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mariaofdoranelle · 7 months

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URDAD - part 4

Vaccine: I want you in my arms

Fic masterlist

There’s this super catholic holiday where I live and it’s the entire city’s personality. It’s this weekend. And I just realized I’ll spend the entire holiday writing smut for different fics while all my friends and family are praying and attending the procession. Am I going to hell

Words: 2,2k

Warnings: NSFW (I did my best to describe it but it’s an uncommon one so if you want to google it this chapter’s sex position is called Stairway to Heaven)

Aelin had to spend some extra energy she didn’t have to keep her legs from swaying. Her muscles were sore, more strained than any gym could make her feel, especially if she considered how tender she was between the thighs as well.

She went back to her bedroom to get a change of clothes and check on Fleetfoot, but her mind hadn’t left Rowan’s bed. The last 24 hours consisted of sex. And naps. And more sex. Eating leftovers of the barbecue with her dog. More sex. Again. Once more. Sleep. Morning sex—

Rowan trapped her against the hallway wall, making her squeal.

“What’re you doing?” Aelin’s head lolled against the wall as he untied her robe, his mouth on her neck. “I left your bed five minutes ago.”

“Too long,” Rowan grunted, grumpy enough to make her laugh.

Aelin pulled his face to her with both hands, and despite the urgency in which he trapped her on the wall, Rowan’s kiss was long and sweet. His teeth and tongue played with her lips when he wasn’t kissing her in tender and heated flicks.

But if his affectionate caresses were making her knees even weaker, she wasn’t ready for when he pinned her wrists above her head, against the wall.

Rowan kissed her collarbone, neck and jaw before whispering in her ear, “I can stop if you’re too tired.”

From under her lids, Aelin analyzed his eager yet careful eyes. How that brilliant mind of his might be planning to have his way with her. Was she tired? Yes. But too tired?

She arched her back, trying to shove their hips together since her wrists were still pinned. “C’mere.”

When Aelin thought his hands were freeing her, he just let her loose for half a second before gripping her waist as if it was his lifeline, Rowan’s hands sneaking under her robe.

His lips were halfway to her neck when Aelin redirected it to her mouth. Their kiss was long and thorough, Rowan taking everything from her while he clutched the shape of her, squeezed her ass and made her tingle all over.

His hand met her pussy, and he groaned at the wetness he found.

“Fuck,” Rowan said under his breath, his fingers sliding inside her with impressive ease. “I can’t get enough of you.”

“You’re insatiable, Doctor.” Aelin’s tone was hoarse and silky. “I didn’t know you were like this.”

“I didn’t either,” he murmured against her jaw before kissing, gripping, curling his fingers inside her and making her eyes roll.

Aelin took his cock in her hand and watched him roughen up his caresses with each pump.

She took a peak at the hallway they were at. The best place here to fuck would be the wall, or maybe…

Aelin took his hand, interrupting their hookup session to lead him to the stairs.

“You wanna fuck downstairs, baby?” Rowan whispered in her ear from behind, his breath against her ear and his hands on her hips being too much to handle.

Too far. Aelin was too horny to talk properly, but the couch was too far. So was the bedroom.

After descending a little, she stopped him in the large landing between the two sets of stairs. She took off her half-opened robe, letting it pool by her feet. Aelin got down on her knees before him, watching Rowan’s confused frown before she turned around to face the stairs.

Fuck, baby were his only words before he kneeled behind her and pushed his cock inside her, every part of it spreading her open for him.

Aelin moaned, holding herself upright by holding a step of the stairs, her knees too weak.

His pace was hungry, Rowan held her hip with one hand, this thumb grazing the top of her ass, and himself with the other, needing to hold on to the stairs if he was as wrecked as she did.

The apex of Aelin’s thighs were on fire, that burning feeling spreading through her limbs. But she still pushed against his thrusts, demanding as much as he could give her, even if she could barely take it herself.

Rowan’s grip on her tightened, and after one particularly merciless roll of his hips, she lost her balance, stumbling off her position.

He immediately stopped to check on Aelin, caressing her hair as he waited for her.

“You okay, baby?” he asked between pants.

The look Aelin sent him over her shoulder was nothing short of wicked. She purred, “Yes, Daddy.”

His eyes darkened, something sparking behind them as he took her in, all in fours for him and ready for more.

He slapped her ass, hard enough to sting.

“What did you say?”

“I—“

Rowan slammed his cock into her, making her lean against the stairs before her and cry out. Without easing his pace, he grabbed a fistful of Aelin’s hair

“What did you call me, baby?”

She had no idea where that pet name came from, but now that he seemed to be into it…

“Your cock is so big, Daddy, it tears me apart when you—“ He pounded into her, turning what she was saying into incomprehensible, strangled noises. “Yes,” she whimpered, “like that.”

“Yeah? How about—“

He sneaked his hand between her legs, pressing her clit. His rhythmic circles there added to his cock filling her in was too much. Aelin’s limbs were weak, all her blood rushing to her loins, and she moaned his name, very close to falling limp on those stairs.

Rowan’s hips stuttered, and the little more pressure he added on her clit made her go over the edge. Aelin clenched around him, knees buckling as her vision blurred, overwhelmed with sensation. He didn’t look much better, and they were both holding on to each other and to that damned staircase, calling each other’s names as they got through the peak together.

After he pulled out, Aelin sat on the bottom of that set of stairs, leaning on the steps with her elbows. Her breath was still erratic when Rowan sat her on his lap and nestled her on his bigger frame.

“My clothes are cleaner,” he explained why he put her over himself instead of the floor, even if his house was tidy. As if she needed a reason to sit on his lap after being fucked like that, repeatedly.

“I have a complaint.” Aelin bit back a mischievous grin while she watched his face grow concerned. “You have your clothes on.”

Rowan’s features relaxed, and he took his t-shirt off to give it to her. “We’re even now.”

The only real complaint she had is that she lost sight of his abs the second his cotton shirt crossed her sight, as she put it on. Truth was, Aelin knew exactly why he didn’t take any of his clothes off. He was too caught up in the moment to do it, and the only reason she took hers off was for that little show in this stairway.

Rowan was awfully silent, just staring at her in a way she’d just found out he’d do sometimes after an orgasm.

She leaned on his torso, running the tip of her finger on the bridge of his nose. “What’re you thinking?”

Rowan startled, realizing just now that he’d tuned out, and his lips tugged in a playful way that was different from his previous vacant look. “Of all parts of my house, I never thought we’d take my stairs’ virginity.”

She chuckled. “That was a first for me too.”

Rowan’s steady breaths were a balm to her soul, just as soothing as his pine smell and bare walls. Aelin used to criticize rich people who had nothing but neutral colors in their home, but she liked his house—especially the green pops of color, even if she’d still put more plants or colorful pillows. Fleetfoot loved it here too, mostly because of the garden and the pool—

Rowan cleared his throat. “But there’s this other thing I was thinking about.”

“Tell me.”

“What’re you doing tomorrow on your lunch break?”

“Why?” Aelin’s gaze roamed over his eager expression with alert eyes, the reddened cheeks framing his nervous close-lipped smile, and she knew exactly what he wanted. She shifted on his lap, straddling him now. “Why do you need me at work, Doctor?” She ran both hands over his chest, sending him a heated look from under her lashes as she said in a sultry tone, “You want to traumatize Anne Jausten?”

He swallowed, his thumb playing with the hem of her—his—shirt. “No, I want to have lunch with you.”

Aelin went rigid on top of him, blinking. “As in a lunch date?”

His mouth opened. And closed. Rowan nodded, his eyes intent on hers.

“I’d love to,” Aelin said around a grin wide enough to release the tension on his shoulders.

“Good.” Rowan showered her neck and jaw with quick pecks. “Good, I—“

“But it can’t be tomorrow.” She grimaced, just now remembering her scheduled appointment. “I have an apartment tour.”

His face fell. “So soon?”

Aelin wasn’t sure if he meant it as a question, so she decided to take it as one.

“Yes, because I’m homeless.” Rowan frowned, making her grin while she rubbed off the crease between his eyebrows. “And your deadline was one or two weeks, remember?”

“I… deadline?” He blinked. “I didn’t mean it literally, Aelin. I’m not kicking you out in eleven days.”

“I know you won’t, but I still need a home.”

“Alright, then.” He pushed back his shoulders, something shifting in his mind as his gaze levered hers. “Let’s see this apartment.”

She leaned away to carefully scan his face, trying to understand him. “You want to see the apartment with me?”

“Why not?” He shrugged. “It’ll be fun.”

˜˜

“I hate this,” Rowan protested once more, “it’s unacceptable.”

“Can you explain your new concerns to me, Mr. Whitethorn?” The real estate agent’s tone was way too neutral, her smile way too strained.

The poor woman. Rowan was wearing her thin with his million complaints about her potential future house.

He gave the woman a surprised glare, as if he couldn’t believe she wasn’t seeing the same thing as he. “Why are these walls so yellow? It hurts my eyes.”

“It was inspired by a viral kitchen on Pinterest, sir.”

Rowan gave her a bored look. “It’s tacky.” He pointed at a small crack in the wall, between the counter and the wall cabinet. “And what about that? Are the cracks cosmetic, or does the building have structural damage?”

After giving a quick reassurance that she didn’t know about any structural issues, the agent excused herself. Good for her, since Aelin didn’t know what was going on with Rowan today.

The apartment wasn’t half as nice as his two-story house, but it was the closest from the hospital she could afford. It was a small, nice-enough middle-class place for a single, middle-class girl.

Aelin tugged on Rowan’s hand and stood on her tiptoes to whisper, “Take off your pants.”

His eyes bulged. “Here?”

“Well, I have to do something about this bug up your ass.”

Rowan crossed his arms, unimpressed by her snark. “If I have a bug up my ass, it must be because this apartment has bug issues.”

The slap on his bicep was gentle, but Aelin’s face was not.

He gaped. “The apartment is terrible, and I’m the one in the wrong?”

“It’s a perfectly good apartment!”

“The floors are too creaky!” He made his point by walking around and stepping multiple times on the creaks he found. “Do you think Fleetfoot is gonna like to run here? Can she even run in a place this small?” He dragged her by the hand to a window. “You see this alley?”

