. One hand goes to your swollen nub and rubs at it intensely. Your voice raises an octave as you practically scream in pleasure, the waves of your second orgasm hitting you without warning.

Kirishima pumps up into you faster after he felt you tighten around him. “Oh fuck, oh fuck I’m gonna cum (Y/n). Katsuki I’m cumming, I’m cumming! Ah fuck!” He holds you tightly as he pumps through his orgasm, speeding up and then slowing down as the both of you calm down from your highs. You stay impaled on his cock, enjoying the sheen of sweat between the three of you. Bakugou comes up to you and kisses you sweetly, carefully lifting you off of Kirishima’s dick. He takes a finger to trace along the outside of your face and then over your lips. He lays the two of you down on the bed, just embracing the moment. Kirishima gets up and shaky legs to take care of the used up condom. He throws it in the trash and then heads into his bathroom. When he comes back out, he hands Bakugou a towel and the two of them begin to tend to you and clean you up. “You did so well for us babe,” Bakugou whispers, kissing your cheek and wiping your right leg. Kirishima has your left and himself to clean up.

Once you’re all cleaned up, Kirishima takes the towels to the laundry room and returns with bottles of water for each of you. He slides under the covers, the top comforter replaced with a Crimson Riot one, and cuddles up to you and Bakugou. “So,” he starts, “does that mean we’re together? Like officially?”

Bakugou who’s facing the two you, with you in the middle, rolls his eyes and extends an arm out to the adorable red head. “Dumbass, I wouldn’t have done this if we weren’t. Now shut up,” his voice lowers, “she’s asleep.”

The diner is open

#answered #the diner #bnha smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #bakugou smut #kiribaku #kiribaku x reader #eijirou x reader #katsuki bakugo x y/n #kirishima x y/n #first time writing poly

[matwith1t]

A/N: More fluff!! Ahh!! And a request?! 😱  Thank you to the anon who sent it in! Please enjoy some boyfriend Mat content!! Feedback is my favorite thing in the world and I’d love to know every detail of your thoughts!! Thanks a million for all of your kind reblogs/messages/tags about my previous writings 🥺  It means the absolute world to me 🥺  Requests are still open!!! Send ‘em my way if you have any 😎

Request: Mat Barzal taking care of a sick girlfriend !!! Fluffy mat is superior… In which you’re sick and Mat takes care of you.

MASTERLIST | LET’S CHAT 🥂 | Mat Barzal x Reader

Warnings: throwing up // WC: 2.4K // Fluff

Waking up with an excruciating pounding sensation right in the middle of your forehead was less than ideal. And the sun peaking through the slits of the blinds made it even worse. But the one thing that made the headache pain––and the bile churning in your stomach––a little less dull, was the feeling of your boyfriend’s arm around your waist, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

You tried your hardest to concentrate on the soft breaths that came from Mat’s slightly parted lips that fanned your neck. Tried your hardest to concentrate on his hand that slightly squeezed your waist, his telltale sign that he was waking up. And tried your hardest to keep your eyes shut as Mat slid one of his legs between yours.

“Morning,” Mat mumbled as he placed a soft kiss on the base of your neck.

But even that wasn’t enough to stop the discomfort in your stomach as you felt an increase of saliva in the back of your mouth.

Hastily, you threw the sheets off you and stumbled out of bed.

The bathroom door was left wide open and ran as fast as you could to the toilet. And once the lid of the toilet was up, your head faced downward into the bowl, you emptied out the contents of your stomach from the night before. The ugly sound of bile coming up through your esophagus was one you tried your hardest to keep quiet, but it was no use as it echoed off the bathroom walls.

Not even a minute after you bolted into the bathroom alone, you felt a presence behind you. Mat ran his fingers slowly up and down your spine, as his other hand made sure there were no loose strands of hair in front of your face. You clutched the outer rim of the toilet and he was silent as he just offered up his presence.

You felt moisture in the corner of your eyes from squeezing them so tight. But after a few deep breaths, and the wave of nausea floating away, you closed the lid of the seat and flushed the toilet. With your arms on the lid of the toilet, the porcelain felt cool on your skin.

Tilting your head to the side, so that your cheek rested on your arm, you looked up at Mat who had his eyebrows pulled together in worry, “Morning to you too.”

Mat rolled his eyes and let out a soft laugh at your late response to his morning greeting. With his fingers still stroking your spine, he gave you a sympathetic smile, “Feeling better?”

“No.”

At your honest answer, Mat let out another laugh as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “Let’s get you back to bed.”

With a groan, you told him you wanted to brush your teeth first. So he grabbed you a new toothbrush, and after you brushed your teeth, you sluggishly made your way back to his bed. The lingering pressure of your headache was still present, so you wrapped yourself up in his blankets and buried your head into the pillow he slept on last night.

You felt a dip in the mattress next to where you laid curled up, and then felt a hand slowly rub your shoulder, “Do you want anything to eat? Toast always makes me feel better after I’m sick.”

The thought of putting any food into your stomach at the moment made you even more nauseous than you were a few moments ago. So you shook your head no.

“Tea?” He offered.

Again, you shook your head.

“Water? Or––”

“I just want to sleep,” your voice was muffled as you spoke into the pillow. But you knew Mat heard you when he squeezed your shoulder.

You didn’t want to admit it, but part of you was embarrassed with yourself throwing up in front of Mat. Sure, he was your boyfriend and had most likely seen you in worse situations, but the sudden sickness came out of nowhere. And there was part of you that wanted to be left alone––to sit with your embarrassment until it passed like the nausea––but when you felt his hand retract from your shoulder, you wished his touch didn’t go away.

As Mat stood up, the dip in the mattress was no longer present, and for the third time in the morning, he pressed a gentle kiss on your temple, “Alright.”

You heard his footsteps softly trek out of his room, and you so badly wanted to reach out and ask him to stay. Because you knew that he had the capability to make you feel like the stomach bug would pass instantly, but the logical part of you let him walk away. If he were to get sick, that wouldn’t go over so well with hockey.

Ten minutes later, you heard the door slightly creek open. You barely lifted your head up from the pillow to see Mat walking towards you with a steaming cup of tea and thermometer in his hand. He set the mug of tea down on his nightstand and sat down on the side of the mattress, next to you.

Mat tapped the thermometer on your cheek, “Open up.”

But like before, you just shook your head no, “We already know I’m sick.”

“I just want to know if you have a fever,” he whispered just as soft as the look in his eyes. You didn’t want to have your temperature taken, but when you opened your eyes more and saw his messy hair sticking up in a few directions, affectionate eyes wide in a silent plea, paired with the softest smile you had ever seen, you opened your mouth. Triumphantly, his smile widened as he placed the thermometer under your tongue, “There we go.”

The faint beep of the thermometer working to take your temperature sounded louder in the silence. But when it rang a few times, signaling it was done, you crossed your eyes to see if you could see the final temperature. But Mat had taken the stick out of your mouth and grimaced.

“One-oh-one point eight.”

With a groan, you buried your head back into the pillow, “See, I told you––”

“I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t a super high fever,” Mat spoke in a caring voice as he caressed your cheek, “I’m going to pick some stuff up from the store. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

Before he could turn away, a whine left your lips as you rolled over and took hold of his wrist, “Don’t go.”

He bent down so he was eye level with you and rested his palm on your forehead, “You’re burning up. I promise it’ll be the fastest trip ever, you won’t even know I’m gone.”

With a hmpf, you let go of his wrist and curled yourself back into a fetal position to stop the chills running through your body. You heard Mat let out a chuckle as he bent down to press another kiss to your temple as he whispered another promise to be back soon.

You tried your best to get some sleep, but with your body chills soon turning into body aches, it was pointless. And with the headache pain still looming about, you didn’t want to scroll through your phone. So you stared up at Mat’s ceiling, and tried to count up to the highest number you could.

You didn’t know what number you were on, but it was long forgotten when you heard his front door open and the rattling of bags together. And soon enough, you saw Mat in the doorway––both hands holding onto plastic pharmacy bags––and couldn’t help but smile.

“I’ll be in soon,” he mirrored your smile, “Promise.”

With a nod, you fell back onto the pillow as a chill ran down your spine. And while you wished he would’ve been back with you sooner, he didn’t break his promise. Because soon enough, Mat pushed the door open with his hip and closed it with the back of his foot. And you would’ve taken a picture of him if the harsh brightness of your phone screen didn’t cause your head to feel like it was splitting in half.

In his right hand, he held a steaming hot bowl of broth. In his left hand, he held a few packages of over the counter medication. Under his chin, pressed in between his chest, he clutched a few magazines, pencils, and word search books. And over his left shoulder hung a heavy blanket.

You felt your shoulders drop at how adorable he looked waddling over to your side of the bed. First, he set the steaming bowl of broth down next to the mug of lukewarm tea. Then, he set the medication down in a pile on the bed. After that, he brought both hands up to successfully take the magazines and word search books out from under his chin without them falling to the ground. And then finally, he shrugged the blanket off his shoulder so that it landed on your face.

“Sorry,” Mat chuckled as you pushed the blanket away. “I called my mom,” he said as he put the puzzle books on his nightstand to sit on the edge of the bed, “She said broth would help you feel better. And told me what medicine to get.”

The explosion of love you felt in your chest was stronger than the sharp pain that shot through your head.

“And I got us a few puzzle books,” he picked up a neon blue book, “I figured it would hurt to look at your phone or any screen, so no Netflix today for us.” He plopped the book down back on the nightstand as he picked up the bowl of broth.

Slowly, you pushed yourself up by your forearms and leaned against the headboard, “For us?”

Mat nodded his head as he stared into the broth, concentrating harder than any person should as they stirred liquid, “Yeah, I don’t want to do anything that would make you feel even worse, so no screens,” he looked up at you and shrugged his shoulders, “I like word searches.”

You let out a small laugh and tilted your head slightly out of admiration for the man sitting in front of you, wondering how on earth you got so lucky.

“And I saw you curl up before I left,” he directed his eyes to the blanket on your lap, “So I figured you needed to be warmer.”

You didn’t think you could love him––or any other person––more than you did in this moment.

“I love you,” you voiced the thought that circled around your mind on repeat.

Like every time Mat heard those three words from your lips, a wide and contiguous smile lit up his face, “I love you, too,” Mat affirmed his love for you as he shoveled up some liquid onto the spoon. You could see a few steam clouds from the spoon, but Mat softly blew on it to cool it down, “Open up.”

He was just as persistent with the broth as he was the thermometer. But like before, you shook your head, “You don’t need to feed me.”

Mat dropped his shoulders, as he jutted out his bottom lip, “Just one spoonful––”

You continued to shake your head, “I’m not hungry.”

Mat rolled his eyes and brought the spoon closer to your face. He let out a deep sigh as you recoiled away, “Please.” But you shook your head no. At your adamance of not wanting Mat to feed you, he let out a deep sigh, “If I give you the bowl, will you eat some?”

While you weren’t hungry in the slightest, the thought of food didn’t make your skin crawl as much as it did before when he offered you toast. Wordlessly, you took the bowl from Mat after he set the spoon in it. And to make him happy, you took three sips of the broth he made for you.

With a satisfied smile, Mat took the blanket and spread it on top of the other blankets you were already swamped under. And with a neon blue word search book, Mat climbed over you to get to the other side of the bed. Once he was next to you under the covers, he leaned his back on the headboard as he grabbed a pencil and opened the book.

Your eyebrows were raised high, an amused expression on your face as you let out a single breathy chuckle through your nose. The sound caused Mat to peer up at you and raise his eyebrows at you, “Yeah?”

“Aren’t you afraid of getting sick?”

Mat let out a pft sound, “It can’t be anything worse than what I could get in the locker room.”

Sinking down into the bed, you brought the multiple blankets you were buried under up under your chin, as you laughed so hard it caused your head to hurt. But the joy you felt course through your body almost made you forget about your body aches. And with Mat’s casual dismissal of whatever virus infected your body, he lifted his arm up for you to come right up next to him.

Happily, you rested your head on his warm chest and looped an arm around the front of his stomach the same time his arm curled around your neck. While it was a little difficult for Mat to complete his word searches, he assured you that he had grabbed the advanced copy so he spent more time than he would’ve liked to find the words.

In record time of shutting your eyes, you fell fast asleep without having to stare up at the ceiling to count up to an obscene number.

While you felt like a brand new person a week later, Mat had started to get the chills and a runny nose. And the day after his first symptoms appeared, he kicked the bedsheets off early in the morning––just like you had––and made a mad dash to the bathroom.

And when Mat called out of practice that morning, he said that he had probably caught something from the locker room.

#mat barzal fluff #mat barzal #mathew barzal #nhl imagine #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fanfic #matbarzal blurb #mat barzal oneshot #mat barzal one shot #mat barzal writing #mat barzal x reader #mathew barzal fluff #mathew barzal imagine #mat barzal new york islanders #mathew barzal new york islanders #new york islanders #isles #vibe check?? i hate tags but i fell in love with a barista so it's okay

[charincharge]

I Don't Want To Wait, forty-eight

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

Based on the prompts:

“This wasn’t supposed to happen – this wasn’t – the plan was…”

Seeing someone’s made them their lockscreen

“Take these clothes and make them smell like you again.”

“I’m mad at you because I love you”

“Is that all you’re going to sleep in?” “Yeah, you know this is what I sleep in when it’s this warm.”

“Want to kiss me?” “Not in the slightest.”