It was right under her window, even though the front of the building was on a bigger street. In fact, the alley was between two larger streets, and a big part of it was just the sides of bigger buildings that faced the main streets.

“What about it?”

“It’s the kind of place thiefs run to after mugging women like you. For all I know, there could be a crack house by the end of this alley.”

She crossed her arms. “A crack house? Seriously?”

Rowan shrugged. “Have you seen Mistward’s crack rates?”

“Have you seen Mistward’s crack rates?”

He squinted his eyes. “I don’t like this house.”

Aelin took a peak around the apartment. It wasn’t ideal, but it was as good as she could get given the time she had. But yesterday Rowan said there was no urgency at all, which meant Aelin had until he got tired of her.

And he was right about Fleetfoot, too. The house wasn’t ideal for her, the neighborhood wasn’t safe enough to walk her at night, and no thief would be scared of a friendly little mutt that looked like a golden retriever.

Imogen never mentioned anything about her father having girlfriends, which probably means Rowan gets bored of women easily. If Aelin played her cards right, she could even double her amount of weeks with him, finding a better place to move out in the meantime.

“Fine.” She pointed a finger at him. “But if you keep this up, I’m not bringing you to the next tour tomorrow.”

Rowan’s eyes widened. “Tomorrow?”

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#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #throne of glass #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #rowaelin fanfic #throne of glass fanfic #urdad

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waywardstation · 2 years

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Practice Makes Perfect

Akari asks Ingo to help her craft pokeballs in preparation for a massive mass outbreak.

I’ve been holding onto this one for a bit because it felt a bit boring, but decided to tweak it a little and post it. Hope you like it!

OR read here on AO3!

Enjoy!

————

“How are you getting these so smooth?”

Akari inspected one of the pokeballs Ingo had handed to her, having just finished carving it. She inspected the object in her hands; by no means was it perfectly smooth, but it was so well-rounded, it might as well have been classified as such (at least, by standards of hand-carved tumblestone and apricorns).

“Practice, I suppose.” Ingo picked up another chunk of tumblestone, already preparing to carve another half-capsule out of it. The mineral was thankfully soft and malleable with the right tools, and was almost comparable to carving soapstone, but less powdery, cut chunks falling away more like wood. But it was still strenuous work, and required breaks.

Akari compared Ingo’s carved pokeball with one of her own, much more angular with large notches. It wasn’t to the point where it was considered sloppy handiwork, but it was noticeably more…pointed, than Ingo’s smoother texture.

“How much practice until I can make carvings as smooth as yours?” Akari asked, half-rhetorically as she placed the pokeballs down in the pile next to her that had accumulated from both of their efforts.

After seeing the impending storm approaching on the horizon from over the sea that morning, Akari just knew there was going to be a massive mass outbreak tomorrow when the tempest rolled in. She could tell with the way the atmosphere felt staticky, full of that strange energy the pokemon loved so much, and she was going to be ready for it. So naturally, she asked Ingo if he could help her carve some pokeballs for the occasion. It would save her some money if she could make them, instead of buying them from Choy.

One of the few in Hisui who not only advocated for the use of pokeballs, but also proficiently crafted them for those of the Pearl Clan who were slowly warming up to the idea, Akari knew he would make quick work of the otherwise-tedious chore. Though, despite him helping speed up the process, it was still taking a while; the two of them had been carving and assembling for almost two hours now. Akari was grateful for the shade of the fieldlands tree they were stationed under, protecting them from a potential sunburn.

“Practice only carries you halfway to your intended destination,” Ingo huffed with amusement, carving large chunks off of the tumblestone block in his hands; it was already starting to resemble a vaguely round shape. “Patience gets you across the other half of the way.”

“I know, I know,” Akari interrupted him before he could say it himself, following it up with an exaggerated deeper voice as a poor imitation of his own. “Speed, but not haste!”

The humorous impression made Ingo laugh, and he had to momentarily stop carving at her act. His laughter was infectious enough to make Akari pause momentarily herself to giggle.

“See? You know the tracks,” Ingo returned to his carving, a thin smile still on his face.

“I don’t know, I can only carve one in about the time you carve two!” Akari glanced down at the tumblestone chunk in her hand, with only one half being roughly carved. She mentally compared her handiwork to a porygon, and Ingo’s to a porygon 2. “And it would take me all day to make one as smooth as yours!”

“Your hands will become accustomed to the process,” Ingo reassured her as he began smoothing out the edges of the tumblestone with smaller notches. It was like second nature to him, with how fast and precise he did it.

Akari observed her fingers, sore from the work, and decorated with small, shallow cuts - a normal sight after a session of hand-crafting pokeballs. Glancing at Ingo’s, they seemed sturdy and thicker. Calloused.

She supposed he had been making pokeballs for longer than she had.

Akari paused her work to flex her aching hands while Ingo continued to work on his, beginning to carve out the inside of the capsule, and occasionally matching it up with an empty apricorn shell. She glanced back out at the distant storm, still hanging over the ocean.

“I think It’s going to hit the fieldlands tomorrow,” She guessed out loud, feeling the gentle breeze; it would be much stronger within the next day.

“It seems so.” Ingo allowed himself a quick look at the dark clouds before returning to his carving. “What Pokémon do you believe it will bring to the station?”

“Hmm…” Akari pondered the question for a moment, thinking back on her pokedex data. “Well, I really need to do more research on chimchar and monferno…but I’m sure it’s just going to bring more buizel and starly around.”

“Well, they do love to gather in groups,” Ingo commented, still focused on carving…he seemed to be spending longer on that one pokeball than normal.

Curious, Akari glanced back down at his hands, to see he had finished shaping the tumblestone, and had begun to carve a rather simple, but pretty design into its surface; it seemed to resemble the striped pattern on his own coat. He was not much of an artist like Akari, so the design seemed rather practiced and methodical as opposed to artistic. But to Akari, it was still plenty charming.

“Ingo!” Akari was surprised at the sight. “I don’t want to use that one now, it looks too nice! What if I miss, or it cracks if the Pokémon breaks out?”

“Well then don’t miss, or let the Pokémon escape it,” Ingo joked as he brushed away the carving residue and admired the work quickly to make sure it was finished, before assembling it together with the capsule lock.

Now handed to her, Akari admired the detail up close, running a thumb over it. She had never thought to customize her pokeballs with patterns before…

“I’m definitely saving this one for a chimchar.” Akari told him as she placed the complete pokeball with the others, earning another small smile from Ingo.

#submas #Ingo #warden Ingo #Akari #Pokemon akari #pokémon legends arceus #pokemon legends arceus #Pokémon legends #pokemon legends #pokemon #pokemon fanfic #Pokemon Fanfiction #waywardstationfanfic

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robinofgothamcity · 2 years

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"this changes nothing....i'm still me, even if i'm with you"

♡ character: octavian / heroes of olympus

♡ pronouns used: she / her

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / a bit ooc but i'm obsessed with the idea of enemies to lover with this idiot

"reyna, don't do this to me. you're sending us on a quest together? are you trying to torture us?" you asked with desperation, "should i not be offended by that? because it feels like i should be," octavian said giving you a dirty look.

you rolled your eyes.

"it won't be for that long. three days tops! we just need to make sure what we're up against if the threat gets bigger," she explained. you whined while stomping your feet like a child, "it won't be as bad as you expect and you're some of our strongest fighters," she tried to say enthusiastically.

you sighed before agreeing. you could tell octavian wasn't too hot the idea either but you knew that you both as a team were very hard to beat when it came to combat. reyna also knew you were the only one who could be around octavian longer than anyone else at the camp.

"where are we going?" you asked. she gave you another half-enthusiastic smile, "wisconsin," you and octavian stared at each other before shaking your heads no, "it's the middle of december! we'll freeze up there!" you screamed.

reyna shook her head no, "we got you covered on all of that. seriously! the quest won't be that long and you'll be back in california before you know it!" octavian scoffed, not believing the circumstances of the quest you both were sent on.

wisconsin in the freezing december cold was not meant for camp jupiter kids. all of you were accustomed to the warm california weather at all times and being sent to the depths of the midwest sounded like a nightmare to anyone at camp jupiter.

"well, i guess we should prepare, shouldn't we?" you said as you walked back awkwardly with the sickly looking octavian. you never understood why octavian looked so frail all the time but you figured it must've been a punishment from apollo. none of the descendants of apollo were as rude or angry as octavian was and maybe you figured this was his payback.

he nodded as you soon realized that the two of you had to be out and ready for the journey by the morning. you knew reyna trusted you and octavian the most. both of you were some of the strongest in the camp and although octavian clearly wasn't her favorite person in the world, she knew that he'd protect your life even if it meant losing his in the process.

reyna was tried to be insistent on keeping romance out of the camp until all kids got out of high school. now that you and octavian were adults and running the camp along with her, she knew of the prophecy that had been given to octavian way before he could understand what it meant. octavian was bound to you before either of you knew each other even existed. venus had her weird ways of working and she could sense how close your souls were attached to each others.

everyone knew octavian was the problem child of the apollo descendants but you were one of the very few who wouldn't tolerate how octavian was. you two would argue but not in the way he would scream at others. that wasn't to say that you were meant solely for octavian. being the daughter Juno, you were stronger than most which is why reyna trusted you so much when she wasn't available and needed a second hand.

reyna had fought you before and every time she did, you were closer and closer to actually taking her spot. it wasn't an easy fight however. the two of you would walk out of each sparring session as though both of you were mauled by animals.

as the night rolled in and you were in bed, you couldn't help but roll in your covers through discomfort. you weren't a nervous person when it came to quests but something about this quest was different and you couldn't figure out why. you soon came to the conclusion that you weren't going to get a decent sleep and remained in bed, looking at the ceiling.

eventually the bright california sun shined through your cohort. you figured the faster you started the quest, the faster you'd return from the freezing cold. you had packed everything you needed the night before and all you had to do was wait for octavian to show up.

as you waited by the front of the camp, you could see octavian arguing with reyna about something. you couldn't make out what it was but from the looks of it, it seemed pretty serious.