Aelin did her best to keep a smile on her face as they drove the short distance from the beach to Aelin’s house, but inside she felt like she was dying a thousand deaths. She kept Rowan’s hand in a vice grip, laced with her fingers, and tried to focus on every detail of his hand instead of the gnawing feeling in her stomach. She turned his hand over in hers and let her thumb trail down each long finger, tapping the pad gently and trailing back down. He shivered as he pulled into her driveway, causing her to smile softly. But it was wiped off her face as he turned to her, concerned, pulling his hand away and resting it on his lap.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and she nodded.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

His side-eye was enough to let her know that he’d clocked her sudden silence in the car, but she didn’t want to fight tonight. She just wanted to be with him. She wanted to pretend that he hadn’t just torn apart the future she’d imagined for them; she wanted to feel him pressed against her and kiss him senseless until all her bad thoughts had emptied out of her head.

“It kind of feels like you’re mad at me?” Rowan prodded, not getting the hint that she just wanted to ignore things and barrel forward. But she was always better at ignoring things than he was. “Is this about the, uh… sex stuff?”

“I’m not,” she said. It wasn’t even a lie – she’d been so distracted by the college news that his new sex parameters had been completely erased from her brain. Plus, it wasn’t even that she was mad. She was confused. Really, really confused. “I’m just hungry.”

At that, a wide smile cracked across Rowan’s face, his green eyes glinting with laughter as he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. She hummed happily at the feel of his soft mouth against hers.

“I should have known,” he chuckled against her skin. Then it was her turn to shiver.

His voice was ever so slightly lower, and she loved the new feel of the vibrations against her cheek. Her eyes widened as he pulled back, giving her some sort of indiscernible look, and then immediately closed as his lips crashed against hers. The kiss took her by surprise as the ferocity melted away into something softer. This kiss was unlike anything she’d experienced before; it was slower, more prolonged, his tongue just barely brushing between her lips to touch hers. An uncontrollable guttural noise escaped her mouth as his hands knotted in her hair, grabbing fistfuls of her salt-dried locks. He reared back quickly, his eyes downcast as he rubbed his hand over his face and groaned a low, painful sound. But he smiled at her again, regardless.

“Who taught you how to kiss like that?” Aelin asked, breathless and eyes glazed over with lust, feeling phantom tingles against her mouth, remembering the kiss in excruciating detail.

Rowan’s cheeks flushed, but she barely noticed, too distracted by the way his new muscles flexed beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt as he ran his hand through his unruly hair.

“I told you the guys at camp were…informative,” he laughed under his breath. His eyes flicked up to hers, nervously, and she couldn’t help but sigh happily. That was the reunion she had imagined. Incredible kisses and sweet smiles and soft blushes.

“We were supposed to eat hours ago,” he laughed. “And you’re going to get even grumpier if you keep looking at me like that because I’m not going to let you out of this car.”

“We can arrange for that,” Aelin laughed, leaning over the console, but Rowan just laughed and grabbed his vibrating phone from his pocket. A long string of text alerts appeared on the screen, garnering Aelin’s curiosity. “Someone’s popular…” she said, wondering who could possibly be texting Rowan that much.

“Camp guys group chat,” he explained, quickly clearing the notifications away with a swipe of his thumb and revealing his lock screen – Aelin’s own face smiling back at her from his hand.

“Am I your lock screen?” she asked, though the answer was quite clear. His lock screen was the picture she’d sent with him to camp – her smiling and posing in her lifeguard uniform. At his shy answering smile, she wanted to launch herself at him again, but he stopped her with a soft kiss. She couldn’t help but pout.

“Food,” Rowan protested weakly.

“Kisses,” Aelin said, leaning forward again. “I need to collect on a thousand of them, remember?” Her lips pressed against his softly over and over, her words escaping between the thousand kisses she meant to collect.

“Babyyy,” he said, pained.

The sound thrilled Aelin and sent a jolt of electricity down her spine. She pulled back, flushed and smiling, their discord pushed to the back of her brain, erased by Rowan’s thorough kisses.

“So, not that I mind… at all,” Aelin said, unbuckling herself and finally getting out of the car. “But, I don’t think you’ve ever called me baby so much before.”

Rowan slung his arm over her shoulder and pulled her tight, and she inhaled his scent that she’d missed so much and exhaled the tension from her shoulders.

“It’s so I don’t confuse you with my other girlfriends,” he said so nonchalantly that Aelin froze and looked up at him. And up a little further. It was going to take some getting used to his new height. His answering smirk was enough to have Aelin pulling herself out of his grasp and punching the side of his arm. “Ow,” he laughed, rubbing at the spot where Aelin had landed her first. “What?” he joked. “If I call you all baby I have less chance of mixing up your names…baby,” he said with a wink.

Though she was a hundred percent certain Rowan was joking, she couldn’t help the small tug of insecurity, reminding her that she wasn’t always his one and only.

She must have made a face because Rowan tugged at her hand and pulled her close again. “I’m kidding, Ace.”

“You’d better be,” she mumbled, opening the front door.

They were greeted by the sight of Rhoe and Lorcan in the kitchen, which barely phased Aelin at this point. Lorcan was sitting at the table, hunched over as he scooped tortilla chips into a large bowl of guacamole, while Rhoe cooked something on the stovetop.

“BABE!” Lorcan bellowed through his mouthful of chips.

Aelin practically rolled her eyes as her hulking friend galloped across the room to embrace her boyfriend. Though she couldn’t help but notice that Rowan was only about an inch or two shorter than Lorcan. Wow, he really had grown. Apparently that was the first thing that Lorcan noticed, too, because his eyes widened as he took in Rowan’s new form, perusing him up and down before smirking soundly and clapping his friend on the back.

“Well, well, well, look who finally grew up,” Lorcan said with a salacious grin. “You fill in that much everywhere?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Salvaterre, don’t be gross,” Rhoe chastised weakly before giving his own hug to Rowan. “Welcome back, kid. We missed you. And it looks like Antica agreed with you,” he said with a smile.

“I guess?” Rowan shrugged, but Lorcan wanted to make sure her boyfriend knew exactly what that meant.

“Babe,” he began, getting Rowan’s attention back. “You got hot. Like, really hot.”

A steady blush crept up the back of Rowan’s neck as he shyly tucked his chin into his chest, his eyes sliding to Aelin for confirmation.

“I don’t know about that,” he mumbled, but Lorcan just let out a snort.

“Well, I do.” He paused and looked at Aelin, concerned. “Come on, Aelin, tell him. He looks like a golden god.”

Aelin frowned at the boy who had become like an annoying older brother to her in the course of the summer, and reached up and covered Rowan’s ears as best as she could, lifting up onto her tiptoes. “Don’t tell him, Lor! It’s much better for all of us if he doesn’t know.”

“I can still hear you,” Rowan laughed, eyes amused as he pulled Aelin’s hands from his ears.

“So, Golden God,” Rhoe said, trying his hardest not to laugh. “Don’t keep us waiting forever. Maeve said you had some very exciting news to share, but she wouldn’t tell us.”

Rowan looked nervously at Aelin and then back at Lorcan and Rhoe as they waited impatiently, and Aelin’s stomach twisted again. She’d been able to push away this information for a little bit, but she knew she’d have to deal with it eventually.

But she stood dutifully beside him, always smiling as he showed them his Wendlyn recruitment letter.

“Wowwwww,” Lorcan said, taking the letter and looking at it closer. “Better get those grades up this semester,” he joked at Aelin, causing her bad mood to return in full force. She was afraid she was going to cry, seeing how happy her dad and Lorcan were for Rowan. She should have been just as happy, but she just couldn’t bring herself to be.

She lifted herself up onto her toes again and pressed her lips to his cheek.

“I’m going to go shower and change. Will you figure out dinner?” she asked softly. She didn’t bother to wait for Rowan’s acceptance of her request to bolt upstairs and shut the door.

Carefully encased in her room, she let her shoulders sag. She felt the weight of the night collapse onto her, her emotions running wild as she finally let herself really truly feel. The strong spray of the shower wasn’t enough to clear away the feelings of upset, but then she was clouded with guilt. She should be happy for Rowan. Everyone else was. It was a fantastic opportunity, what he was being presented with. A full ride to an incredible school.

An incredible school that she had no shot of getting into.

She hadn’t realized how much she’d thought about their future. She’d imagined walking across campus hand-in-hand and sneaking kisses between study sessions in the library, of coming back to her dorm late at night, tipsy on cheap alcohol and endorphins and twisting into a tiny twin bed, legs entangled as they slept together. She imagined going to his games and getting decked out in their college colors and sitting with their group of friends as they cheered wildly for him, for their team to win. She imagined meeting on campus for coffee between classes and coming back home together.

As the water pelted onto her sore muscles, she mourned the loss of her imagined future. She took deep breaths as the images faded away, becoming something horrible, something sinister. She saw Rowan on the Wendlyn campus, surrounded by other girls far smarter and more talented than her, all laughing and trading stories about their exes from high school. A wave of insecurity swept over her, tugging her mood down, down, down, until all her dreams had swirled down the drain with the last droplet of water as she turned off the faucet.

She looked at herself in the mirror, her usually bright eyes looking sullen and angry, and tried to shake it off, but it was too late. She’d let it wash over her. She’d been overtaken.

Her mood only worsened when she realized most of her pajamas were dirty, and she had nothing more than an old dryer shrunken tank top and well-worn shorts to wear. So, now she didn’t even feel cute. She was calling tonight a wash.

Heading downstairs, she was unsurprised to see all the men in her life, huddled around the chips and guac on the table, shoveling food into their mouths and discussing Lorcan’s favorite parts of fire academy. But as Rowan heard her footsteps creaking across the floorboards, he inhaled sharply and began coughing wildly.

“What are you wearing?” Rowan managed to wheeze out as his coughing subsided, and Aelin looked down at her ratty old pajamas with a frown.

“Pajamas?”

“That’s all you’re going to sleep in?” he asked, his eyes slowly trailing down the expanse of her exposed legs.

Aelin crossed her arms over her chest protectively. “You know this is what I sleep in when it’s this warm,” she replied, nonplussed. The pajamas were old, yes, but he didn’t have to make a big deal about it. She didn’t get why he was so hung up on it. Rowan blinked and blinked again, clearing his throat slightly as he looked away.

“With Lorcan here?”

Aelin frowned. “Lorcan’s always here.”

Lorcan snorted loudly. “You weren’t kidding. She is hangry.”

Aelin’s brows furrowed as her eyes narrowed in Lorcan’s direction as she took the empty seat next to Rowan. She sat stiffly beside him, neither of them reaching for each other how they usually would, no hands held or knees caressed or hair tucked behind ears. She felt all weird and prickly and wrong.

“So,” she said turning to him, “Did you figure out dinner, or did you just eat chips?”

Rhoe paused mid-bite, looking between Aelin and Rowan curiously. His brow raised, but Aelin just shook her head slightly.

“I thought we’d go out for pizza, but if you’re already in pajamas, we could order delivery?” Rowan suggested. Aelin just shrugged and took the empty seat next to him.

“And wait an hour for Aelin to be fed?” Lorcan gasped. “That sounds dangerous.”

Aelin frowned. “You think you’re so funny.”

“He’s not funny, he tells the truth, Fireheart,” Rhoe said, pressing a kiss to Aelin’s forehead as he made his way to the kitchen. “Let’s see what we have in the fridge.” She watched as her dad opened and closed all the doors and cabinets, shouting out options to them, each one sounding worse than the last.

“I think, maybe, pizza is the safest,” Aelin said.

“We have stuff for BLTs?” Rhoe called out, and Lorcan lit up at that.

“Oooh, a BLT sounds perfect,” he bellowed back.

Rowan snorted. “Yeah, I bet you’d like to B your L on someone’s T’s,” he mumbled under his breath, causing Lorcan’s eyes to widen in shock.

“Did you just say what I think you said?” he asked, laughter bubbling up in his chest, his dark eyes filled with amusement.

“No,” Rowan replied quickly, his cheeks burning red as his eyes trained down on the table, away from Lorcan’s prying eyes. Aelin looked between the two boys, not understanding what was just said.

“My little boy grew up in more ways than one this summer!” Lorcan said, pretending to wipe a tear away from his cheek. Rowan threw a chip across the table at Lorcan’s face, shaking his head. "Naughty, naughty..."

“Shut up.”

“I don’t get it,” she said, frustrated, but Rowan just shot her down.

“Don’t worry about it.” Aelin stared at him, willing him to break, but he just shook his head and looked down and away from her again as Lorcan smirked.

She wanted to throttle him. It was enough to be rejected sexually and then have him go to college without her, but now for him to be talking about things and not explaining them to her? Inside jokes or whatever, that she was purposefully being excluded from. She felt a burning fury overtake her sadness, replacing her disappointment with a consuming fire, flames raging on the sides of her cheeks as she spat, “Fine,” and stood up from the table and went to go help her dad with their dinner.

There was something comforting about going on autopilot and making sandwiches with her dad. She’d done it so many nights in her life that she could shut her brain off as she reached for the bread, putting it into the toaster and grabbed a tomato and began slicing. Her dad stood beside her, flipping pieces of sizzling bacon.

“So…” he finally said, his voice low and concerned. “Not that I’m not thrilled to see you, but I thought for sure you and Rowan would be… reuniting—” he cleared his throat uncomfortably as his eyes shot down to focus on the meat in the pan in front of him, “—elsewhere, until late tonight.”

“Dad.” Aelin couldn’t bear to have her dad talk about her and Rowan’s lack of reuniting.

His low chuckle was countered by his concerned side glance, his blue eyes prying for more information that Aelin did not want to give.