"come on! i'm tired, annoyed, and hungry!" you screamed. they turned over to you as octavian started to slowly make his way towards you. reyna stared at octavian, a look on her face insinuating to not mess this up, "see in a few days!" you screamed to reyna before turning to octavian.

"well, let's get this damn thing going," you stated.

it took about a day to finally reach your destination. to both of your luck, the city of where the supposed threat wasn't small enough where it would give up any of your demigod abilities. the city of milwaukee was big and you could tell that if you weren't here on a quest, it'd be a fun city to explore.

"we should check out where reyna had mentioned the gang was at," you told octavian. he nodded staring down at the directions he had planned, "well, we were told that we shouldn't attack. there's more of them than us and we don't need to walk out of here dead."

you agreed as you looked down to his notes. the gang of lowlife damigods trying to wreck havoc to innocent civilians was enough to catch the attention of camp jupiter. you had no idea if they were enough of a threat to call godly attention but for the time being, you figured you could try and figure out what their plan was.

the gang was supposedly located downtown but when you arrived, you noticed that the 'gang' was only a few stupid teenagers. you stared at octavian in disbelief, "this is the gang that caused us to travel from california?" you murmured inside of your jacket.

octavian chuckled, "guess so. perhaps reyna miscalculated the threat?" he asked. you shrugged, "maybe but this doesn't seem like something reyna miscalculate on accident," you replied. the two of you noticed the four boys using their stronger than normal physical strength and relied the message to reyna as the only active threat for the moment.

the two of you kept an eye of them, not really noticing anything too out of the ordinary. you were sitting down against a wall with octavian to your left. being that it was december and the holiday season was in swing, you could hear the music playing from the shopping centers down the street.

"christmas was always my favorite holiday before i moved to camp jupiter," you murmured to octavian. his eyebrow went up in wonder, "i mean, before i realized i was a demigod and my dad died, christmas music was something i blasted on november first."

octavian nodded, "i never celebrated it before," your eyes widened in surprise, "wait, really? right, you've been at camp jupiter ever since you could remember. it's a nice holiday, even if you don't celebrate it religiously. the music and food served around this time is amazing," you explained, "gingerbread flavored coffee and the cookies dunked in milk is immaculate. you should really get out more octavian. being trapped inside camp jupiter all the time can really take a toll on someone and you're missing out on a lot of stuff."

"you can't miss what you've never experienced and the life most of you have lived is not something i ever experienced," he replied. your eyes widened at the way octavian was making himself become vulnerable, "all i've known in life was camp jupiter and i don't think it'll ever change."

you shook your head, "don't say that. maybe one day you'll fall in love," you joked. octavian's heart stop for half a second it felt like. octavian knew that you were basically clueless on a lot of the prophecy that was given to him as a kid and he didn't feel right just springing that onto you.

"i feel like we should just call it a day. its clear that they aren't a threat at least not today and we shouldn't freeze our asses off unless....," you looked down the street to see the busy downtown area. it was filled with kids ice skating in a small pond and couples walking through different stores getting their last minute christmas shopping done, "wanna check out the cool stuff?"

you knew you couldn't count on octavian to do a lot of things that weren't up to standard with camp jupiter rules so it came off as a surprise when he agreed.

the two of you walked away from the alley and walked to the street that was completely blocked off stands that were selling different things. you both snuck in through a back entrance and swiped some wristbands when realized that this seemed like a market or fair.

"how can people just stand here in the cold and sell things for hours? it's like twenty degrees out!" you screamed. you wrapped the purple camp jupiter cardigan closer as you pulled up the hood of the unzipped jacket, "when you leave in these conditions i guess it's easier to adapt to the weather."

you nodded in agreement as you both approached the first stand, "why are all these stands here for?" you asked the lady in front of you. she gave you a confused look, "its the december stand fair. with wristbands both of you have, you get to try all of the food and drinks offered here."

you stared at octavian in excitement, "ready to try mortal food?" you joked. octavian rolled his eyes in fake annoyance, "would you like to try my infamous christmas bread? it's made with almonds and the best buttery bread you can find here."

the both of you took a sample of the yellow loaf of bread and stuffed it in your mouth, "these are amazing, my goodness!" you exclaimed to octavian as he agreed. you thanked the lady as you grabbed octavian's wrist and dragged him to the next interesting stand.

"try our famous christmas cold brew! it's infused with spicy ginger! "our world renowned christmas brownies has won three state awards, please give it a try!"

by the time you and octavian finished with all the stands, the two of you were beyond stuffed. you and octavian had finished off the fair with two large cups of hot chocolate while sitting down at a bench and enjoying the music that was playing.

"this is the most fun i've had in months," you told octavian with a smile brighter than he had ever saw, "i could say the same. the mortal world isn't too bad. it's better than being around those greek idiots," he replied.

octavian saw the lyrics of the song that was playing and couldn't help but try and sing along to it. being the descendant of apollo meant that it was fairly quick to follow along to any song or instrument that was put in front of them.

"i'm dreaming tonight of a place i love, even more than i usually do. and although i know it's a long road back, i promise you i'll be home for christmas. you can count on me, please have snow and mistletoe and presents by the tree."

your eyes widened at how well octavian was singing to the song. you had never heard him sing before but you figured that because of who he was related too, his ability to sing was a lot better than others. octavian on the other hand felt his face flush to a slight red shade.

"octavian, you're an amazing singer, holy shit," you whispered. he chuckled nervously, "i'm alright. it's one of the only weaknesses i'll ever admit too," he replied. you waved him off, "octavian, that's not a weakness, you're amazing! how come you've never sang like that back at camp?"

"i'd never let those idiots hear that. they aren't worthy of hearing it" he stated. you growled in annoyance, "octavian, seriously! your voice is insane. are you sure you've never heard that song?" he shook his head no, "apollo really gifted you the power of singing for you never to sing publicaly? you're insane for that."

the song continued as you watched all the couples dancing to the song slowly, "do you ever think of how it must feel to be in love? it's not really something i've ever wanted desperately but the feeling of just being in love sounds nice," you whispered in slight embarrassment.

"i guess but who doesn't think about that? it's not unnatural to want to fall in love. venus picks who she thinks is worthy of it," he replied. octavian stared at you as you were now looking up to him. with the snow falling down on your hair and the blow of the wind making you laugh at how it was thrashing octavian's hair everywhere, he could sense a bit of what apollo prophesied to him as a kid.

you weren't doing anything that made him nervous or agitated yet his heart was racing a mile a minute. octavian continued to stare at you almost as if he was mesmerized. when you finally realized that he was still looking down at you, that was when a voice practically screamed at him to kiss you.

he grabbed you roughly by the face and brought you in for a kiss. you were caught off guard for a moment but you quickly came back to reality and pulled away for a moment, "woah," you whispered. he nodded, "sorry, something gave me urge to do that," you replied. you shook your head, "don't apologize."

you brought him in for another kiss, this time a lot softer and more tame. you placed your hands on his face, kind of smushing his cheeks together as he reluctantly followed your lead.

"this changes nothing....i'm still me, even if i'm with you," octavian murmured with his lips still against yours, "shut up. you're going to ruin the moment," you replied making him laugh before bringing him in for another kiss.

maybe reyna's miscalculation wasn't all bad after all.

#percy jackson imagine #percy jackson fic #pjo x reader #pjo imagine #hoo imagine #hoo x reader #octavian x you #octavian imagine #octavian x reader #octavian #book tumblr

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ensnapemysenses · 2 years

Note

19 on the angsty/suggestive sentence starters post, a Lucius x male reader (if you don’t write male, fem is okay too)

When Lucius and the reader(who is a half-blood) were at Hogwarts, they used to be in a Secret relationship, but Lucius had to get married and all that, and The reader still in love with him

Please💙

Some Things Are Hard to Quit

Pairing: Lucius x Male Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI! 18+ Only!, Sex, Sexual Language, Cursing, Male-Male Relationship, Infidelity in Marriage

Masterlists

Prompt: "I loved you. Past tense."

Even though Lucius was married, he still called you on rare occasions. Each time he beckoned you responded to his call with great haste, dropping everything to be there. Usually, he just wanted a quickie and you happily obliged. It reminded you of the time back at Hogwarts when you two would slip off in secret for some quick alone time together. Back then, you had been in a secret romantic relationship, that was until Lucius ended things.

Being one of the last purebloods he had a duty to his family that he had to carry out; get married and produce offspring. As advanced as the magic community is compared to the muggle one, there still is no way for two men to have biological children, and you yourself are a half-blood anyway, not that it mattered much in the grand scheme of things. Lucius was and still is determined that he must continue in the ways of his family before him and he broke your heart in the process.

Deep down, you believe that he holds some form of love for you still. Otherwise, why would he continue to call you up for sex every now and then? You hold out hope that maybe one day he will accept his feelings and leave his wife, leaving you to raise his child with him alone.

You know that hope is slim, he seems relatively happy with her, but every time he corners you, your hard cocks rubbing together as you grind into each other during a passionate make-out session, you can’t help but think that maybe she can’t satisfy him the way you can. Maybe, just maybe, that is enough for him to one day realize that he would be better off with you.

Tonight was no different. Lucius had called upon you, for the third time this week, in fact. Now, he was thrusting into your hole violently, his cock pressing up against your prostate each time. The sensation was both painful and pleasurable, just the way Lucius likes you to take him.

“UH! Lucius! I’m coming! Lucius!” you scream in pleasure as you near your climax.

“Shh now, my prince. You need to last a little longer for daddy. Can you do that?” Lucius says, slowing his pace just a bit.

“I’ll try,” you say through gritted teeth as you attempt to hold back your floodgates.

Lucius caresses your head, running a hand through your hair before gripping it and pulling your head back. You groan in pleasure at the sensation.

“Such a good little whore,” he tuts. “You will come when I command you, got it?” he sneers.

“Yes, sir!”

“Good boy,” Lucius says with a smile.

The next moment, Lucius is pounding into you again, his long white hair disheveled and falling into his face. By the change in his force and rhythm you know he’s going to finish soon, but so are you. You hold back your orgasm with all your strength, you don’t want to disappoint him.

“You can come on the count of three. One. Two. Three.”

Both of you orgasm at the same time, Lucius groaning as his hot seed flows into you and you scream his name as yours gets all over his freshly washed white sheets. As you near the end of your climax, ‘I love you, Lucius' falls from your lips. You regret saying it the moment it does as Lucius stills and rolls away from you.

“We aren’t boys sharing in the pleasure of a secret romance anymore, (Y/N),” Lucius sneers.

“I - I still love you, Lucius! What is this all about if it’s not love?” you question.

“I loved you. Past tense. We are over now. This, all of this, is just simply a means of pleasure!”

“What about your wife then? Does she know about your other means of pleasure?”

“Actually, yes she does.”

“And she's fine with it?”

“More than fine, in fact, she’s got her own little playmates on the side as well.”

“I’m just some playmate to you! Fuck you, Lucius!” you scream. You hurriedly gather your things and redress. “Don’t bother calling for me again. I won’t come.

“I think,” Lucius starts, a hand trailing down your face causing you to shudder, “we both know that you will.”

Rushing away, you apparate back to your home, deep down you know that Lucius is right. You will return when he calls you again no matter how much you hate it. Some things are just hard to quit.

#lucius malfoy #lucius x reader #lucius x male reader #lucius smut #not sfw #lucius malfoy smut #ensnapemysenses

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arunikas · 2 years

Text

ーolgami

That one time Hinata let herself act impulsively, she never thought it would cost her a bombardment of constant, overwhelming desires she never allowed herself to think of dwelling into.

Being a college student is hard enough. But being a broke college student is on another level of headache, not to mention that her college life is basically hanging on the thin thread of her scholarship. It's always so packed with endless assignments, nonstop pulling all nighters, and part time jobs at one place after another.

And when her body betrayed her into refusing to work due to the excessive amount of labor hours and then the stress level hit its peak; Ino had successfully convinced her to do that one thing she always cringed out whenever Ino brought it up during their pillow talk session in their bedroom dorm.

"Aw, c'mon Hina~ being a sugar baby doesn't always require you to use your body! There are some daddies out there just wanting a companion in a fancy dinner or just a casual date or basically just wanting somebody to spoil their money on." Ino had said.

"There are some, Ino. Not all." I rolled my eyes, "And we never know which type I'll end up meeting."

"No no no! Didn't I tell you? This one guy is a friend of Sai. You remember him, right? The sugar daddy I met last Friday?"

"That one whitey?"

"Hey don't mock him!"

"I just said exactly as one of the things you described him to me."

Ino only grinned sheepishly when she remembered, "Hehe I kno–no no! That's not the point!"

It was my cue to pull up my fluffy blanket, ready to wrap my sore muscles into a warm cocoon after a long, tiring day at class and work. I knew there's no ending when Ino started this topic. Not until the lack of response I give her when I already fall asleep.

I tucked my head lower to nest on the warmth I’d yearned the whole day while half-mindedly listening to Ino’s a to z explanation as to why I should try meeting this one guy she’d been pestering my hearing at least for the past week. My mind was already half-drifted to sleep as I catched a few key words about said guy: blond, blue-eyed, and ultra rich. The kind of those old-money bastards.

“Sai said he just wants a companion for a dinner, no more than–”

“What’s this? You’re still in touch with this Sai guy?” I narrowed my eyes, demanding an explanation.

Ino only stared at me as she twirled her hair, pink dusted her cheeks, and a shy smile plastered on her lips–things that don't belong to an Ino.

“Oh c’mon, No. You’re kidding right?”

“Huh why? Is there a problem with that?”

“There definitely is. Where’s that one absolute rule you kept telling me about?” Now I sat up to look at her more closely, “The holy ‘one day rule’?” I pushed. “‘Which is to only meet a sugar daddy for a day and become a complete stranger after’,” I recited that line like a verse from the bible, reminding her just in case she forgot.

“Well, we never know, Hina.” She ended her excuse with a naughty wink.

“Wow, what a great excuse for the one who is always so adamant about rules.”

“Is that a note of sarcasm I just heard?” she narrowed her eyes.

Hearing that response, I folded my arms across my chest and looked at her deadpanned, “A note? It was a whole-ass melody.”

“Hey!” she threw her Elmo plushie at my face but I blocked right before it hit my head. We laughed.

“But really, be careful, No.”

“I am.”

Hearing her replying with such confidence gave me a waft of relief somehow. I gave her a curt smile before standing up to take my glass of water–

Huh?

Thud!

“Oh My Gosh! Are you alright?!”

My vision went blurry for a few seconds as I landed on the floor, feeling the world spinning below me. I felt Ino grabbing my arms to help me stand but I squeezed her hand instead. Not that I want to stay in that position.

I can’t.

I closed my eyes, and opened, and closed again. Trying to grasp back my focus before trying to process what exactly just happened.

“You okay?!”

“Yes,” I said simply.

“See? Your body can’t even make it to stand. You’ve forced yourself too far, Hina.” She was genuinely concerned. I was aware. But I didn’t know how to reply to that because first, it was true. And second, if I admit it she’d continue pushing her agenda to make me meet that blond daddy she kept telling me about.

“I told you, it’s a good opportunity. He has the money you need. And you only need your presence to accompany him for a day. Then you can rest for days without worrying about part-time-shits for a while.”

See? She always brings this up.

Ino waited for me though I still didn’t reply. But this time, I–surprisingly–just found another reason not to; which is, third, it finally just hit me of how tempting that offer is.

“You need your deserved rest, Hina. Mid-term exam is coming up and you definitely can’t fail this, right?”

I stared at her and she knew that she was so so right.

She sighed, “That’s why you need to recover. And study. You can get all those at once just by ‘sacrificing’ a day.”

I fiddled with the hem of my sweater, brain working extra careful in contemplating this offer. I bit my lower lip it became white by the pressure, saying, “You sure he doesn’t want anything else?”

“I’m positive.”

“No s–sleeping together?” my voice was small and uncertain. Explicitly saying it was kinda embarrassing.

“No. Just a date, or a dinner. You name it.”

I held my breath. “Okay.”

And that is the root for all the mess I’ve been going through after that…date? Dinner? I don’t know.

Then here I am–after a whole week has passed since that first and (should be) the last time we met–standing with my super ordinary outfit, hair as plain as how my clothes look–without even a small arrangement whatsoever. Student ID on my hand, a canvas tote bag slings over my left shoulder; I try to catch my breath as I make a sudden halt from my jog to the library and freeze completely when my eyes land on him.

That one guy I met last Saturday night. Blond hair shines golden under the sun and blue eyes beam the brightest light I have never seen on anything else before.

He looks simple in his denim jeans and black shirt. Both sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, the veins around his forearms protrude and flex as he folds his arms across his chest.

He looks simple, leaning without a care in the world on his black Bugatti La Voiture Noire–as if it is a common car anyone could afford– and the very car we drove together exactly a week ago. Also, the only car name, or type, or whatever, I ever manage to remember after I read its name last week.

He looks simple, even when he lifts his left hand checking the time at his Rolex circling his wrist.

He looks…simple?

Really…? Is that the right word?

Then I check again, to all the things surrounding him.

“Haha..ha..ha..” I breathe, “Simple my ass.”

I stare at him again and ‘simple’ is such a vulgar insult.

He is so fucking not normal. So crazy gorgeous yet intimidating. Extremely attractive yet so mysterious.

Everything about him makes me shrink like a tiny feeble drowning to the endless ocean.

When chills run down my spine, I snap myself out of it, deciding to hurriedly run away before those eagle blue eyes catch a glimpse of my presence.

Huh? What makes me think that he, the almighty Uzumaki Naruto, is looking for me? Here? Right now? He might be looking for his friend…? Or another girl…? I’m sure he has thousands of reasons to be standing leisurely there and me, the nobody Hinata Hyuuga, is definitely not upon that list.

My feet have already gathered all their strength to walk away until–holy shit–those blue eyes clash with mine.

Then a smirk makes itself seen on his lips.

Then they mouth ‘found you’ that I somehow manage to make out.

Then that God-carved body moves, walking, leaving his million dollar sport car to me, a mere nobody like me.

I look around, just in case there’s somebody else around me he is actually walking toward, but nope. There’s only me in his line of sight.

Then our eyes engage in such intense staring as I feel everything around me stands still, the time seems to stop to stare at us.

“You are not even going to say hi?” he speaks. He speaks.

I snap.

W-When did he…?

“Or are you too stunned to even speak?” he smirks, satisfaction brimming from his voice.

I stare at him. There's lump in my throat, rendering me unable to utter even a single word. My brain seems to crash as I grip on the sling of my tote bag seeking for an anchor.

Tik.

Few seconds pass by and he still stands there solemnly while eyeing me with such an intense, overwhelming gaze.

“Say somethin’, Nata.” He talks like silk, yet there’s this weird, implicit dominance emitting from his husky voice–which is so scandalously inviting–that makes me helplessly obey whatever he says.

“Y-Yes?”

Damn the power he holds over me.

Damn that nickname he gave specially for me.

Dammit. This man is so fucking dangerous.

Goddamit.

He chuckles.

Oh fuck.

He dips his hand into his back pocket and takes something there. Oh fuck that flexing forearm. If I grow a kink for a fucking arm, this bastard right here is solely the one to blame.

Another step forward is taken, his shiny shoes land on either side of mine, caging my feet within his presence. He towers over me as I try so hard not to choke myself due to my almost-snapping self-restraint to breathe this man in. His pheromone definitely does something to me. It’s so intoxicating.

Suddenly, without any warning whatsoever, he traces his back fingers down my right, slender forearm. A familiar warmth settles upon my hand as he grasps it, sending me a wild surge of awakenings from his mere touch–of how he touched me the other time.

“Here,” he whispers, his breath feels nice on top of my head.

My brain still can’t process what he does, or whatever the thing he hands me until I feel something slip through my fingers and he moves in reflex to catch it.

“Woops, careful babe.”

His affectionate voice lands upon my ears and I’m so so so doomed.

“Phone?” I ask, confused.

“Yours.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t you break your phone? You didn’t pick up my calls at all.”