“I’m just saying, there is a distinct lack of hand-holding and all-around general cuddliness between you two, and I was prepared for much, much worse from the girl who spent every night kissing Rowan’s picture before bed.”

Aelin’s eyes shot to her dad as the toast popped out of the toaster. “You said you’d never bring that up!”

“Fireheart…” Rhoe continued.

But Aelin wasn’t ready to talk yet. “It’s fine. We’re fine.”

“Uh huh,” Rhoe said, pulling the bacon off the pan and laying them on paper towels to de-grease. “Well, if you want to talk, you know where I am.”

“With Lorcan?” she snapped, and immediately felt bad. Her dad had nothing to do with her bad mood. “Sorry,” she apologized quickly. She snatched a warm piece of bacon between her fingers and plopped it into her mouth, letting the salty goodness comfort her. “I really do need some food.”

Luckily, her dad heard her loud and clear and let her stew in her bad mood as she put the sandwiches together while he sliced up some carrots.

Aelin nibbled on her dinner as Rowan and Lorcan wolfed down three sandwiches each.

“I guess you were hungry?” Aelin asked as Rowan brushed a crumb from the corner of his mouth.

“I wasn’t joking when I told you I was hungry all the time,” he laughed, finally resting his hand on her bare knee.

“Hungry and horny,” Lorcan laughed, sending a wink to Rowan across the table. Rowan snatched his hand back from Aelin’s knee, grasping it in his lap, his fingers interlocked as demurely as possible, as Rhoe smacked Lorcan’s shoulder.

“Get out of my house, Salvaterre,” Rhoe said, and though he said it with a joking chuckle, it was clear he was serious. “You’re a terrible influence on my child. I don't need you corrupting Rowan, too.”

“I was jokingggg,” Lorcan insisted, but Rhoe just shook his head. "And I think Rowan has already been corrupted."

The blush that deepened on Rowan's cheeks made Lorcan laugh, but Rhoe merely sighed, telling Lorcan he still needed to leave.

“These two are going to hang out upstairs in Aelin’s room," Rhoe said, "And I am going to catch up on some work.”

“We are?” Aelin asked, suddenly feeling nervous.

“With the door open,” Rhoe warned. “The rules haven’t changed.”

“Except for later curfew,” Aelin reminded him of the conversation they’d had last week, begging to extend her hours until midnight this year. They compromised at 10 on weekdays, but midnight on weekends.

“Except for later curfew,” Rhoe repeated back to her, ignoring the way Lorcan grumbled as he got his things together. “See you in the morning, trainee,” her dad said, sending Lorcan off with a salute.

“Yes, sir,” Lorcan replied automatically. He wrapped his arms around Aelin from behind and whispered in her ear, “Have funnnn,” causing her to elbow him off of her. She didn’t know how she’d ended up with an older brother this summer, but somehow she had. And sometimes he was really annoying.

“So…” Rowan began, standing suddenly. “Upstairs?”

Aelin nodded and watched him grin and sprint up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Aelin took them slower, climbing them one at a time, and she wasn’t surprised to see Rowan already laid out on her bed when she made it to her room. His face was buried into her pillow, inhaling deeply as he groaned, “I missed your smell. Like flowers and lemons.” He rolled onto his back, a big dopey grin on his face, his green eyes lit up with mischief as he asked her, “Do you want to come kiss me?” His hand patted the comforter next to him, but Aelin shook her head.

“Not in the slightest.”

Though she’d tried to make it sound like a joke, it was clear it hadn’t landed. Rowan sat up quickly, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Okay, now I know you’re mad at me.”

And Aelin exploded. She couldn’t bear to keep it all inside for one more second.

“Of COURSE I’m mad!”

“Can you tell me why?” Rowan asked, standing up and coming closer. But Aelin put her hand up to stop him. She couldn’t think if he got too close. And now that she’d cracked, she needed to explain herself. But the emotions were spilling out, pouring over in tidal waves, and she was having a hard time articulating the right answer.

“Because! This wasn’t supposed to happen!” she exclaimed, but Rowan just looked at her like she was crazy.

“What wasn’t supposed to happen?”

“No, that’s not…” she took a deep breath and tried to compose herself. “We had a plan, and the plan wasn’t – fuck!” Then it was her turn to start to pace. Why couldn’t she just string a god damned sentence together.

“What?” he asked, pushing her to tell him more, his eyes probing for more information as his hands came to rest on either one of her cheeks, steadying her with his concerned face. “What?” he asked again, and Aelin shook her head, letting a tear fall down her cheek. She hadn’t even realized she was crying. Rowan’s thumb swiped against her skin softly, moving the wetness away. “Baby, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice nothing more than a whisper. “What did I do?”

She steeled herself, took a deep breath and looked up. “We were supposed to go to college together,” she said, hoping her voice wasn’t shaking as much as it felt.

“I…” Rowan’s hands dropped from her cheeks as his broad shoulders tensed. “You’re mad that I got into college? I thought you’d be proud of me… You know how worried I was, and it’s my shot to actually do something with my life.”

“No…no, no… that’s not…” Aelin took another breath. “I am so proud of you, Ro. Wendlyn is incredible.” She watched as the tension drained from his muscles at her words. “I just thought the plan was to go to college together.”

“It is,” Rowan insisted, but Aelin shook her head.

“I can’t get into Wendlyn,” she finally admitted out loud what had been plaguing her all night. “That’s a top school. And even if I did get in, it’s a private school. I have no idea how I’d afford it. And I certainly can’t get a scholarship to a school like that.”

Rowan looked struck for the first time. As if he hadn’t considered Aelin’s words. As if he’d just assumed that she’d be able to go to the school he got into, no matter how exclusive and elite it was.

“There are so many schools by Wendlyn,” Rowan finally said. “Mistward is filled with them. There’s Doranelle and Varese and Mt. Cambria and College of Rivers. So, you could be nearby, even if you don’t get into Wendlyn.”

“So you admit, you don’t think I can get into Wendlyn,” Aelin said defiantly, and she thought that Rowan’s eyes were going to pop out of his head with frustration as he threw his large arms up into the air and then back down again.

“You just said you didn’t think you could get in!” he said, exasperated. But Aelin could only hear the negatives ringing in her head, unwilling to hear what he was really saying. “Ace,” he said steadily. “We promised, no matter what, we’d make this work. This is no exception. You’re mad at me over nothing.”

“I’m mad at you because I love you,” Aelin said. “Because I want to be with you forever, and the idea of four years apart makes me want to cry.”

“Please don’t cry,” Rowan said, but it was too late. Tears had started falling down Aelin’s cheeks again. “We’re going to be together forever. We are,” Rowan insisted. “No matter what. Forever." Aelin nodded through her sniffles, feeling overwhelmed and a little stupid at her outburst. "Can I kiss it better?” Rowan asked, rubbing his nose against hers.

Aelin sniffed loudly, laughing at the feel of his nose poking at her. “Only if you take your sweatshirts back and make them smell like you again,” Aelin said.

His answering smile was blinding, but it disappeared as quickly as it appeared as he moved his mouth to hers. Ready to kiss it better.

She accepted his kisses readily, letting his arms wrap around her waist and pull her close. He had to duck down to reach her mouth, and she had to tilt her head to the sky, but no matter what, kissing Rowan always felt like a soothing balm on her weary soul. His lips healed her aches and bruises, the cracked edges of her anger and sadness smoothing over with each caress of his tongue against hers. They stood there, kissing until Aelin’s tears dried and a new ache formed in her chest – one of longing and hunger. Her hands played with the ends of his hair, relishing in the sounds that came out of his mouth, tugging him tighter, and refusing to let him go until they were startled by the loud sound of Rhoe’s boot stomping up the stairs.

They parted quickly, wiping at their mouths and faces as Rhoe appeared in the open doorway.

“It’s late,” was all Rhoe said. But Rowan understood.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Rowan asked, and Aelin nodded, the small tendril of sadness sneaking its way back out as he stepped away from her. As if he could sense it, he leaned back in and kissed her again, not caring that Rhoe was standing right there. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” Aelin countered.

“Impossible,” Rowan said, kissing Aelin again until Rhoe was forced to clear his throat loudly.

“She kissed your picture goodnight every night you were gone,” Rhoe said, trying to hide his own smile beneath his hand.

“DAD!” Aelin’s cheeks heated as Rowan’s face lit up.

“Me too,” he said, smiling as he said it. As he was turning to leave, Aelin remembered the bag in her closet and ran to grab it.

“Wait!” she exclaimed, shoving the bag full of hoodies back at him. “You know what to do,” she said, lifting herself up on her toes to kiss him one last time and wrapping his hand around the bag’s handle.

“Goodnight, Rowan,” Rhoe laughed.

Aelin sighed loudly and collapsed onto her bed as Rowan made his way downstairs, and she couldn’t help but smile as her phone lit up with a text from her boyfriend before he even pulled out of her driveway.

Forever, Ace. We’ll figure it out.

The bed dipped beside her as Rhoe sat and turned toward her, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Want to tell me what that was all about?”

“No?”

But Rhoe wasn’t letting her off the hook anymore. He’d endured the weirdness downstairs, and then she was sure he heard them shouting. She was sure he was dying to know what was going on between them, especially since they parted with kind kisses and flushed faces.

Aelin groaned as she fell back onto her pillow, but she couldn’t help but smile as she smelled faint traces of Rowan’s bodywash there. Yeah. She’d missed that scent, too.

“Fireheart?” her dad asked, poking at her side.

“It’s nothing,” Aelin said, propping herself up onto her elbows.

“It didn’t sound like nothing,” Rhoe replied, raising an eyebrow. Fuck. Aelin knew he’d heard the shouting from downstairs. She’d hoped the television would drown them out, but of course it hadn’t.

“Rowan is going to Wendlyn.”

“I know,” Rhoe said. “Pretty awesome, right?”

“Yeah,” Aelin sighed. “Awesome.”

“Or, not awesome?” he prodded. Aelin collapsed back to the bed, staring at the ceiling as she unloaded onto her dad.

“Awesome for him, for sure. Not so awesome for me, who definitely can’t get into that school.”

“Says who?” Rhoe asked.

Aelin chuckled without humor. “Um, everyone? We’ve had two valedictorians get rejected from there. Somehow I don’t think little old me with my A’s and B’s is going.”

“Hmm,” was all Rhoe said.

And nothing else.

Aelin couldn’t stand it. She sat back up and looked at her dad, who was staring at her thoughtfully. “What?” she asked.

He shrugged and shook his head, rubbing his hand against his beard which desperately needed to be shaved.

“I just didn’t expect you to be such a defeatist,” Rhoe said. “I thought you were a fighter, who liked a challenge.”

“There’s a difference between liking a challenge and being delusional, dad,” Aelin said with a scoff, but his sentiment prickled at her skin.

“I don’t know about that, Fireheart.” He paused. “I don’t think it’s delusional to try. What happened to the girl who refused to go to sleep until she learned the top hundred most difficult words to spell?”

“She was ten, and she didn’t even make it past the first round of the spelling bee because she forgot tomorrow has only one ‘m’ in it.”

That brought a wide smile to her dad’s face. “Yeah, but you were so driven. Still are.” He laughed. “You’ve always been an overachiever. Weren’t you the only junior in a senior math class last year?”

“Yes…” Aelin admitted. She was good at math. She always had been. This year she’d be taking an Advanced Placement calculus class, and she didn’t know who else would even be in it.

“The only thing you’ve ever wanted I’ve seen you not go for… is Rowan.”

That made Aelin pause. It was true. She usually had no problem shooting for the moon, but when it came to Rowan, she suddenly questioned everything about herself. She thought she’d outgrown that insecurity, but at the mention of his college admission, it came rushing back to her. Could she actively squash that insecurity? She didn’t know.

“So,” Rhoe continued, “what would you need to do to be a competitive applicant to Wendlyn?” he asked.

“Seriously?” Aelin couldn’t believe what she was hearing, but her dad nodded. “Okay, well… I’d probably have to make my course load way harder, to weight my GPA. And I’d need to get A’s in all of them. And I don’t even know if it’s too late to do that.”

The edge of Rhoe’s lips curled into a small smile. “Okay, well, let’s say it’s not, and you do that. What else?”

“I’d need a direction. Something to make me stand out. An extracurricular or volunteer work or a job, or all three that all tied together somehow.”

“Last I heard, Petrah was begging you to come back and take more classes. Think she might have a job for you, too?” he asked, and suddenly Aelin’s mind was reeling with possibilities. She wanted to temper her excitement, though. She couldn’t just assume she could make this happen.

“Lots of kids dance, dad,” she said.

“Maybe,” he admitted. “But I doubt many of them learned all of Clara’s choreography in sixth grade just in case the understudy and Clara were both sick.” That made Aelin laughed. She remembered practicing the twirls in the studio, following along the choreography until she knew it just as well as her snowflake dance. “You miss a hundred percent of the shots you don’t take,” Rhoe finally said.

“That was cheesy, Dad.”

But she was smiling. He was right. Maybe it wasn’t likely that she’d get into Wendlyn. Hell, it was the longest shot she could possibly imagine. But she had to try. Not just for Rowan, but for her, too.

“Alright, what else?” Rhoe asked, and Aelin got out her journal, ready to make a list of everything she needed to do to try and hold onto her dream. She wasn’t willing to let it slip away. Not yet.