Are you serious?! Dude?!!

“It’s the only reasonable explanation, isn’t it?”

I snort–mentally, of course.

“I could have gone to you the first time I made my–unfortunately–failed call but I was aboard that day. Sorry, I couldn’t make it anytime sooner than this.”

He suddenly takes the phone from my grip and leans closer, hand finding its way to tuck it inside my jeans’ back pocket until he finishes it with a gentle pat that stays a second too long there. “Can’t afford you breaking this one too, can we?” his whispers feel ticklish on my ears. A sudden rush of heat come surging to the tips of my ears, or my face in general, or my whole body–whatever, but I swear to God, I can bet that they look so red red right at this fucking moment.

“W-What–”

“I also have a lot of things to talk about. Let’s meet tonight?” he smiles and I know it wasn’t an offer. It was an order. Woah, such confidence should be a crime, no?

I focus my sight on the black shirt only a few inches away from my nose tip, trying as hard as I can to not imagine any unnecessary things, such as what lies beneath that mere fabric–oh fuck. I really need to stop thinking at all.

I can’t see it but it feels so obvious that he roots his gaze at me until his hand comes to tuck my hair behind my ear with such delicacy. Yet I can’t control the goosebumps standing on edge all over my body as his hand brushes slightly on my cheek.

“And the sweet marks I made down there are almost vanished completely. We might as well renew it later,” he says as his eyes glancing on my exposed neck.

I haven’t even made up my mind to utter a single reply when another attack–which is a quick peck on my temple and a simple ‘see you’–made their way to me. Then I see him walking backward with both his hands tucked inside his pockets and a smirk on his lips as if emphasizing his absolute glory in making my whole being a complete bust with his brief presence.

He tops this goodbye with a wink then swiftly turns around, walking toward his car and driving to the main road. The humming of its machine booms inside my whole world until it finally vanishes in the distance.

I don’t even realize how long I stand like a statue there until my watch beeps, reminding me of my original destination to get the anatomy book I’ve been queuing for two weeks to borrow.

What makes him so confident that I would come to see him again? I wonder. Even though Ino–the one who made the ‘one day rule’–has broken it herself, but I’d made myself clear to hold onto it ‘til the very end before I decided to jump right into this whirlpool of rich people shit.

“Huh? Where’s my student ID?” I rummage through my tote bag as the librarian waits to scan my ID. “I was sure I held it before I jogged here, but then–” oh shit. Holy fucking shit.

It’s only then I got the answer.

Damn that sly fox.

#naruhina fanfiction #writing warm up #I need unhinged mf Naruto 😵🧡#him being possessive aggressive would be the death of me

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morrisxn02 · 5 months

Text

c'est lâche, mon grand, on te dira c'est l'âge (self-para) (sort of)

tl;dr: therapy is now in session for your favorite (???) rich boy (said no one, ever) and succession-character-wannabe, walmart roy! and the diagnostic is absolutely scandalous !!! (not really) (this is just a lil funny thing as a follow-up to the rave and a pre-summer self-para) - this was on my drafts for waaaay too long and i just forgot to post it ic date: the week after the rave, before the commencement gala. tw: brief mention of drug use, anxiety

disclaimer: i wanted this thread to be more dialogue-centric, not a full-on para, so that's why there's very little about eddie's or dr. reichmann's thought processes here.

(...)

“It's been a while...” Dr. Helena Reichmann, Ph.D. asks as she sips on her chamomile tea.

He nods.

“You seem anxious.”

“No. I'm all right.” He immediately stops fidgeting his feet.

"You texted me at 6AM on a Sunday morning saying you needed to talk. Want to start with that?"

He remains silent for a moment.

"I thought I had done something very... Um, messed up. But I was wrong."

She says nothing. He understands, she wants him to explain.

"It's nothing really. Don't worry." His voice trembles a bit. Her brows crease. "I was on drugs."

“You mean marijuana?” She knows he is prone to using weed occasionally. But that is not what he means.

"No."

"You used heavy drugs?" The disbelief in her tone is almost funny.

“I went to a rave. I took molly for the first time.” A smoke screen.

"So you were under the influence and you thought you had done something messed up?" She mirrors his tone.

He just nods. She takes notes.

“And how did that feel? The molly.”

“I don’t know.” He lies again, not so well this time. She writes it down.

“Did you enjoy it?”

“I did.”

“Do you want to do it again?”

“I’m not sure.”

She takes note.

“Let's get back to that, though. What was it you thought you had done?”

“Nothing, really. I just thought I had told someone something that I shouldn't.” He starts fidgeting again. She writes it down.

He cannot tell her about G. Too much at stake. Things even she doesn’t know.

"Well, I'm having a hard time believing you. You are clearly anxious about it..."

“Don’t you have some meditation technique that I can use, then?”

“No. And even if I did, we both know that kind of thing doesn't work for you.”

“Well, I don’t know, doesn't matter." She doesn't buy what he is selling. "Let's talk about something else.”

“Listen, the only way to help you is by understanding what happened. We won't get anywhere if you keep things from me."

He says nothing. She sighs.

“And do you have anyone you can talk to about this, at least? Someone you trust?”

“Lucas and Océane.”

“I mean at school.” Her tone is reprimanding. She knows he knows what she means.

“No.”

“Well, you should.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Don’t you feel like you need that? That you need someone to talk to?”

“I’ve already got someone.”

“Someone that is not 3000 miles away?”

“I talk to them all the time. It’s almost like they’re here.”

“No, Edward, it’s not, and you know it.”

Silence. He stares at her, face completely blank. Devoid of any sort of expression that can help her lead their conversation down a specific path. She rolls her eyes.

“You are very challenging, do you know that?”

“Are you supposed to say that to a patient?”

“If I think that’s what they need to hear, then yes.”

“And what, exactly, makes me challenging?”

She doesn't answer, instead she pushes him, “Is Cara like this? Was Greer?”

“Is.”

“Sorry? Who is?”

“Greer. You used the wrong tense.”

“Edward…” She has been subtly trying to prepare him for the worst. For the bad news, if it ever comes to. Which, she is pretty sure, is only a matter of time.

“Is Greer like this?” He insists, voice unbending, words coming in pregnant pauses to reinforce the imposition. Treating Greer like she was dead was the one thing that would get him to storm out of her clinic.

“Are Cara and Greer like this?” She half-concedes.

“Like what?” She likes to push him. He likes to push her back.

“Resolute.” It sounds like that word has been very carefully chosen. And he picks up on it.

“You mean stubborn?” He fires back, a smirk on his face.

She nods.

“Yes.”

“The three of you?”

He nods. She writes it down.

“And have you tried getting close to Cara? Last time you were here, you told me you would.”

“Yes.”

“And-?“

“What do you think?”

“Bad?”

“Not too bad. Not good either.”

“Hm. And do you think you two can get along?”

“Don’t know… Can’t tell yet.”

“Who doesn’t know, Edward? Who can’t tell?” She heavily emphasizes the pronouns. Almost as though she were a detective pressing a fellon to reveal the name of their accomplice.

“What do you mean? Me.”

“It’s intriguing to me how sometimes you don’t see yourself as the subject of your own actions.”

“Don’t use Freud on me.”

“I’m just saying… Whenever you talk about your family, you tend to eclipse the first person. Always happens...”

“Can you change the subject, please?”

“Do you think you envy her?” She pushes further. “Cara? Do you think you wish you were more–“

“Can you change the subject, please?” He insists, more incisively this time.

“Sure.” She grins triumphantly.

Any patient in their right mind would walk straight out of there. Not Edward, though. Edward likes that she can see through him. Edward likes that she treats their sessions like a game.

“Finals are right around the corner, right?"

"Yes."

"And I assume we're only seeing each other after your summer break now, correct?"

"Mhm."

"Are you still going to Manhattan for the summer? To work with your father?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“The fuck do you mean? “Why”? Because that’s what he wants me to do.”

“Watch your tone.”

“Sorry.”

“You know, you only curse in our sessions when we’re talk–“

“Don’t.” He interrupts her.

She chuckles.

“Is that what you want to do?”

He doesn’t answer. She writes it down.

“Are you excited?”

“Sure.”

“Because it’s what you have to do, right?” She mimics his way of saying it, emphasizing the word have – it’s something he has said to her a dozen times before, and it always sounds like a burden. A cross he is involuntarily caring.

“You know it.” He replies with debauchery.

She shakes her head. Then writes again.

“Tell me, what is it that you’re looking forward to doing during your summer recess?”

“I’m going to Marseille in August.”

“With–?“

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s very nice.”

They both smile. Modest, but genuine. A truce. She is truly happy to hear that. He is truly happy to say it. She likes them. They're good for him.

“Edward, our time is over for today. But before you go, I want to tell you something.”

He rolls his eyes, and the smile immediately disappears.

“You need to find a balance between taking yourself too seriously and not taking yourself seriously at all. You are only 20 years old, Edward. You’re allowed to live your life like a 20-year-old.”

His face starts to burn.

“You need to stop rationalizing your feelings. You need to let yourself have a good time every once in a while. And, most importantly, you need to think about yourself. About what you really want to do with your life.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a smart kid, Edward," She knows he enjoys the adulation, and she does it almost as if she is laying the groundwork for what will follow. "You know exactly what that means. You just want me to spell it out to you.”

“I’m waiting.”

"Remember what I said about not using the first person when your family is involved? That's what I mean. It's like you're not in the driver's seat of your own life sometimes..." She fires, a grin on her face. Well, he did ask for it...

He swallows hard, fighting the urge to nod in confirmation.

“There's more important things you should be worrying about than not getting drunk with your friends every once in a while, or always being top of the class. Instead, try putting more effort into figuring out who you are, what you want, and what makes you happy. Instead of caring so much about what others expect of you, or who they want you to be.”

They stay in silence for a few more seconds. That is exactly the reaction she is hoping for.

“Goodbye, Edward. Do me the kindness of telling my next patient I'm ready for her on your way out. You have my number if you need me before September.”

“Goodbye, doctor Reichmann.”

Before he walks out, she speaks again. “And, please, enjoy your summer.”

He nods, finally. Then leaves.

#self para #this has been in my drafts for so long and i hadn't had the time to finish it #anyway

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morrigan-sims · 9 months

Note

Please talk about your oc 🥺🙏 I'd love to hear all abt him

Panic!!! Hi!!!!!

Rook is my Swashbuckler Rogue for the DnD campaign I'm currently playing. He's a half-elf, and the bastard son of a nobleman, and the love of my life.

putting this under the cut because it's going to get SO LONG

His father and step-mother thought he was a huge embarrassment, so they weren't exactly his biggest fans. (If you see me tag his posts as "Adrian Lockwood", that's his birthname.) He ended up running away at age 17 and joining the crew of a pirate ship named the Tide Breaker under Captain Zara. He looked up to her immensely, and she taught him everything he knows about sailing and swordsmanship. She also gifted him his magic rapier.

He was promoted to first mate a few years later, which some people didn't take kindly to, since he was the youngest on the ship. He said anyone who had an issue could challenge him to a duel, and thought that would solve the problem. It didn't quite, and a few months later some of his crew mates bought him a drugged drink and sold him to a rival pirate captain, a cruel woman by the name of Captain Kora Wolf.

He was on board her ship, the Sea Snake, for two years before he managed to escape, setting the ship on fire in the process. Captain Wolf swore to hunt him down and kill him if he ever escaped, and he can only imagine how much more angry she is now that her ship was damaged.

He ran away to the Feywild, where he met up with the adventuring party and has been with them ever since.

He's generally a pretty easy-going guy. Kind, good sense of humor, always down to chat, he makes friends easily. He's a little bit superstitious, and believes every ship should have a ship's cat, or else it's Bad Luck.

He's very impulsive, often to the degree of recklessness. Sometimes it seems like he has no fear of death. He does, it's just that everything he's ever done, from leaving home to joining a pirate ship to joining an adventuring crew he'd only known for a few hours, has been because of his fear of being stagnant and bored. He wants to do interesting things and see the world, and if that leads to an untimely death, then hopefully it was worth it.

He's also claustrophobic because of the time spent in a tiny room on the Sea Snake.

Just last session he got possessed and almost killed three of his part members, including poisoning one of them with fey scorpion venom he's been carrying around for 11 sessions that I had kind of forgotten about. He feels absolutely awful about it, and is lowkey mad that his party members didn't knock him out if that was what it took to stop him from hurting people.

Oh, and Captain Wolf who kidnapped him is known as "Aunt Kory" to two of the party members (including the one who got poisoned), so that's going to be interesting when we meet her.

Me and another player also decided that Rook's closest friend in the party is the party's 40-something year old werewolf gunslinger, who Rook looks up to for having his life put together. Rook kind of sees him as a dad, in a way.

Oh, and our next dungeon is circus-themed, and I gave the DM the idea for a mirror-maze fight where you have to roll a d4 to see if you even hit the real image. (Kind of like a Mirror Image spell, but applied to the whole fight.) And the DM said I might get Boots of Haste after this dungeon!! And another party member is planning to buy me nice armor, because I'm the party's only melee fighter and my AC is a measly 15.

Here, have some images:

Image Collage that fits him well.

Art I commissioned from the lovely and amazing @/saplingdraws here on tumblr.

#panicsimss #ask morrigan #oc asks #oc: Rook #oc: Adrian Lockwood #dnd characters #sorry for dumping a novel on you Panic. If you read the whole thing I am giving you the biggest hugs!#(that goes for anyone btw.)

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steddieworks · 11 months

Text

you can change (right next to me) - iv

hi!! I'm so sorry that it has taken me forever and a day to update but life has just been busy and hectic lately! I also haven't really been in the mood for writing lately, and I didn't want to post something half-assed just to say i've posted

that being said... here's chapter 4 of the tutor au! things got away from me this chapter and so i'm fairly certain the new chapter count will be a bit longer, but we'll just have to see how the next couple of them go!

happy reading!

read on ao3

Summary:

Steve’s got a soft look on his face when Eddie meets his gaze. “I think I’m ready to go to the doctor for my hearing problems,” he whispers.

Eddie grins, and knows that he probably looks ridiculous, but he literally can’t help it. Steve is being brave - braver than Eddie would ever be, probably, and doing the things that scared him, and Eddie can only hope that someday he’ll be able to do that too.

or,

Steve makes a decision.

Word Count: 10.8k

Warnings: swearing, mild smut, discussions of disabilities

It takes about a week for Steve to make up his mind about the hearing thing.

And in that week, Eddie feels tortured, or maybe blessed, with Steve wearing his glasses. He shows up to class Monday without them, but when Eddie catches him squinting at the board, he walks by and murmurs a soft, “forgetting something?”

Steve seems flustered by it, but digs them out with a huff. He glares at Eddie for a few minutes, or tries to at least, before he breaks, sliding them onto his face and giving him a soft little smile. Eddie grins, waggling his eyebrows and mouthing the word “hot” at him, which only makes Steve blush.

They’re so obvious with it that Barbera fake-gags, which embarrasses Eddie just enough to stop flirting until the end of class. He means to catch Steve before he leaves, just to check in with him and make sure they’re still on for their tutoring session the next day, but Steve is out the door before Eddie even finishes packing his bag. He tries not to take it personally, and when Tuesday rolls around and Steve does show up for their tutoring session, Eddie knows it isn’t really about him. Still, he’s not oblivious to the fact that Steve keeps things strictly business, all school-related talk and nothing else, and this trend continues for the rest of the week.

It’s Friday evening when something finally changes.

They’re at the library for their usual tutoring session, and Eddie is watching Steve as he writes the answer to one of the workbook’s questions, his hand moving slowly and carefully as he writes. It’s quiet in their little pocket of space in the corner, so Eddie notices immediately when someone approaches them on Steve’s bad side.

Not that Steve has a bad side, exactly. It’s just, like… the side he can’t hear from.

The person, who Eddie vaguely recognizes from the history lecture, says, “hey, Steve, do you happen to have the notes from Wednesday?”

Steve doesn’t reply. Doesn’t even look up.

Eddie gives the girl - Delilah? Dina? Something like that - a small smile before reaching out and touching Steve’s wrist.

“Hm?” Steve says, still not looking up.

“Honey, you’ve got a visitor,” Eddie says, voice quiet but close enough to Steve’s good ear that his gaze snaps up, then over, flushing when he sees the girl standing there.

“Oh, hey Nicole,” he says, clearly embarrassed.

Nicole? Close enough.

“Hey, Steve,” she says, clearly confused. “Um, I was just asking if you happened to have the notes from Wednesday. I had a doctor’s appointment and you’re the first person I’ve seen from that class since then.”

There’s a panic-stricken look on Steve’s face as he processes her words. “Oh, um…” he says, shuffling his papers around. Eddie knows his notebook is in his bag still, and he knows that Steve does have the notes, and yet he says, “I don’t have them with me, actually.”

“Oh,” Nicole says, her face falling. “Okay, then. Well, um. Thanks anyway.” She starts to walk away, but Eddie stops her.

“Hey, Nicole? I’ve got the notes, so I can email them to you when I get home,” Eddie tells her. His hand is still resting on Steve’s wrist, so he notices it when Steve turns his hand over, lacing their fingers together and squeezing. Eddie thinks it might be a little thank you.

“Oh, perfect! Thanks so much, Mr. Munson,” she says. “I’ll see you guys Monday!”

Eddie smiles and waves at her with his free hand, while Steve just nods at her before turning back to his work. When his pencil doesn’t move, however, Eddie frowns. “What’s the matter, baby?” he asks, speaking softly.

Steve shrugs, then sniffles, covering his face with his free hand and shaking his head.

Oh.

“Oh, babe,” Eddie sighs sympathetically, scooting his chair closer and bringing his hand up to gently rub Steve’s back. “I… I won’t pretend to know what you’re going through with this. But, can you talk to me? Tell me what part is bothering you?”

Steve shakes his head again, then seems to change his mind and nods instead. “I just…” He trembles, and Eddie waits, patiently rubbing circles onto his back and squeezing his hand again. “Now that I’m like, aware of it, I’m starting to hyperfixate on it.”

“On what?” Eddie asks, although he’s pretty sure he already knows.

“The hearing thing. Like… How many fucking times have I just sat and ignored someone because I just couldn’t fucking hear them?” He’s getting a little louder than is probably acceptable at a library, so Eddie gently shushes him. He looks sheepish for a moment, lowering his head to rest on their intertwined hands. “I just… I don’t know. I feel broken.”

Eddie’s heart fucking shatters when he hears that. He hates to imagine that Steve has been dealing with these feelings by himself for so long before now, but he knows that he probably has. The only thing he can do now is be there for him, but thinking about a younger Steve, struggling with this alone, almost makes him sick.

“I know, Stevie. I mean… I haven’t been through this, but I get the whole… feeling broken thing. But you’re not broken.” A heavy silence falls upon them, and he hopes Steve can read the subtext, because he’s just not sure if he can spell it out for him just yet.

Apparently, he doesn’t need to. Steve tilts his head, looking up at Eddie and giving him a frown. “You’re not broken, either.” Before Eddie can protest, Steve sits up straight, leaning into Eddie’s space a bit more than he normally would, his hand coming up to cup Eddie’s jaw. “No. If I’m not broken, then neither are you. We’re… we’re okay.”

Eddie gives him a little smile, and an easy agreement. “We’re okay,” he says softly. He tilts his head, catching Steve’s hand and pressing a little kiss to his palm. He just can’t help himself.

Steve’s got a soft look on his face when Eddie meets his gaze. “I think I’m ready to go to the doctor for my hearing problems,” he whispers.

He kisses Steve’s hand again, holding it in both of his and smiling at him. “I’m so proud of you,” he murmurs. “I’m serious, Steve. I know you don’t want to go, and it’s scary, but I’m so fucking proud of you for deciding that it’s worth it to try.”

Steve has a sort of bashful look on his face, but Eddie’s not backing down. He wants Steve to know, without a doubt, how supportive he is of this decision. “Well, it’s not really that big of a deal,” he mumbles.