~*~

#idwtw au #rowaelin #rowan x aelin #charincharge writes #tog fanfic #throne of glass fic #i'm not nearly as angsty as you thin #there will be dramz #but come on #i'm me #LOVE YOU ALLLLLLL #review #reblog #inbox me #i wanna hear thoughts and thoris #theories

[holden-caulfield]

hii I wanted to request a draco x female reader where reader’s sitting in a tree and reading a book, and draco comes behind her and scares her but she falls down from the tree and breaks her leg? and then he gets concerned and worried and all that? thank you!❤️

we love a concerned and protective draco😌

Sense Of Guilt

↪︎ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

SUMMARY: draco makes the reader fall from a tree and can't help but feel guilty.

WARNINGS: injuries but no blood or anything too graphic.

WORD COUNT: 1042

You were waiting for him after classes. You had a free period and decided the best way to spend it would have been reading.

So you picked your favourite book and went to your favourite reading place. It was an old oak tree, nothing special really; what made it really unique was a little sitting space on top of it, in between the branches, which made it a perfect private spot for someone who wanted to have some time alone.

You also met your boyfriend there, Draco Malfoy. He found you in your little safe haven, approached you and the rest is history, as they say.

You sat there, secluded by the green leaves, and began reading. It was peaceful, all the voices of the scattered students enjoying the spring sun disappeared as you lost yourself between words and commas, plunging deeper and deeper into an ocean of ink and smell of old parchment.

But the quiet peace was abruptly broken. The calmness you had reached had made you totally forget about the outside world but a voice and a sudden light push brought you back instantly.

Too quickly for you didn't have time to think or to act and fell on the ground beneath you.

The fall wasn't too high, but misfortune hit you, just like the ground did, and you fell on your foot, on your ankle to be exact.

It made a cracking noise; not a good omen. You tried getting up and you fell as soon as you tried putting your weight on that same foot; another bad omen.

It was broken.

"Merlin, y/n, are you ok?!" asked Draco, running from behind the tree, where he was hidden, to your side, worry lacing his voice and making it sound slightly higher.

He crouched down where you were sat, in your hand was the book you had been reading so peacefully just moments ago. He placed a hand on your ankle and you let out a small shriek, trying to contain yourself.

He immediately removed his hand, focusing his gaze on your own eyes. You could see the concern mixing with guilt in his grey irises, creating what seemed like a devastatingly gloomy storm in his eyes.

You softened your expression, desperately trying not to think about the excruciating pain that pervaded your foot at the moment, and took Draco's hand in your own.

"I'm fine, just a scratch." you stated, trying to convince yourself more than him because judging from his own face, he knew damn well that that was everything but 'just a scratch'.

He was still frozen on the spot, mentally cursing himself for having let that happen, having let you get hurt, having hurt you.

"Really, it's nothing, see?" you moved to stand up but he prevented you from doing just that, placing a strong hand on you shoulder.

He seemed to realize his actions and immediately released his grip, leaving your arm, almost scared.

"Y/n, i'm sorry. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that. I don't even know why i did that, it was irresponsible and-" you stopped him from going any further with your fingers grazing his porcelain skin.

"I'm okay, Draco, really." you weren't lying this time, the pain took the second place as concern for your boyfriend took over you.

He seemed to be calming down when a single, pearly tear crossed your cheek. You couldn't stop it, it was involuntary, and you quickly dried it with the back of your hand but Draco noticed. And his heart got even heavier.

"Can i, y/n?" his hand hovered over your waist and you simply nodded."

"What are you- oh!" he snaked his arms as gently as he could around your back and legs, hoisting you up and carrying you towards the castle. "What are you doing?!"

"Taking you to Madame Pomfrey, that's the least i can do." you giggled but he was serious, you had never seen him like that; he looked as if he had just had a very close encounter with a dementor. And he hadn't won.

"There's no need for that, Draco!" but he ignored you, you could almost see the thousands of thoughts that navigated his mind, probably blaming himself for everything. "Let me down, come on! I'm sure i can walk!"

"No, you can't. And that's my fault, but i'm fixing it. It won't happen again." his eyes were set on the road ahead and you could feel your heart break at his sorrowful expression.

"Listen to me, Draco." you grasped his chin, forcing him to look at you, something he had been keen on avoiding since he had picked you up. "It is not your fault."

"Yes it is, i pushed you." you couldn't argue with that, but that was not the point.

"But you shouldn't hold yourself accountable for that, accidents happen."

"Not to you, they shouldn't." you smiled at his innocence; you couldn't believe a boy like him could say things like these but here he was.

"They happen to everyone."

"I'm the one that caused it, i hurt you, y/n." you could see his eyes glistening under your gaze and yours were close to doing the same, but you refrained yourself, not wanting to alarm him even further.

"You did not hurt me, i fell and i hurt myself, it happens, ok?" you continued, stroking his cheek with your thumb now.

"I hurt you, y/n. I hurt you."

"Fine, you hurt me. Guess what? I still love you and you'll have to take care of me until my leg heals, that means staying with me in the hospital wing for however long Madame Pomfrey says. That seems like a punishment alright, doesn't it?" you said smiling brightly.

He chuckled curtly with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes.

"Hey, all okay?" he nodded faintly and you leaned in, taking his lips in yours, conveying all the reassurances he needed into one kiss. "Remember when i almost broke your nose while opening the door? You said it wasn't my fault!"

"Because it wasn't." he whispered, still searching your lips.

"Well, it's the same now."

"It isn't-"

"It is. Now shut up and bring me to the hospital wing, my love."

//

taglist - @turn-to-page-394-please @gwlvr @dracosaccount @astoria-malfcy @dracomalfoys-wh0re @eunoniaa @cherie-draco @oeuryale @wh0re4blaise @90smalfoy @sanctimoniousslytherpuff @maybesandohnos @dracoswhore007 @paulina1998 @bungunz @malfoysbiitch @dreamy-clousds @malfoyxxdraco23 @saayanaaa @xlauren-malfoyx @riddleswh0r3crux @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts @elevatorsdoor @dracoscene @beforeoursunsets @bby-gxrnet @desiredmalfoy @marrymetheonott

[if your name is crossed out, check your privacy settings!]

#draco malfoy #fanfiction #harry potter #fanfic #draco lucius malfoy #draco x reader #draco imagine #draco x y/n #draco malfoy fluff #fluff #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n

[no-pucks-given]

TYSON JOST | LIGHT MY WAY HOME

A/N: More than 12.000 words later, more than a month after the initial request from Taylor popped up in my notifications. What a freaking ride. My longest fic I've ever written, and maybe even my favourite one. Thank you, to everyone who hyped me up, send me inspo and send me sweet asks. I couldn't have done this without all of you. Special thanks to @dumb-and-dunner, @chicagoblackhawkslover96, @heybarzy and Chrissy (who doesn't have Tumblr unfortunately).

Warnings: Angst, ‘can I strangle him yet?’ Tyson, swearwords, some major character development and (how could I not?!) a happy ending.

Also: Gabe and Melissa Landeskog play a big part in this fic, so if you aren't comfortable with them, you might want to skip this one.

Word Count: 12.1K

Requested: Yes.

The NHL lifestyle, or the ‘popular’ lifestyle was attractive to all young, hormonal boys. You’d known that for a long time. You stood by Tyson’s side when he got drafted into the wicked world of the NHL. Parties, drinking, sex, training until you can barely move, fights, games, wins and losses. It all had it’s charms, but it also had its dangers. Just like any other guy Tyson wanted to experience it all, the whole package,

You assumed you fell under that ‘whole package’, you were his girlfriend for a reason, right? And you did, for a while. You partied together, came home together, did everything together. But the moment Tyson became older and ‘known’ outside the regular hockey fans, that title didn’t mean much anymore. He became more and more the type of guy you didn’t fall in love with, the type to take you for granted, the type to enjoy the attention of other people, other women in particular. You weren’t the jealous type, you didn’t want to claw out the eyes of every woman that looked at him, but you were at a breaking point. Maybe you were jealous, you weren’t jealous of those other women, you were jealous of the attention Tyson gave them. Attention he should’ve been giving to you, his freaking girlfriend.

You were however the loyal type, the type to come home after a long night. And that’s exactly where things went wrong with Tyson. While you were waiting for him at home with a meal, a warm bed or just simply anything else, he was out. You had no idea where he was exactly, he was simply ‘out’, whatever that might mean. You tried to talk to him, you tried to make him see that this wouldn’t end well for either of you, but he simply waved off your concerns, shrugged his shoulders and moved on.

How do you talk to someone who rediscovered himself? How do you talk to someone who thinks he’s on top of the world? How do you save someone from the downfall of success when they don’t want to be saved? You knew one day he’ll come down from this high, one day he’ll realize that he screwed up. One day he’ll come to the conclusion he let something special slip through his fingers, and for what? Fame? Drinks? A rush of adrenaline? One day. But you knew that it wouldn’t be today.

However today is the day that you’re done. Absolutely fed up with all the bullshit excuses Tyson has been feeding you, all the coming home late or not even coming home at all. You have no idea what he’s been up to these last months, he’s barely home. Even when he’s home it’s like he isn’t really there. You can’t even remember the last time the two of you slept together or the last time you actually went to bed at the same time. Breakfast together? A lifetime ago. A lazy day together? Can’t remember. Date night? Months, months ago. Even thinking about it pisses you off to no end, the pain and hurt slowly making place for a new emotion: anger.

It’s frustrating to say the least. You love and take care of him like he means the world to you, and he does. Tyson on the other hand seems to take you for granted, or forgets you’re here at all. It seems like you’re talking to a brick wall instead of your boyfriend. No matter how hard you try, your words have no impact, your tears don’t make him feel anything. It’s like he’s a totally different person. You barely recognize him anymore these days, he feels like a stranger inside the body of the man you love. It feels like you’re both living your life, besides each other instead of with each other. It hurts, that’s for sure.

Like any other day you’ve prepared dinner, put it on the table and sat down on one of the chairs. All you can do now is wait, wait and pray he’ll show up this time. You even texted him, begged him to come home and simply eat dinner with you for a change. Of course you didn’t get a response, of course it’s complete radio silence from his side. God, you were desperate at this point, you don’t even try to deny it.

With every passing minute your hope disappears little by little. You stare at the food on the table until it’s completely dark outside, no sign of Tyson. Hours passed and you barely noticed it, it isn’t until you try to stand up and your muscles ache from sitting in the same position for a long time that you realize how much time actually has passed. “Fuck this, why am I even trying anymore?” you mutter to yourself, shaking your head. This isn’t worth it, it hasn’t been for a long time. Maybe, just maybe you’re finally ready to admit it to yourself.

Deciding to choose yourself over Tyson is a major decision, one you probably should’ve made sooner. It doesn’t matter, what does matter is that you’re choosing you now. You make the split second decision to just grab your stuff, just the necessary stuff. You remember Gabe’s offer, at the time you waved it off with a smile, pretending it wasn’t as bad as it might look to the outside world, but now? You want nothing more than to take him up on his offer. So what’s stopping you?

Even though you were excruciating calm this whole time, the moment you step into your bedroom, or Tyson’s bedroom, you break. This is real, this is really happening. You grab your bags, filling them with some of your stuff. Some clothes, some toiletries, your makeup, everything you might need. It’s a tough job, it’s even harder when you almost can’t see past the tears. At some point you lose track of things you did and didn’t grab, just shoving random items into your bag.

You let out a frustrated sigh, your body sinking down on the floor. In your hands the box containing all your high school love letters, all the small gifts you made each other. Tyson was quite handy, who would’ve thought that? You smile at the memories, sorting through the box. You frown at the feeling surging through your body, is this how heartbreak feels? Looking down at the contents of the box you sigh, wiping away the tears streaming down your face. Why couldn’t life be as simple as it used to be? It shouldn’t be this hard, right? You grab your prom picture between your fingers, smiling sadly at the two people in the picture, both smiling like they just won the lottery, both utterly in love with the other. How time can change..

You throw the box on the bed, maybe it will remind Tyson what the two of you had was special, maybe he’ll realize what he’s about to lose. If it doesn’t, well, it’s his loss. Hauling your bags downstairs is a full workout, you intended to bring ‘just the essentials’ but you have way more important stuff than you originally thought. You aren’t planning on returning to this house any time soon.

Shutting the car door after you loaded in your stuff gives you some form of relief. You let out the breath you’ve been holding in. You made your decision, it’s time to follow through now. You make your way back inside, and into the kitchen. Cleaning up all leftovers from dinner, which obviously is a lot more than you expected. Although.. did you really think he would show up? You shake your head again, putting the leftovers into the fridge. After you finish the dishes you retreat back to the living room, falling down on the couch with a loud sigh. All you can do now is wait.

You could’ve just left and never look back, but that isn’t your style. If you’re going to leave, you’ll do it the right way. You won’t leave without giving him a piece of mind, letting him know he fucked this up for good. You try to focus on the movie playing on the screen, but your heart keeps beating harder and harder, at this point you wish you would’ve just left instead of waiting for Tyson to show up. God, why did you have to do it the right way? Because you know, deep down, you would’ve wanted him to do it the same way. It’s the humane thing to do, it’s only right after spending such a long time together.

The front door opening brings you out of your thoughts. Honestly you don’t even know what time it is, but frankly you don’t care. All you want right now is to get this off your chest and leave. Tyson’s eyes widen when he comes face-to-face with you, surprisingly he doesn’t seem that intoxicated. You suspected he went out, but at this point he could’ve been anywhere.

“You’re still up,” Tyson says, walking past you and flopping down on the couch.

“Yep, and you missed dinner,” you counter, crossing your arms. Tyson simply shrugs his shoulder, clearly not caring enough to explain his absence. “I texted you to make sure you would be here,” you say, even though you know it doesn’t make a difference.

“Yeah, I was busy,” Tyson answers, looking down at his phone.

You almost feel the need to chuckle, to start laughing at his stupid behavior, but this is anything but funny to you, it fucking hurts. “I’m done, Tyson. I’m fucking done,” you say, shaking your head, trying so hard to keep the tears away.

Tyson looks at you with dull eyes, no emotion visible on his face. “Then go to fucking bed, I really can’t deal with your problems right now,” he sighs, turning his head back to the phone in his hand.

Right now, at this moment you know you made the right decision. This isn’t behavior of someone who’s in love, this isn’t even behavior of someone who loves. “You don’t have to deal with me anymore, because I’m leaving. I’m done, we’re done,” you tell him, emphasizing the last part. Tyson’s eyes shoot to yours, the panic clearly written all over his face now.

“No, we’re not. You can’t break up with me, y/n!” he almost shouts at you, standing up from the couch.

“Yes, I can and I will. You don’t get to act like you care all of the sudden, Tyson. You haven’t acted like a boyfriend in months. You haven’t given me any reason to stay, so I won’t. I’m done with whatever this is,” you say, waving between the two of you. Tyson grabs your wrist, tears starting to pool in his eyes. He opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off. “No. No. You don’t get to do this. It’s over. You put on quite a show, but I can’t say it was very entertaining. This curtain fucking closes right now, show is over. You can act like you care, but I know by now that you don’t,” you tell him, ripping your arm out of his grip.

You walk over to the front door, keeping your head high. Now is not the time to break down, your time will come. You hear Tyson behind you, muttering how sorry he is, excuse after excuse leave his mouth. You open the door, turning around one last time to look at Tyson. “Don’t tell me you’re sorry, ‘cause you’re not,” you say while shaking your head. You close the door behind you, not looking back at what you’ve left behind, only looking forward to what’s yet to come.

It’s when you’re in your car mindlessly driving around when you realize you have nowhere to go. You forgot to call Gabe, and it’s probably way too late now. You quickly check the time, 2am, shit that’s late. You doubt he’s still awake, you feel bad for even thinking about waking him up. Two young children, both of them under the age of 2, and being a professional hockey player probably cost him enough energy already, you don’t need to add to that. “He did say I could always call him when I made my decision,” you say out loud, more to convince yourself that it’s okay than anything else.

You easily find Gabe’s contact, immediately pressing the dial button before you change your mind again. The line only rings twice before Gabe picks up. “I’m guessing you either finally broke up with him or there’s a fire somewhere,” Gabe says from the other side of the line. You chuckle, shaking your head. “And since you’re calling me and not the fire department, my guess is on the first one,” Gabe continues, trying to make you smile some more.

“I did it, I broke up with him, couldn’t stand to be there any second longer,” you sigh, brushing your fingers through your hair.

You hear Gabe’s sigh of relief. “I’m proud of you, y/n. I know this isn’t what you had in mind, but it’s better like this, I promise.”

Gabe turned into one of your best friends over time, Melissa is the older sister you never had and you love their children like they’re your own. Gabe and Melissa welcomed you into their family immediately after meeting you. You hadn’t expected to make friends and you definitely didn’t expect to make friends with the captain and his wife, but you’re so grateful you did. The support you receive from them is overwhelming, you couldn’t wish for better friends. So when Gabe first made you this offer, you were thankful he did, although you were still convinced at that point that Tyson would change.

“Uhm, you know.. that offer you made me? Is that still on the table?” you ask, praying he’ll say ‘yes’, praying you don’t have to sleep in some random hotel tonight.

“Of course, the guestroom is already prepared. Melissa expects you to be here as soon as possible, apparently she ‘really needs to cuddle her little sister’,” Gabe chuckles, you can almost hear him rolling his eyes at his wife.

“Thank you, Gabe. I owe you,” you say softly.

“You don’t. You’re family, y/n,” Gabe says, and you know he means every word he just said. Family. “Now get your ass over here, before Melissa starts a search party,” Gabe chuckles, making you laugh some more, because you know she would. You quickly say your goodbyes, promising you’ll be there in a few minutes. It’s just a short drive from your apartment, or Tyson’s apartment now, to Gabe and Mel’s place.

You kept up your appearance, keeping the tears at bay, but the moment you step out of your car and into Gabe’s arms you’re done. “Come here, I’m so sorry,” Gabe says softly, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back.

You stand there for a few minutes, simply crying on your best friend’s shoulder, until Melissa squeezes herself between the two of you. “Hush, I need some sister time. Why don’t you grab her stuff?” she says, smiling sweetly at her husband.

Gabe sighs dramatically, sending a wink your way. “Whatever you say, wife.”

Melissa pulls you close to her, an arm around your waist, her head resting on your shoulder. “Come on, I’ll show you your room,” she softly says, leading you into the house. You’ve been here so many times already, but never like this. You’ve never been in a situation like this before, you’re not sure how to handle this. “I can hear the wheels turning in your head. It will be okay,” Melissa says, rubbing your arm soothingly. You sigh, shrugging your shoulders, not sure what to say.

Melissa leads you to your room, pushing you down on the bed, while she takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “I know you’re probably exhausted, but do you want to talk?” Melissa asks softly, her face showing nothing but compassion.

You lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about all that has happened. “I don’t even know what to say, Mel. I don’t even know how I feel right now. I’m just so...” you trail off, not knowing the right words to describe everything that you feel and think right now.

“Confused, relieved, mad?”

You sit back up, looking back at Melissa. “All of the above, I guess? It hurts, but I’m glad I did it. But I also regret it, because I love him, you know? I’m mad he didn’t try harder for me, for us,” you say, trying hard to keep the rush of tears away.

Melissa wraps her arms around you, pulling you close to her. “I know, sweetheart. It will take time, but you’re going to be okay.”

You sigh, knowing she’s right, even though it probably will take more time than just ‘some time’. You did just end a long relationship, it will take a lot of patience and time to work through that. “Thank you, Mel. For letting me stay here,” you mumble against Melissa’s shoulder.

“No need for that. You’re my sister, remember?” Melissa smiles at you.

Gabe softly knocks on the door before opening the door. “Brought your bags, thought you might need them before you go to sleep,” he says, smiling at the sight before him. Your friendship might be unconventional, but he couldn’t care less what other people think about it. Gabe absolutely adores the sister bond you and Mel share, he hoped the two of you would get along, so this? Picture perfect.

“Thanks, Gabe,” you smile at him.

“Do you mind if I steal my wife from you?” Gabe asks, making you and Melissa laugh out loud.

“Nope, she’s all yours,” you chuckle, waving at their retreating backs when they walk out of the room.

You strip out of your clothes, pulling on a sweater. You sigh, realizing you packed some of Tyson’s sweaters out of habit. His smell infiltrates your senses, making it damn hard to keep your emotions under control. It’s right this moment you know exactly how you feel. Heartbroken. The realization that your relationship with Tyson is really over doesn’t give you the satisfaction you hoped for, it doesn’t give you peace, it just fucking hurts. You simply feel hollow, even though deep down you know this was the right choice, this was what needed to happen. You know damn well why you feel so empty, you gave your heart to Tyson a long, long time ago, never expecting to be in a situation you might get it back. You don’t want it back, but you might need it back.

You realize it’s morning when the light softly shines into your room. You sigh, knowing damn well you’re lucky if you slept more than an hour this night. Rolling over you look at the clock on the wall, 9 am, perfect. Deciding it won’t do you any good if you stay in bed any longer, you force yourself out of bed and into the shower. The hot water warms your cold skin, soothing your sore muscles. All the twisting and turning you did all night surely didn’t help the way you feel right now. Why couldn’t life be a bit easier by simply letting the shower wash away all of your hurt, all of your pain? A fresh start, a clean slate.

You slip on some skinny jeans and a soft sweater, not in the mood to even think about doing your makeup. You dry your hair, before making a quick ponytail out of it. You walk down stairs, the chatter and laughter greeting you as soon as you walk into the kitchen. “Morning, guys,” you say, smiling at all the happy faces before you. A round of greetings sound throughout the room.

“How’d you sleep?” Gabe asks you as soon as you sit down next to him with a bowl of cereal.

“Can’t even tell you, suddenly it was 9 am,” you chuckle, shrugging your shoulders at Gabe’s raised eyebrow. “Do you have any idea where my phone is?” you ask Gabe, knowing he grabbed all your stuff out of your car.

“Uhh, I do, but I don’t know if you really want to look at it,” Gabe says, scratching the back of his head before pointing towards the kitchen counter. It’s your turn to raise your eyebrows, walking over to where Gabe’s pointing at.

You unlock your phone, quickly checking your notifications. “Oh damn,” you mutter, looking at the absurd amount of missed calls and messages left by none other than Tyson himself.

You sit back down next to Gabe, dropping your head on your arms. “What do I do now, Gabe?” you groan. “Why does he care all of the sudden?”

Gabe rubs his hand over your back before answering your question. “Because he lost you, y/n. He never thought he would.” You turn your head towards Gabe letting his words sink in.

Gabe gets ready to leave for practice shortly after you settle on the couch with Lucas in your arms. The little man has a fascination with your hair, maybe it’s all babies who have that, but you like to think that you’re special. “Don’t pull out all y/n’s hair, baby boy,” Gabe chuckles, giving his boy a soft kiss on his head. He gives you a kiss on your cheek, softly squeezing your shoulder. You open your mouth to say something, but Gabe cuts you off. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t worry about it, I’m his captain, but I’m your friend, okay? Just relax, make sure Lucas doesn’t puke on you and go do whatever it is that you women do all day,” Gabe chuckles, knowing you better than you know yourself. You mouth a quick ‘thank you’ to him, wishing him good luck with practice before he runs through the house trying to find his girls to kiss them goodbye.

“Your daddy is a good guy, you know that, Lucas?” you smile at the baby on your lap. Lucas coos, his hands grabbing onto the strands of your hair. “Your daddy and mommy make me feel so loved, even though their children like to see me in pain,” you joke, trying to free your hair from Lucas’s small hands. “Buddy, you’re way stronger than you look,” you mumble, when Lucas pulls on your hair again.

Melissa laughs out loud the moment she walks into the living room. “How many times did I tell you that you need to keep your hair away from him and his grabby hands?” she says, expertly freeing your hair from her son’s fists.

“Apparently not enough times,” you chuckle at her. Melissa joins you on the couch, while Linnea Rae plays on the ground with some of her toys, happily showing you what she got every now and then. It’s times like this that you’re extra grateful for Melissa and Gabe, the way they welcomed you into their family has been nothing but perfect.

“So, what’s going through that pretty head of yours?” Melissa asks, while scrolling through series to watch on Netflix.

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know, I’m kind of worried about practice, I think? I don’t want to put Gabe in this position,” you say, keeping your eyes on Lucas.

“You know Gabe would do anything for you, huh? You don’t know how many times he came home utterly frustrated by the way Tyson treated you. He never said anything, because you were still with him, I can’t promise you he will stay quiet this time,” Melissa says, squeezing your shoulder. “He’ll be fine, this isn’t Gabe’s first rodeo.”

You look at Melissa, who simply gives you a wink. “I know, I know. I just don’t want him to get in trouble or anything,” you say, smiling back at her. You trust and know Gabe, so hopefully there won’t be a lot of trouble today.

“If he does though, he probably deserves it.”

Gabe surprises you all with some takeaway when he gets home from practice. It’s been nice eating with other people for change, it’s been way too long. The amount of lonely dinners has been through the roof lately. Gabe nudges you with his elbow, causing you to look up at him. “No frowning at the table.”

Melissa rolls her eyes at her husband while you just stick out your tongue at him. “Sure, dad,” you say, causing Melissa to almost choke on her bite of food before she lets out a loud laugh.

“Yeah, dad. Leave us alone,” Melissa laughs, winking at her husband. Gabe shakes his head at you and Melissa, a grin plastered on his face.

It’s during dessert you find the courage to ask about Tyson. You weren’t sure if you needed to ask Gabe, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to know anything, but now you know you do. “So, did anything happen during practice?” you ask him, playing around with your spoon.

Gabe shakes his head, giving you a small smile. “Not much, just some chirping. Told him I’m his captain and he needs to fucking focus on practice. That seemed to do the trick,” Gabe says, shrugging his shoulders, continuing to eat his dessert.

You look across the table at Melissa who has the same expression on her face as you. Not convincing at all. ‘Sure,’ Melissa mouths at you from across the table. You shake your head at her, furrowing your eyebrows at Gabe’s statement. ‘Nope,’ you mouth back at her, finishing your dessert. You decide to let it go, you don’t even know why you care so much. You shouldn’t, right? You broke things off with Tyson, so why do you care so much what he does and thinks? The answer to that question is pretty simple the longer you think about it. Because you still love him, that’s why.

You thank everyone for dinner and dessert, promising to cook something from them later this week. Right now all you can think about is your bed and a decent night of sleep. God, that sounds like a true dream right now. You strip out of your clothes, crawling into the soft and cozy bed. It doesn’t take long before you fall asleep, showing just how exhausted you truly are.

The weeks that follow are filled with all kinds of activities, the 5 of you falling back into a comfortable rhythm, surprising you considering the situation you’re in. It isn’t every day you take in the ex-girlfriend of one of your teammates, or your best friend, whatever way you want to see things. When you aren’t working you spend a lot of time with the kids, trying to make things easier for Melissa and Gabe whenever they are busy or simply need some time for the two of them. You happily take on some of their care, even if it’s as simple as making sure they get their food in time. Honestly they are two of the sweetest children you’ve ever come across, they always find ways to make you laugh, even though most of the time it isn’t on purpose.