Eddie shakes his head. “Okay, maybe not. But that doesn’t mean it’s not scary. That doesn’t mean it’s not brave to do it. And that doesn’t make me any less proud of you.” He uses Steve’s hand that he’s got trapped in his to boop him on the nose.

Steve looks sort of embarrassed, but smiles, ducking his head. “Will you go with me again?” He asks, studying their hands. He brings his other hand down to tangle their fingers together, and Eddie lets him, helpless to intervene when he’s being so sweet and touchy after so many days without it.

“Of course,” Eddie replies immediately. “Always. Anytime you need me, darlin’, I’m there.”

He watches as Steve’s face flushes, and he has to bite back a grin. He’s so easy to rile up, even when Eddie isn’t particularly trying to. “Okay,” Steve mumbles. “We should… finish this?” He sounds uncertain.

Eddie nods, though honestly he could give a fuck less about the stupid worksheet that Murray assigned. “Sure, Stevie. And I can drive you home when we’re done, if you want.”

Steve pulls his right hand away from Eddie’s to grab his pencil, but taps it on the book a few times before speaking. “I was actually thinking… Maybe I could go back to yours? And we could, um… watch a movie or something?” He sounds so hopeful, and has an air of forced nonchalance that Eddie can’t help but smirk at.

Then what he’s asking sets in. “Uh…” Eddie hesitates. Not because he doesn’t want to spend more time with Steve, or course not. But because… he’s not sure he’ll be able to maintain this quasi-friendly distance between them if they’re all alone in his apartment.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Steve mumbles after a minute of silence. “I just-“

Apparently Eddie has even less self control than he thought, because he just nods and smiles. “No, yeah. Let’s do that. You said you’ve never seen Lord of the Rings, right?” He’s mostly joking, but the wide-eyed, panicked look that fills Steve’s face then just solidifies it. “It’s a long one, so you’ll have to hurry up if you wanna be able to finish it tonight.”

Steve sighs like he regrets ever asking, but gives Eddie a little smile when he looks back down at his work. “Alright.”

~~~

Eddie doesn’t actually make Steve rush through the assignment, but he hints at the correct answers more frequently than he normally would. If Steve notices the difference, he doesn’t say anything, and when he finishes, he lets Eddie help him pack up his things without argument.

If Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d think Steve was… excited.

But surely that can’t be the case. Steve had never shown any interest in any of Eddie’s nerd shit before now, so surely there’s something else. Then again, if Steve’s excited/nervous for the same reason that Eddie himself is… that might be a problem in and of itself.

“How long did you say this movie was again?” Steve asks as Eddie is driving them away from campus, towards his apartment.

“Well,” Eddie says, hesitating. “Um… I don’t think I did.”

“What?” Steve glances at him, clearly confused.

Eddie scratches his chin awkwardly. “I didn’t say how long it was,” he admits, biting his lip a little and avoiding meeting Steve’s gaze.

“Oh,” Steve says. A few seconds later, he shrugs. “Okay.”

Eddie balks at him. Surely he’s not just giving in that easily? Without any sort of estimate about when he can expect to go home?

“Do you… not want to know how long it is?” Eddie asks. The fun has run its course if Steve’s not playing along, but Eddie had expected the joke to last a bit longer, if he’s honest.

Steve just shrugs again. “It doesn’t really matter to me,” he says casually. When Eddie glances at him, Steve is already turned to face him fully. Eddie feels a little bad for avoiding eye contact so far on the drive, realizing acutely that Steve relies on lip-reading significantly. “Are you gonna make me go home if I fall asleep during it?”

Eddie blinks at him. He can feel his face flushing a little, at even the suggestion of the alternative. That he should just let Steve sleep over, like they’re friends, when they are most certainly not.

“Um,” Eddie says, stupidly. “Probably not. For starters, that would be really shitty of you, to fall asleep during the best cinematic masterpiece of our time, and secondly,” he pauses to glance the opposite way before turning right at a stop sign. He normally wouldn’t bother, but… precious cargo. “I could never be that cruel. It’s a long one. And since it’s your first time, I’ll let it slide if you fall asleep.”

Steve makes a noise that’s a bit like a laugh or a snort, and when Eddie glances at him, he’s got a smirk on his face. “That sounded a bit dirty,” he teases.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “No, you’re just dirty-minded. Get your thoughts out of the gutter, Harrington.”

“What if I want them in the gutter?” Steve says, sly and coy.

Eddie clears his throat. “Um.”

Luckily, Steve takes pity on him. “Can we order Chinese?”

~~~

They do order Chinese, and while they wait for it to arrive, Eddie frets about setting up the movie.

“Now this is god-tier shit, alright? And there’s all these layers to the lore, so if you have a question I’ll have to pause the whole thing and-“ Eddie is explaining all this as he’s turned away, but he pauses when he turns around and finds Steve staring at him. He’s got this little smile on his lips, and it takes Eddie a second to get it. “You couldn’t hear any of that, could you?”

Steve breaks out into a full grin at that. “Not really. It sounded sort of muffled, but I got bits and pieces of it.”

Eddie shakes his head, embarrassed. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I-“

Steve steps towards him, shaking his head. “Don’t… please don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Eddie says quietly, hyper-aware of the lack of space between them.

“Don’t treat me like I’m broken. Just… treat me the way you always do.” Steve’s voice breaks, and so does Eddie’s heart.

“Oh, baby,” Eddie sighs. He reaches out for Steve, pulling him into a tight hug. Luckily, Steve goes willingly. “I’m sorry. I’m not… I’m really not trying to treat you differently, like, in a bad way. I’m just trying to be more accommodating, now that I sort of know how.”

Steve nods. “I know. I just… I really hate being like this, Eddie.”

Eddie’s heart feels like lead in his chest, his ribs too tight around the organ. “I know,” he mumbles against Steve’s hair, rubbing his back in long, smooth motions. “Well… not completely, but… I understand why you’re frustrated.”

Steve sniffles. Eddie kisses the top of his head, not even caring if Steve feels the affectionate touch. “Yeah,” he says, tiredly. “Can we just watch the movie? And… and not talk about all my problems?”

Eddie nods, but pulls back to look at him. “Okay, but let me say one last thing?” Steve shrugs, so Eddie takes that as an agreement. “You’re allowed to talk about these things with me. I know you feel weird about it, but just know that I’ll always listen if you need to talk. Okay?”

“Okay,” Steve agrees quietly. “Thanks, Eddie.”