It’s been quiet around the house tonight, Melissa went out with a few of her friends, while she left Gabe and the kids with you. Apparently she needed some ‘alone time’ which didn’t include kids, and definitely didn’t include Gabe after he mentioned he wanted some ‘alone time’ with her as well. You love their friendly bickering, the love they have for each other visible in everything they do. So when Melissa gave her husband a dirty look and flipped him the bird the only logical thing to do was to start laughing at their exchange. “Have fun with them, sweetheart!” Melissa had yelled at you when she walked through the door, leaving the four of you behind.

Together you decide to just have a movie night. It’s late enough for both children to be asleep already, yet early enough to squeeze in a full size movie marathon. “Gladiatorrrrr!” Gabe exclaims excitedly while scrolling through the movie selection on Netflix, pausing on his all-time favorite movie.

You groan, covering your face with your hands. “Please no, have mercy, Gabe,” you laugh, knowing damn well you’re going to sit through this movie again. How many times has it been already? 12? You wouldn’t even be surprised. This dude really loves his movie. You look at Gabe from between your fingers, seeing the look on his face which makes you groan even more. “Fineeee, one more time, Gabe. One more time,” you whine at him, secretly enjoying his taste in movies, something you don’t plan on telling him ever.

It’s a little after 10pm when the doorbell rings. You look at Gabe, who looks just as surprised as you are. “It’s a bit early for Mel, don’t you think?” Gabe asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Definitely, unless she drank the whole bottle of champagne again,” you chuckle, thinking back at one of the craziest parties you’ve ever been to with Mel and Gabe.

“Oh God, please don’t remind me of that,” Gabe shudders at the memory of that night, standing up to see who’s on the other side of the door.

Gabe hates to say that he isn’t surprised to see Tyson’s face as soon as he opens the door. Honestly he had expected him at his door days, maybe even weeks ago. The moment Tyson found out you were staying with Gabe he broke, Gabe expected him to fight, to yell, to scream, he expected him to do anything except cry. Which is exactly what Tyson did, breaking down in the middle of practice. For a moment the whole place went quiet, only Tyson’s cries echoing throughout the building. No one knew how to act, no one knew what to do, until Gabe realized he’s the captain for a reason. On and off the ice. It was a weird experience, one Gabe still feels extremely conflicted about. He comforted his teammate, his friend, while his other friend was at his home, utterly heartbroken, trying to get over the guy who was bawling his eyes out on the ice.

After Tyson got over the initial shock the anger took over, just as Gabe expected. It made him almost drop the gloves, something he tried to avoid, not wanting to hurt Tyson. He let him say his things, things that absolutely didn’t make any sense, until he got everything out of his system. “Now can we continue this fucking practice, Jost?” Gabe told him after everything calmed down. Gabe tried to avoid the Tyson/y/n topic as much as possible after that, not wanting to get in the middle of things more than he already was. Until tonight apparently.

Gabe raises an eyebrow at the boy before him. “Why are you here, Tyson?” Gabe sighs, already knowing the answer to that question.

Tyson looks around, eyes flickering from left to right, clearly uncomfortable being here. “I, uh, can I talk to y/n? I know she’s here,” Tyson asks, scratching the back of his head before putting them back in his pockets.

Gabe shakes his head at him. “You can’t, if she wants to talk to you she will find a way to contact you. As long as you don’t get your shit together and prove to me, but most of all to her, that you’ve changed, I won’t let you anywhere near her,” Gabe declares, starting to get annoyed with the way Tyson acts. There’s no way he lets him close to you until you feel like you’re ready to see him again, no way.

Tyson opens his mouth, but Gabe gives him a look that immediately shuts him up again. “I’m saying this as your captain, and definitely not as your friend right now. Go home and leave her the fuck alone. You had your chance, you fucked up and now you have to deal with the consequences. How you deal with those said consequences is up to you, but I suggest you leave now and think about everything you did and didn’t do, okay?” Tyson nods his head, turning around to walk back to his car.

When he’s a few steps away from his car he turns around, smiling sadly at Gabe. “She’s my home, Gabe. Home doesn’t feel the same without her. You out of all people should understand that.”

Gabe chuckles low, shaking his head at his clueless teammate. “I do. I do know what home feels like, but I never, never choose anyone or anything over my ‘home’. Never. You sure as hell did, time after time,” Gabe says frustratedly, before shutting the door, leaving behind an even more frustrated Tyson.

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you caught the sound of Tyson’s voice when you walked to the kitchen, grabbing some more popcorn. You didn’t mean to listen to their conversation, but it felt like you were glued to your place, unable to take another step, unable to do anything but listen.

Gabe walks back into the room, the look on your face immediately letting him know you know. “How much did you hear?” he asks softly, approaching you slowly.

“Enough,” you whisper, before breaking down, no longer able to keep the tears locked away, no longer able to keep your emotions to yourself.

With two steps Gabe is in front of you, grabbing the bowl of popcorn you held onto between your trembling fingers. He guides you back to the couch, urging you to sit down, which is a true challenge for someone who can barely feel the ground they walk on. Gabe wraps his arms around you the moment you sit down, allowing you to cry onto his shoulder as much as you want and need. He whispers sweet nothings while softly brushing your hair out of your face, making sure you have room to breath. Time after time Gabe proves what kind of friend he is, always making sure to be there for you when he’s needed, always doing things with the best intentions. Even if it’s just holding you until you calm down, even if it’s just speaking the truth against Tyson, even if it’s just simply being there for one another.

“Sooner or later he would’ve realized what he lost, what he gave up for an evening of clubbing or God knows what. Apparently it’s sooner rather than later, however make sure you make him work for it, if you ever decide you want to give the two of you another chance,” Gabe softly advises you, when you finally calmed down a bit.

“I will, you know I love him, Gabe. But I don’t know if I should?” you mumble, not sure if it’s a question Gabe has the answer to.

“Sometimes the heart wants what it wants. If he’s serious about you, he will work his ass off to earn back your love and trust, I promise you,” Gabe comforts you, after knowing Tyson for so long he’s positive he knows that Tyson goes above and beyond to get what he wants in life.

Maybe it’s Gabe’s comforting words, maybe it’s knowing deep down Tyson still cares, maybe it’s your own strength, but for the first time in a while you feel a tiny flicker of hope, a little bit of light at the end of the dark tunnel. Maybe, just maybe this was all worth it, maybe this is what needed to happen to get better and move forward. Maybe this is how it was supposed to go.

It’s a weird feeling, knowing your ex still cares about you, but also knowing you aren’t ready to let him back into your life like that. You don’t feel like you’re capable of seeing him yet, let alone talk to him. The need to know how he’s doing, how he’s holding up grows, but also confuses you. It’s simply a weird and confusing situation to be in. Choosing between two, maybe even more ways to handle this, while also waiting for Tyson to make a move, which he obviously can’t since you don’t want to see him or speak to him, is a hard task. A task that will require a lot of thinking. You just need a bit more time to gather your thoughts, give all of your confusing feelings a place, while making sure you put yourself first, you need to put yourself first this time.

So when Gabe invites you to one of his home games a few weeks later you say ‘yes’ right away. It seems like the perfect time and place to see Tyson from a distance again, without putting too much stress on yourself, you can just watch and enjoy the game, you don’t have to force anything. Of course your seats turned out to be way closer to the ice than you expected them to be, although... what did you exactly expect with Gabe? You know he’s been talking to both of you, kind of acting like some sort of messenger. He tried to keep it casual, just slipping in some information during a conversation, but you noticed what he was trying to do. Frankly you’re thankful for his meddling.

Steadily your heart starts to beat faster and faster the more players appear on the ice to warm up. When Gabe appears you aren’t surprised to see Tyson close to him, knowing Gabe they probably had a little chat before they went on the ice. Tyson’s eyes shoot to yours the moment he’s close by, completely forgetting the ability to skate. You gasp when he lands on his ass on the ice, earning himself a round of laughter from the people around him, including Melissa and you. Gabe skates over to him, extending his hand and helping him upright again, but not before clearly telling him he’s ‘a dumbass’. Now that’s something you can agree on.

You know Tyson has something up his sleeve when he skates off to the bench, clearly busying himself with something you can’t see. After a few more stolen glances at each other Tyson skates closer and closer to you, until he’s right in front of the glass. His left hand catches your attention, until he gives you a small and almost shy smile. “Look at him, he’s blushing!” Melissa whispers next to you. You shoot her a quick ‘shut up’ look, before you focus your attention back on Tyson.

Tyson shows you the puck in his gloved hand, mouthing to you to catch it. It takes him two tries before the puck lands on the other side of the glass, safely in your hands. Tyson gives you one last quick smile before he skates off to get ready for the game. Melissa nudges you softly, bringing you back from your thoughts. “So, what’s on there?” she asks, knowing damn well you haven’t even checked.

“I don’t know if I want to look, Mel,” you tell her honestly. Melissa gives you a sad smile, throwing her arm around your shoulders.

“Let’s look together?” she suggests. You don’t know why you’re so nervous, how much can you actually write on a puck? He seemed happy to see you, so there’s no need to be nervous that it’s a bad thing. You look at the puck, turning it around in your hands so you can read the whole thing. ‘Talk after the game?’ is written on the puck, you immediately recognize Tyson’s handwriting and his little smiley face, or.. something that should resemble a smiley face.

“That wasn’t that bad, right?” Melissa asks softly, squeezing your shoulder.

“What if I’m not ready?” you ask her, a question that has been on your mind a lot lately.

“Then you take a step back, you don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, you don’t have any obligations. But he’s trying, y/n. You’ve heard all of Gabe’s stories, you’ve seen it yourself just now. It can’t hurt to at least talk to him.” You think about Melissa’s words, she does have a point there. Talking is something you should’ve done ages ago, or at least Tyson should’ve done that. So this is progress, he’s at least trying this time, that’s more than he used to do.

It’s hard to keep the smile off your face, you can’t even pinpoint why exactly you’re smiling. Whatever the reason is, it’s a good feeling to smile again. The game sure as hell plays a big part in it, the guys are on fire, scoring goal after goal, never giving the puck away for long. There’s barely any time for you to give Tyson a thumbs up, indicating you’re up for a talk after the game. Whenever you look at Tyson when he’s off the ice he’s smiling, whether it is to himself or to one of his teammates, that smile won’t leave his face.

You follow Melissa down to the locker room after the game is over. You’ve done this so many times, but this time it couldn’t be more different. You greet all the girls who are patiently waiting on their man, getting enough comforting words from them to last you a lifetime. When the door to the locker room opens you come face-to-face with Mikko, someone you haven’t seen in a while. Mikko’s face lights up when he spots you outside the locker room. “y/n! I haven’t seen you in so long,” he says, while hugging you tightly.

“I missed you too, goof. It’s great to see you,” you smile at him, wiggling out of his iron grip. Dude’s definitely stronger than he looks.

“Between you and me, Tyson’s a good kid, he just needed to grow up a bit,” Mikko whispers against your ear, before leaving you alone again.

You raise your eyebrow at Melissa, who just shrugs her shoulders. Weird. After a few more minutes Gabe and Tyson appear in front of you, both of them joking around. Tyson nervously looks around, not sure if he should come any closer. Gabe hugs you swiftly before throwing his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Make sure you bring her home safely, Jost,” Gabe warns him, before quickly saying goodbye to both of you.

You watch them leave, your mouth agape by the way they just left you here. Rude. “Did they just really do that?” you ask no one in particular, still shocked by their actions.

You turn around, looking back at Tyson, who still appears to be nervous. Is he nervous to talk to you? Why would he be nervous? It’s just you. “Hi there,” you smile, looking up at the man in front of you.

“Hi beautiful, it was nice seeing you tonight,” Tyson softly says, giving you a small smile.

Your insides flutter with his use of words, it’s nice hearing them even though you’re not completely sure if he means them the way you hope he does. “It was. You played great, I had a lot of fun,” you say, smiling at the proud look that crosses Tyson’s face for a moment.

Tyson leads you back to the rink, which is now completely deserted, thinking it would be a nice place to chat. For a while the two of you fall back into small talk, ‘how’s life?’, ‘how’s work?’, all that bullshit. You know Tyson and you are avoiding the actual topic that needs to be discussed, or topics? Whatever it is, there’s a lot to talk about. “I missed it here, I forgot how much I loved being here,” you tell Tyson, looking at the lights that lighten up the place, thinking back at the memories full of fun and happiness you both created here.

“I missed you, baby,” Tyson blurts out, completely catching you off guard.

Your eyes shoot back to his, you feel the panic rising inside your body. “Tyson...,” you start, warning him he’s walking on thin ice here.

Tyson’s face falls a bit, seeing the anxious look on your face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” Tyson groans, rubbing his face harshly, utterly frustrated with himself and the situation.

It’s quiet for a minute, both of you completely lost in thoughts. “Why is this so hard? We used to be able to talk about anything and everything. What changed, y/n?” Tyson wonders out loud.

You feel a painful pang in your heart, because you know damn well what changed. “You did, Tyson. You changed,” you almost whisper, the truth behind those words more clear than ever before.

You watch as Tyson’s whole composure changes in the blink of an eye, in just a split second he goes from the ‘happy’ guy to the guy who’s just as heartbroken as you are. “I did, didn’t I?” Tyson whispers, the tears pooling in his eyes. “I fucked this up, how could I be so stupid?” he mumbles, burying in face in his hands. “I’m so sorry, I regret this more than I could ever admit to you. I’m so sorry, baby,” Tyson cries, trying to keep his eyes focused on you. It’s hard to keep your own tears at bay when the guy you love so much has a breakdown in front of you, so you don’t. You just let them fall.

You don’t make a move to comfort him, you do give him room to let it all out, give him time to gather his composure again. “I looked through the box, the one you left on our bed?” Tyson says, his voice still broken, still thick with emotion. You nod your head, it was something you hoped he would do. “I had no idea you kept all of that throughout the years,” Tyson smiles weakly at you. “It made me realize what a moron I have been these past few months, maybe even longer,” he continues, shaking his head in disappointment. You listen intently at him, this, this is what you hoped for all this time: realization.

“I’m not telling you that you weren’t a moron, because you absolutely were. But I’m glad you came to the same conclusion.”

Tyson chuckles at your statement, giving you half a smile. “I know, I’m a dumbass. I’m a dumbass for acting this way and a dumbass for letting you go. Any guy would be on top of the world with you by his side, and I just let you slip through my fingers,” Tyson tells you, finally showing he knows he’s been a fool all this time, he knows he let something special go.

“Is it too late for us? Can you give us another chance?” Tysons asks you, his eyes flickering between you and the ground.

You sigh softly, knowing this question would come. It’s something you gave a lot of thought, something that crossed your mind daily. “I don’t know, Tyson. I really don’t know. You really fucking hurt me, you know? I can’t just look past that, I need to heal from that,” you tell him. Tyson nods his head, a guilty expression on his face. “You made me feel worthless every single day. You didn’t even give me a second of your time day after day. All you cared about was being away. Being away from me?”

It’s right that moment Tyson interrupts you by grabbing your hands. “No. No. That’s not true, you need to believe me,” he tells you as fast as he can.

“But how can I believe you when you never gave me a reason to? Your actions showed me exactly that, Tyson. I need answers, I need to know why,” you exclaim, starting to panic again, your anxiety taking over.

“Easy, baby. I’ll tell you everything you want to know, everything you want, but right now I need you to breath. Breathe, baby,” Tyson says softly, trying to calm your shallow breathing back down to normal. “Listen to my breathing, try to follow the way I breathe.” You do as he says, following the rise and fall of his chest, gaining back control of your own breathing.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, while Tyson just shakes his head at you, letting you know it’s okay. “Can you take me home, Ty? We can talk later, okay?” you ask him, suddenly feeling the need to crawl underneath the covers of your bed and just simply sleep for a while.

“Anything you want, y/n,” Tyson says, leading you out of the room and back to his car. You’re pretty sure he mumbled something under his breath, something very closely resembling ‘your home isn’t there, it’s with me’.

The drive to Gabe takes longer than expected, giving you more time to think about Tyson’s earlier question. You still need and want to know how he spent his nights, where he spent his nights, and why he acted like you didn’t exist. That conversation might need to wait until another day, you aren’t up for any more information, any more realizations, you still need to process everything you heard, saw and felt today.

Tyson stops the car in front of Gabe’s house, looking back at you with hopeful eyes. You know he still hopes he gets an answer to his earlier question, and you want to give him at least that. “You need to show me you changed, Tyson. Show me you changed for real and I’ll try to get past everything that happened. I can’t promise you anything,” you tell him softly, meaning everything you just said.

Tyson nods his head, a smile of relief on his lips. “I will, I promise you I will show you I changed and that you’re everything to me. I promise, baby.”

So that’s exactly what Tyson does the next few weeks, every free moment he tries to show you just how much you mean to him, without smothering you. Whether it’s taking you out for dinner, although you’re still waiting for Tyson to actually make you dinner by himself one day, to small coffee dates and fresh flowers at work. It’s been a lot to process, a lot of adjusting to this ‘new’ Tyson, or rather seeing the ‘old’ Tyson again. And you missed him, God you missed him so much.

Tyson seems happier, more at peace with himself these days, it’s a pleasant change. Often you wondered what was really going on inside his head, but you stopped trying after he waved it off again, and again, and again. The late night phone calls, or facetiming during road trips have become a habit again, something you didn’t think you would ever experience again with him. You still take things slow with Tyson, deciding to rather allow yourself to slowly start trusting him again than diving head first into a relationship again. Maybe it will never come that far again, you don’t know how the future will look like for the two of you, but for now it’s enough.

You come face-to-face with a smirking Melissa when you get home from yet another ‘iced coffee and donut’ date, even though you’re pretty sure Tyson isn’t allowed to eat any donuts. “Oh no,” you groan at Melissa’s expression.

“It’s time we have a little sister-sister conversation, don’t you think?” she asks you, ushering you into the living room.

“Do we?” you groan again, not in the mood to handle whatever Melissa wants to talk about now, because you already know it’s either about you, Tyson or you and Tyson.

Melissa flops down on the couch, patting the place next to her, indicating for you to sit your ass down. “Did you already talk to him about it?” she asks, straight to point in pure Melissa-style.

You let your head fall back against the cushions, sighing loudly. “I didn’t. We’re doing great, we’re having fun. I’m going to ruin it if I start asking questions again.”

Melissa stays quiet for a minute, trying to figure out the right way to approach this sensitive topic. “You know you deserve the truth, right? You can’t rebuild a relationship when not everything’s on the table, sweetheart,” Melissa says softly, knowing you’re struggling with this.

“I promise I’ll talk to him after the road trip, I don’t want to create any unnecessary negative energy before,” you promise Melissa, although she gives you a ‘who are you trying to fool here’ look before switching topics.

A few days later you find yourself back at Tyson’s place. It’s weird being here, knowing you don’t live here anymore. Nothing changed, absolutely nothing, Tyson kept everything the way you did, whether it’s out of laziness or out of hope you’ll come back on day. Either way it’s weird coming back to a place that’s no longer your home. You came here to talk, nothing more nothing less. You promised Mel you would, and if you’re being honest with yourself it’s time to know the truth, time to reopen old wounds and finally get some answers. You’ve grown closer and closer to Tyson, without knowing everything, without knowing you’d be able to forgive him if he ever made a misstep. It’s time.

Tyson has been a nervous wreck ever since you called him last night after he returned from the road trip to St. Louis. He knew this was coming, but he prayed you would simply forget, even though he knows that’s not fair at all. He can’t excuse his behavior, and he won’t, not anymore. You deserve nothing but the truth, the full truth. He’s not proud of it, but you leaving him opened his eyes, showed him he really needed to change. Tyson feels like that’s something he truly did, he changed for the better, he can only hope you’ll feel the same way. He can only hope you’re still on the same path after tonight.

“You did great these last games, Ty,” you smile at him. You’re proud of the way he’s been performing these last couple of games, he really stepped up his game.

“I know you didn’t come here to talk about my performances on the ice, so can we please skip the pleasantries?” Tyson sighs, catching you completely off guard with his rather harsh approach. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way, I’ve just been so fucking nervous since you called me,” Tyson curses, frustratedly brushing his fingers through his curls.

“You’re right though, I did come to talk. I think it’s time we lay all our cards on the table,” you tell him, nodding at your own answer.

You nervously bite on your lip, playing with the cup of water in your hand. It isn’t every day you ask your ex these questions. Questions you want the answers to, question you maybe don’t even want to hear the answers of. “I need to know if you cheated on me, Ty,” you blurt out, keeping your eyes on the ground, not wanting to see the look on Tyson’s face.

“Look at me, baby,” Tyson says, urging you to look up at him. “I never cheated on you, I wouldn’t do that to you. I promise.”

You shake your head at him, not knowing what to do with these emotions surging through your body. “It doesn’t make sense, Ty. Where were you all those nights? Where were you every time I lay in bed alone waiting for my boyfriend to come home? Waiting if he actually comes home this time or stays out all night again? Where were you?” At this point you’re past the civil conversations, past the friendly banter, you need answers, you need to know why he did what he did. The reason doesn’t even matter at this point, you need to know why. Why did he leave you alone so many nights, worrying about his well being, worrying about if he would come home at some point?

“Fuck, y/n! I know I fucked up, I know I did. But I swear on everything, I swear on my career, I swear on you that I never, never, touched another woman. I never kissed another woman, I never even danced with another woman, I did not cheat on you,” Tyson exclaims, hoping, praying you hear what he’s saying, that you’ll believe him. He didn’t do anything with another person, it was always you, it still is only you and he’ll do everything in his power to prove that to you every damn day.

“Then where were you, Ty? If you weren’t with another woman, then where the fuck were you every night you didn’t came home? Please enlighten me, because I’m so lost, so fucking lost,” you say, feeling utterly frustrated with yourself, with Tyson, with this shitty situation.

Tyson takes a deep breath, placing his cup back on the table. “Shitfaced drunk to the point I couldn’t even remember my own name, or so stoned I saw freaking elephants running all around town. Spending my money on unnecessary shit at clubs and bars, all to forget, trying to forget the fact that I had a perfect girlfriend waiting for me at home, while I did stupid shit. Fuck, this sounds even worse out loud than in my head,” Tyson groans, burying his face in his hands.

“But...,” you start, before Tyson cuts you off.

“I felt ashamed and guilty, y/n. Ashamed I let it get that far every time, guilty I didn’t tell you, guilty I didn’t come home again. One of the guys would just take me back to their place out of sympathy, letting me crash on their couch, trying to sleep off my haze.”

You try to come up with words to say, with anything but nothing comes out, you just feel.. empty? “I don’t understand, Tyson,” you say, at this point not even sure what you don’t understand.

“I tried, y/n. I tried to just come clean, but I couldn’t when you were so nice all the time, I couldn’t when I knew you would hate it, hate me. You know I’m a fucking lightweight, that makes it even worse. But those are no excuses, there aren’t any. I fucked up,” Tyson sighs, giving you a sad smile, “I couldn’t face you, I didn’t know how to show you my vulnerable side without letting it change the way you saw me. I didn’t want you to see me any different, but I didn’t notice I changed until you packed your bags and left me standing in the doorway.”

You’re absolutely speechless, there are so many things you want to say but you can’t form any sentences, any words. You just stare at him, your mind racing with an unlimited amount of thoughts. “Are you okay, baby?” Tyson asks softly, reaching out to put his hand on your arm.

You shake your head from side to side, wiping away the tears that spilled out. “I’m not okay, I’m definitely not okay,” you tell him. “I feel terrible knowing you didn’t feel like you could come to me, like you couldn’t talk to me. I’ve always been your biggest supporter, nothing would’ve changed that, Ty.”

Tyson gently wipes the tears away from underneath your eyes, scooting closer to where you’re seated. “Come here, baby,” he softly says, opening his arms for you. You hesitate for a second, not knowing if this is the right thing to do. Fuck the right thing, you definitely need a hug right now, and judging by Tyson’s facial expression he needs one as well. You lean forward, putting your arms around his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his body. How long has it been since you hugged each other? You can’t even remember, way too long. Tyson closes his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible to his own body.

“I missed this, Ty. I missed you,” you confess, the feeling of his arms around you, the feeling of Tyson, bringing back so many memories, so many happier times.

“I know we still have a long way to go, but I hope we’ll do this together. I can’t even tell you how great it feels to have my arms around you again, even if it’s just for a moment,” Tyson says, after you both let go of each other.

“We do, but I’m in if you’re in, Ty,” you agree, wanting nothing more than to work through the issues you still have. It’s time to forgive, time to let go, time to change and time to move on.

“I’m all in.”

The talk you had with Tyson that Wednesday evening did wonders for the both of you. You still had a long way to go before you were even remotely close to where you used to be with Tyson, but the most important thing was that you were working on things. Slowly, but steadily the two of you worked on trusting each other again, telling each other important things again, just simply working on being in a healthy relationship again. Although the word never came up, you were nowhere near ready for that commitment, so you settled on something less intimidating. Friends.

It was supposed to be a regular, normal Friday evening with just Melissa and the kids. Gabe and Tyson were playing one of their most important games this season, both of them begged you to come, but it was too late to find a babysitter. Not wanting to be by yourself there and leaving Mel alone, you decided to sit this one out as well, promising to cheer them on in front of the tv. It’s the least you could do. So there you are, seated on the couch wearing your Jost jersey for the very first time again, just as you promised. Weird, like nothing ever changed, even though the exact opposite is true.

You’re bouncing a giggling Linnea Rae on your knee, looking down at her adorable mini jersey. “Look it’s your daddy!” you exclaim excitedly, pointing at the closeup shot of Gabe.

“Daddy!” Linnea Rae giggles just as excited.

You catch Mel softly smiling at your little interaction with her daughter, enjoying the love you share for each other. It’s been a blessing to have you around here, the way you care for her children, but also for her and her husband has been phenomenal. Mel couldn’t wish for a better friend, for a better sister than you.

“Oh no,” you whisper when Tyson gets slammed hard into the glass. Melissa grabs your hand, squeezing softly.

“He’s going to be fine, he’s a tough guy,” she says, trying her best to comfort you. And he is, like the tough guy Tyson is, he gets up again, shaking off the hard hit. The game continues and you’re glad Tyson is fine, skating like he didn’t just get squeezed between a glass wall and a 200 pound hockey player.

All goes well until Gabe decides the best place to smack his stick is directly against Tyson’s face, again. “Not his face, Gabe! Not his fucking face again!” you yell at the screen, thanking Mel for already putting the kids to sleep.

“Shit, that looks bad,” Melissa almost whispers, squeezing your hand again.

You don’t know many things for sure in life, but you sure as hell know Tyson will be spotting a black eye for weeks. But like the tough guy he already proved to be, he just goes on with the game, trying his absolute best to work as hard as he can, giving himself completely to the game, anything to get his team the victory.

“That’s the second time you gave my man a black eye, Gabe. Why do you keep hurting him?” you whine the second Gabe walks into the living room. For a moment the room stays awfully quiet, until you realize what you just said. “I really said that, huh?” you ask, fighting to keep the smile off your face.

“You sure did. But I’m sorry, it was an accident. Again,” Gabe chuckles, shrugging his shoulders.

“Uhu, again,” you say, rolling your eyes at your best friend.

Gabe grins at you, flopping down on the couch next to Mel. “I’ll try not to hurt his pretty face again, okay?” Gabe laughs, shaking his head at you in a playful way.

“Is it weird if I, you know.. went over to check up on him?” you ask your friends, suddenly insecure about the thought of just showing up at his door.

Gabe gives you a soft smile. “I’m absolutely convinced he’d love that, y/n,” Gabe says, pulling Melissa closer to him.

“I know he would, sis,” Melissa agrees with her husband.

“Fine, okay. I’ll be back in a few. Don’t enjoy yourself too much,” you tell the two lovebirds before finding your stuff and almost running out of the front door.

You’re giddy the entire drive to Tyson’s apartment. This could go two ways, either it goes extremely well or this backfires completely. You’re hoping for the first one. Seeing Tyson get hurt gave you some realizations. One of them is that you absolutely hate to see him hurt, and you want nothing more than to be there for him, care for him, to tell him everything will be alright. Which brings you to your second discovery of the evening: you still love him, you’re still completely and utterly in love with Tyson. You can’t, really can’t imagine your life without Tyson in it. It’s your turn to tell him you need him, tell him you don’t want to do anything without him, tell him you still see a future together.

You pick up his favorite comfort food on the way over, cake. You know his nutritionist will hate you for this, but he deserves a treat after taking a stick to the face. You chuckle to yourself when you think of the small cake you bought, it’s stupid and childish, but you love it. The fun you already had makes it absolutely worth it. You park in front of the building, hopping out of the car and quickly making your way over to the floor Tyson occupies.

You rummage around in your coat pocket for the lighter you bought alongside the cake. Quickly placing the cover back into the bag, and lighting up the ‘2’ shaped candle. You snicker to yourself, enjoying this way too much. You knock on the door and patiently wait for Tyson to open up. You hear Tyson approaching, making it harder and harder to keep your composure.

The moment he opens the door his face shifts from slight annoyance, to confused, to happy, and back to confused again. “y/n?” he asks softly, looking between you and the cake, confusion clearly written all over his face.

“Happy second black eye!” you yell, before bursting out in laughter.

Tyson can’t help but join you in your laughter, if there’s one thing he loves about you, it’s your wicked sense of humor. “You really are something special, aren’t you?” Tyson chuckles, shaking his head softly at you, a smile playing on his lips.

“You tell me, Jost,” you say, giving him a wink before walking past him and inside his apartment.

“So you bought me a cake?” Tyson asks you, looking over your shoulder to the cake on his kitchen counter.

“I sure did, thought you’d deserved a treat after what Gabe did to you, again,” you laugh.

“He sure likes to hit me in the face with things. But thank you, this really means a lot to me, baby,” Tyson softly says, squeezing your hip with one of his hands, before grabbing two plates. While Tyson cuts the cake you look for something to drink, deciding water will do for the night.

You flop down on the couch next to Tyson, immediately bringing the fork with a piece of cake to your mouth. “Oh God, that’s so good,” you moan out, you picked some killer cake.

“Don’t make those noises, please,” Tyson groans, stuffing his face with cake.

“I’m sorry I picked such a good freaking cake, mister,” you laugh, nudging him with your foot. Tyson rolls his eyes playfully at you, grabbing your foot with his free hand before you can nudge him again and again.

“Movie?” Tyson asks after you both finished your plates, although Tyson finished the last few bites of your piece. Like he said he’s a needy and hungry man.

“Sure, but just something light and funny, Ty. Nothing dark,” you tell him, knowing he’d love to scare you throughout some horror movie.

While Tyson scrolls through the movies, you make yourself more comfortable on the couch, laying back against the cushions with your feet against Tyson. He looks at you, scanning your body, clearly thinking about something since his eyebrows keep furrowing and relaxing.

“Come here, Tyson,” you softly say when he finally picks a movie to watch, opening your arms for him. His eyes shoot to yours, like he can’t actually believe you just told him that. He gives you a quick smile, before moving towards you, laying down beside you.

He rests his head against your chest, just like he used to do so long ago, his arm wrapped around your waist. “Is this okay?” he asks you, making sure you aren’t uncomfortable, even though you’re the one who suggested this.

“It’s perfect, Ty,” you reassure him.

Halfway through the movie you can’t resist the temptation to run your fingers through his curls any longer. Tyson groans softly when your nails rake over his scalp, sending chill through your body. “That’s so good, please never stop doing that,” he groans out, pulling you tighter against him.

“I wasn’t planning on it, Ty,” you tell him, smiling at the way his eyes shoot to yours.

“You aren’t? Are you serious?” he asks you quietly, eyes still locked on yours.

“I am, love. I came to the conclusion that you’re worth all the risks in life. You’re my light, my guiding light in darkness, my light at the end of the tunnel,” you say, leaving a soft kiss on his forehead. You try to express your emotions towards Tyson, trying to make him feel what you felt when you came to the sudden realization he’s worth taking a risk.

“What does that mean, baby?” Tyson asks you softly, an uncertain smile on his lips.

“It means I’m willing to give us another shot, another go. I want to try again, Ty.”

You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips when you look at Tyson’s face, the realization setting in, the happiness and the gratefulness spreading all over his face, the relief flooding through his body.

“How does that work?” Tyson asks again, clearly trying to rid himself of any insecurities, any questions he has. You gladly take those insecurities away from him.

“A clean slate, completely starting over again to give us both a fresh start. How does that sound?” you ask him.

Tyson nods at you, the happiness radiation off him. “A fresh start, I like the sound of that,” Tyson muses. The changes on his face fascinates you, it seems like he goes through a whole range of emotions in just a few minutes. Until he reaches one you know all too well, mischief. He looks at you, the familiar glimmer in his eyes tells you he’s definitely up to something. He sends you a soft and sweet smile, that almost melts you into a puddle right there and then. “Hi, I’m Tyson,” he says, extending his hand to you. You can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of you, this is exactly how Tyson is. Funny, charming, an absolute dream.

“You’re a goof, you know that?” you tell him, softly shaking your head at him, but the big grin on your face tells him you loved that. Tyson intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing softly. When he doesn’t make any other moves you take matters into your own hand, slowly leaning in and softly pressing your lips on his. The familiarity, the rush of emotion flooding through your body hits you like a ton of bricks. The feeling of his lips against yours light something deep inside of you, and just like that you finally feel complete again.

#tyson jost #tyson jost imagine #tyson jost fic #tyson jost x reader #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nhl fic #hockey fic #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #tyson jost fanfiction

[skipps-writes-for-gojo-satoru]

hello! i was wondering if you write angst? if so, could you please write headcanons about gojo visiting his s/o (i use she/her pronouns) during their anniversary??

A Promise.

Gojo Satoru x fem!Reader

Im sorry I kinda made it a oneshot because 147 fked me up bad and this is the fruit of it 😭

Note: italics mean flashbacks, read very carefully 🔍

The sound of an alarm goes off.

"Good morning, (Y/N)!"

"Good morning, Toru～"

A surprised giggle leaves your lips as Gojo suddenly flips you over and peppers multiple kisses to your face. You tried to push away his face with your hands, your hands placed on his warm cheeks as your giggles turn into laughter. "Satoru, s-stop it tickles!" You say in between your laughter which promotes a grin from Gojo who finally pulls away to look at your smiling face, your once closed eyes fluttering opening to reveal orbs full of life and love staring back at him. The alarm in the background ringing in the background.

The sound of an alarm goes off.

Gojo slowly blinks as his bleary vision clearing the more he regains consciousness. He reaches over to grab his phone by the nightstand and turns it off then carelessly tosses his phone onto his bed. He slowly sits up, his ashen bangs covering his dull eyes. When was the last time he cut his hair? He doesn't remember, with a sigh he pushes his bangs back and stands up to get ready for the day. Only silence filling the room.

"You can't have cupcakes for breakfast! " You say as you quickly swipe the cupcake from Gojo's hand. "Aww but it's the same thing as pancakes!" He whines out as you're both standing in the kitchen dressed in your work attire, Gojo's blindfold resting by his neck. "No, they're different! We don't have much time left because someone decided to play instead of getting ready for work." You huff as you cross your arms, a light blush dusting your cheeks. "I can't help it, you're just too adorable! How could I resist?" Gojo says while wrapping his arms around your waist your head resting against his chest, you couldn't help the smile forming upon your lips. "Fine, one cupcake only!"

Once in the kitchen, Gojo reaches into the refrigerator and grabs a cupcake from the box- he purchased yesterday. Taking a bite out of it before throwing it into the trashcan. Slipping his sunglasses over his eyes, taking one last look at his apartment before closing the front door behind him.

"Oh wow, Satoru look!" You excitedly yell out as you gesture for him to look outside the car window. Gojo momentary pauses before taking a look outside. Where cherry blossoms trees lined the road and it's petals fluttering all around. "You speak as if you've never seen a cherry blossom tree." Gojo nonchalantly says before you grab his arm forcing him to look at you. "No matter how many times I see them I still think they're beautiful!" Ijichi quietly tries to cover his laughter as he stares at you both from the rear view mirror.

Gojo doesn't bother to look at the trees, his eyes were straight on the road with one hand on the steering wheel. His car slowing down as he approaches a red light, his eyes momentarily flicker to the bouquet of flowers resting on the passenger seat.

As the car slows down and pulls to a stop, you both get out of the car. Taking in the sight of Jujutsu High, taking your hand Gojo pulls you along the archway so that you would both be walking side by side.

Gojo parks his car by the sidewalk, turning off the ignition he couldn't help but rub his temples. Grabbing the bouquet he gets off the car closing the door as the signal of the car locking rings momentarily.

"Mrs. Gojo, the higher up have an assignment for you." You pause your writing as you take in the words Ijichi says as he stands by your office doorway. You let a long sigh, putting your pen down before stretching in your seat. "What rank?" You ask as you stand up to move towards the direction of the door. "Presumably A rank."

The wind passes as Gojo climbs a set of concrete steps, his ashen hair gracefully dancing along with the wind. The grip on the bouquet tightens, as he takes each step closer to his destination. The soles of his shoes crushing the fallen cherry blossoms that lie.

"(Y/N)!"

Gojo immediately spots your figure walking across the courtyard. The first years halt in their training as the sound of their teacher echos. Not even a second passes as Gojo appears in front of you with a frown on his face. "Mission?" He casually asks before you nod towards him apologetically. "I'm not sure how long it'll take but I promise to return as soon as I can!" You enthusiastically takes his hands in yours, the matching rings you both wear shining momentarily as the clouds pass. "And?" Gojo raises an eyebrow as his frown deepens not quite satisfied with your answer, his grip on your hands tightening. "And I'll promise to take lots of pictures and videos and call you when I can. Oh and souvenirs!" You smile brightly towards him causing him to return your smile. "Very well, you have permission to leave." He says playfully before bringing you into an embrace and pecking your lips.

"Promise to come back safely to me okay?"

"I promise!"

"You're such a liar (Y/N)..."

Gojo whispers as he places the beautiful bouquet on your tombstone. The elegant engraving of your name etched onto the stone, a reminder that you were no longer in this world. Those were the last words you ever spoke to him before you left. He could vividly remember the figure of you walking away from him, each step you take moving further and further away from him in every nightmare he sees. Waking up only to be drenched in swest as he yells out your name, wishing if only he had the power to stop you from ever leaving. None of this would of happened and your name would not be etched onto this stone, this was not the kind of anniversary he wanted to spend. Gojo stands back up and puts his hands into his pockets, blankly staring the arrangement of flowers. He wonders if you like them. He remembered the way your eyes always sparkled when he surprised you with a bouquet. Oh how sweet your voice was whenever you called out his name. In moments of happiness, sadness, confusion, excitement and fear.

"Did you call out my name?" You were struggling to breathe as blood seamlessly flowed out of you. Trying to drag your already broken body as the ceiling around you started to collapse while your mind flickered in out of consciousness. Gritting your teeth as hard as you could to keep moving. Chanting his name as a mantra "Satoru, S-Satoru, Saー!"

"Did you t-think of me?" Your body finally gives up on you as you lied on the shattered ground. Even then with the excruciating pain from the boulders that fell onto your broken arms, you still tried to drag yourself forward. "I-I need to get back t-to him...." The blood stained ring on your finger, a reminder of where you must return to. You needed to see him, your mind filled with memories of him, of his smiling face, his beautiful blue eyes.

"I p-promised...!"

Your nails bloodied as you heaved pushing your heavy body, before your arms could no longer move under the weight of the rock. A haze of red clouded your vision as tears endlessly spilled from your eyes, with your broken voice screaming out his name over and over again. Before the falling debris silenced your screams. There was not a single moment you didn't call out for him or think of him even in your final moments. He was and will always be your everything.

Gojo was kneeling by your grave, his sunglasses shattered-as tears endlessly flowed out of his eyes. "(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y-Y/N), please c-come back to me...!"

However, only silence greeted him.

Taglist: @the-fandoms-georgie @crapimahuman @annie-acadia @iwanttobefuckedbysatorugojo @herrscherr @spicyyren @asmaeackerman1 @clearlynotellie @your-waifuuuuu @dokiwoki @armiihhh

#gojou satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk x reader #skipps writes