Helpless to his own stupid urges, Eddie leans in again to kiss Steve’s forehead. “Alright. Movie time.”

~~~

The food comes as they’re gathering up pillows and blankets and all the snuggly things that Eddie can find in his apartment. They build a fort of sorts on his sofa, and between the two of them, they’re laughing and giggling at the absurdity of it all, the child-like glee from playing like kids again.

“You know, I’ve never been able to use chopsticks,” Eddie notes vaguely as they settle in to start eating.

“Really?” Steve asks, all curious and amused. “I could teach you, if you want.”

Eddie looks over at him, surprised. “Would you really?”

Steve shrugs. “Sure, why not. C’mere.”

So that’s how Eddie finds himself, sitting in front of Steve, his ass barely hanging onto the edge of the couch, Steve’s thighs bracketing his hips. Eddie’s not sure this is an entirely foolproof method, but he doesn’t argue when Steve tells him where to sit.

“Alright, so, you just hold the bottom one steady like this,” Steve explains, demonstrating on his own hand. “And then the top one is used like a pincer. You just use it to pinch your food.”

Eddie nods, turning his head so that Steve will be able to hear him. “Sounds simple enough.”

Steve smiles, reaching for his hand. “Alright, let me show you how to hold it.” He goes through the whole routine again, this time positioning the chopsticks between Eddie’s fingers instead of his own. “Okay, now try to get a piece of chicken.”

Eddie reaches forward, but nearly slides off the couch in the process. “Man, I don’t think this is the best seating arrangement you’ve ever come up with.”

“Hm?” Steve hums against his shoulder, his arm slipping around Eddie’s waist to hold him. Eddie’s not sure this will prevent him from tumbling off the couch, but he’s not about to turn down the almost-cuddle.

“I said I don’t think this is the best seating arrangement,” Eddie repeats, turning his head to the side to glance back at Steve. “Even though you make one hell of a seatbelt,” he says with a smirk.

Steve blushes, pinching Eddie’s stomach lightly. “Behave,” Steve says when Eddie squeals. “And pick up the chicken! We’re losing precious daylight hours here.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, even as he leans forward once more to try and use the chopsticks. “Fine,” he mumbles. It takes him a few tries, but eventually he does manage to pinch a piece of chicken between the ends of the chopsticks. “Look! I did it!” He cheers, turning quickly in his excitement to show Steve.

Of course, that’s exactly when the chicken slips out from between the chopsticks, landing on the floor.

Eddie sighs. “Fuck this,” he says solemnly, going to put the chopsticks down in exchange for a fork.

“Hey,” Steve protests, reaching around him to scoop the chopsticks back up. “Just because you’re trash at it now doesn’t mean you can’t learn. Here, watch what I do.” Steve carefully leans forward, his arm tightening around Eddie’s chest to hold him still. Eddie feels like he can barely breathe as he watches Steve easily scoop up a piece of chicken with the chopsticks, expertly bringing it out of the bowl without dropping it.

Eddie expects Steve to eat the morsel himself, so he’s surprised when instead, the chopsticks halt in front of his mouth. “Here,” Steve says softly.

He almost wants to tease him, but the fear of breaking the moment altogether forces Eddie to just accept it, opening his mouth and letting Steve feed him. “Mm.”

“Is it good?” Steve asks, his hand beginning to trace meaningless shapes on Eddie’s stomach.

“Yeah,” Eddie finds himself whispering, his throat feeling a little tight, and not because of the food.

What use are their stupid boundaries about kissing if they’re going to do shit like this? He wonders.

“Want to try again?” Steve asks.

Eddie shakes his head. “No, maybe next time.”

“Okay,” Steve says easily enough. Eddie expects him to push him away now, grab a fork and both of them eat like normal people.

That’s not what happens.

Instead, Steve shuffles in his seat, lifting up his legs and carefully draping them over Eddie’s. “Is this okay?” He whispers.

Eddie swallows hard, but nods. His idea of “okay” is so skewed as of now, he really doesn’t know what qualifies anymore. “Yeah, it’s okay,” he mumbles.

Steve crosses his legs over Eddie’s lap, and if Eddie didn’t feel so choked up, he’d probably laugh at the way he’s basically got a human backpack.

“Can you hold my food for me? So I don’t have to lean so far?” Steve asks, his arm tightening around Eddie’s chest.

Eddie nods, but glances back at Steve before he grabs the take-out container for him. “Are you sure it wouldn’t just be easier to sit beside me?”

Steve blushes. “I mean… yeah, it would.” He doesn’t say anything else, staring at Eddie with wide, hopeful eyes.

“I’ll take that as a no, then,” Eddie laughs, reaching for the take-out container with a hand on one of Steve’s ankles. “Here you go, baby.”

He holds the carton close to Steve’s right hand to make it easier on him, then frowns at his own plate. He’s not sure exactly how they’re going to manage it like this, to be honest. He’s pulled from his thoughts when Steve hums in his ear.

“Bite?” Steve says softly, holding out a piece of chicken at the end of his chopsticks.

“Oh,” Eddie replies, surprised. “Are you sure? I can just eat mine.”

Steve shrugs, and for a split second, Eddie thinks he feels the briefest press of lips to his shoulder blade. “We can share,” Steve suggests.

Eddie turns his head just a bit, and their noses brush with the movement. Neither of them move away. “You just want to steal some of my orange chicken,” Eddie accuses teasingly.

Steve blinks, his eyes wide and innocent. “Who, me?”

And really, what happens next is all Steve’s fault.

He licks his lips, just a quick dart of tongue against chapped pink, and Eddie’s eyes drop to follow the movement, helpless.

When his eyes flick back up to meet Steve’s, the innocent look is gone, replaced by something darker, something more intense. Steve carefully sticks his chopsticks back into the carton of chicken and rice, his thumb coming to rub the back of Eddie’s hand, pushing it towards the table.

“Put it back,” Steve says quietly, no need for volume when his breath is already caressing Eddie’s ear.

Eddie obeys immediately, leaning forward and placing the carton back on the table before attempting to twist in Steve’s grip, desperate to face him, to see what will happen next. “Steve,” Eddie murmurs, a little annoyed at the lack of movement he’s being allowed.

Steve doesn’t let him struggle for long. He wiggles to the side of Eddie, pulling his left leg with him as he goes. Eddie hears himself whine sadly, but before he can lament the loss of Steve’s warmth properly, he’s shifting again, and suddenly Eddie has a lapful of Steve Harrington.

“Um,” Eddie says, very eloquently. Thank you, English degree.

Steve is staring down at him from his new perch, his eyes a little wild. His hands are shaking a bit as he brings them up to rest on Eddie’s shoulders, but his voice is calm when he speaks. “I know we decided this was a bad idea,” he says, his voice strong and even. “But, I also think that if I don’t kiss you within the next five minutes, I might die.”

Eddie cracks a grin at that. “You think so?”

Steve nods solemnly. “You can tell me to fuck off if you really don’t want to,” he whispers, leaning in close and brushing his lips against Eddie’s cheek, right where it dimples. “But I… I’ve been thinking about it all day, and…” he pauses, pulling back just a fraction. “I happened to be looking at the student handbook for the university.”

Eddie quirks an eyebrow at that. “Oh? You just happened to be looking at that?”

Steve’s face is definitely a little pink, but he nods, apparently committed to that version of the story. “Yes. And it says that student/professor relationships are frowned upon, but not technically illegal.”

“Oh yeah?” Eddie’s heart is racing. He’s certain he’s got this deer-in-the-headlights look on his face, one that Steve must be able to read as clear as day, even with the reading difficulties he definitely possesses.

“Yeah,” Steve nods. “And since you’re not technically my professor…” His lips drag down Eddie’s jaw, nipping gently when he gets close to Eddie’s ear. “And if this is just sex, not a relationship…”

Eddie’s stomach drops a little at that, and not in a sexy way. “Oh,” he says, struggling to keep the disappointment out of his voice. But of course it wouldn’t be anything past sex - Steve is young, attractive, a star member of the university’s basketball team. He could get anyone he wants to be in a relationship with him, of course he wouldn’t want Eddie. And as pathetic as it makes him, and as much as it hurts… he knows he’s going to let Steve have this. He’s going to give him what he wants, and when he’s through with him, Eddie will allow himself to be tossed aside like trash, even though he’s already halfway in love with the guy.

But it’s that love, that endless well of adoration and desire, that makes Eddie say, “okay.”

Even though it hurts.

“Yeah?” Steve mumbles against his jaw.

Even though it fucking stings.

“Yeah,” Eddie whispers back.

He lets that be the end of their exchanging of words, reaching a hand up into Steve’s hair to gently tilt his head, guiding their lips together in a deep, wet kiss. Steve makes a soft noise into the touch, and Eddie’s other hand falls down to rest on his hip, squeezing gently. His mouth moves softly against Steve’s at first, craving the tenderness of a kiss that he knows is living on borrowed time.

“Fuck,” Steve whispers against his mouth, pulling back just a little. “Do you think we could- would you-“ He stumbles over his words, making a frustrated noise before rutting his hips down into Eddie’s, making him groan loudly.

“Steve,” Eddie says through gritted teeth. “Fuck. Don’t- you shouldn’t do that.”

Steve whines, looking down at him with wide, pitiful eyes. “Why not?” He asks. He’s definitely pouting.

Eddie drops his head back against the couch, overwhelmed with the feeling of Steve in his lap and all his blood rushing south. “God. I don’t know,” Eddie whines back, clutching at Steve’s hips desperately. He scrambles to think of something, anything, to postpone this, even for a few minutes. “Our food,” he finally says, blinking up at Steve.

Steve raises his eyebrows. “Our food?” He asks.

“It’ll… get cold,” Eddie finishes lamely.

Steve snorts, and his lips work into a grin. “Fuck the food, you’ve got a microwave.”

He dives back in for a kiss again, and really, Eddie can’t argue with that logic. His hands map a path from Steve’s hips to the back pockets of his jeans, and he’s not shy about sticking his hands in there to squeeze a good handful. “Fuck, babe,” he groans, Steve nipping at his lips. “Such a nice ass,” he mumbles, tilting his head to catch Steve’s lips again.

Steve pulls back, making Eddie whine loudly. He’d be embarrassed if he had any blood left in his brain to encourage any sort of thought process. Steve grins above him. “You should see it without the jeans. I’ve been told it’s even better that way.” He’s so fucking smug about it that Eddie has to pull his stupid face in for another bruising kiss, more than a little jealous at the mere suggestion that anyone else is seeing Steve’s ass enough to have an opinion.

And that’s stupid, not to mention possessive, of Eddie to even think that, but here they are. He squeezes Steve’s ass again before pulling his hands out of his pockets, bringing his hands around to undo his button and zipper. “Are you sure?” Eddie asks, pausing there, giving Steve every chance to back out. “You can always change your mind, Stevie.”

Eddie isn’t sure what he’s expecting Steve to say to that, but it definitely isn’t a huffy, “I know what I want, Eddie.”

“Okay,” Eddie says softly, leaning in and kissing his cheek. “Tell me, then. What do you want?”

At that, Steve’s cheeks go a little red, though Eddie can’t for the life of him fathom why. It’s not like Steve has been shy up until this point. “I…” Steve trails off, but begins moving his hips in short little bursts of movement. “I want you to touch me.”

Eddie grins, and decides that if this is the only time he gets to have this, he can be a little mean. “Touch you where, baby?”

Steve whines, high in his throat. “Eddie,” he says softly. “Don’t be mean.”

And Eddie can’t help but kiss him for that. “Sorry,” he lies against his mouth. “Should we maybe go to my room? Or do you wanna do this on the couch?”

Steve freezes in his lap, which makes Eddie pull away instantly, looking up into his face for any sign of regret. “Um…” Steve starts, avoiding Eddie’s eyes.

“Honey, what is it?” Eddie asks as he rubs a soothing hand up and down Steve’s thigh. “Talk to me.”

“I’m not ready to fuck for real,” Steve says suddenly, the words bursting out of him in a rush of panic.

Eddie gives him a reassuring smile. “Okay,” he says immediately, bringing a hand up to pet Steve’s hair back. “That’s perfectly fine, baby. Thank you for telling me.”

Steve wiggles in his lap, twin hisses leaving their mouths at the sensation. “I still want to… do something, though.”

“Okay,” Eddie says. He pauses, thinking for a minute, before he smiles at Steve. “You ever jerked off with another guy before, Stevie?”

~~~

Predictably, Steve hasn’t done that, so that’s how they find themselves ten minutes later, both of their jeans and underwear pulled down to their thighs as Eddie strokes them off together with one hand. It’s incredibly hot, his gaze torn between watching the way his cock almost dwarfs Steve’s in his grip, and admiring the way Steve stares down at their dicks, his mouth wide open in shock.

“Does it feel pretty good, baby?” Eddie asks, smirking.

Steve nods dumbly, not a single word escaping his mouth. He’s blinking sort of rapidly, and Eddie wonders if his contacts are drying out. Normally, he’d stop to ask, but they’re both too damn close to worry about something like that right now.

Eddie tightens his grip a little, their dicks slippery enough with precome and spit that they slide together, making a disgusting, perfect sound. Eddie groans, flicking his wrist as he brings the both of them closer to the edge, his mind still not entirely wrapped around the fact that this is happening. They’re having sex. Literal, cocks touching, sharing breath and spit, sweaty sex.

And Eddie loves it.

He doesn’t know how the hell he’s supposed to give it up now that he’s had it, but he knows he’ll do whatever Steve wants, always. If he tells him ten minutes from now that he never wants to see Eddie again, Eddie would probably pack his bags. If Steve proposed, Eddie would say yes in a heartbeat.

Basically, there’s nothing Eddie wouldn’t do for him at this point.

“Close, close, close,” Steve chants, dropping his head back, presenting his neck to Eddie as he loses himself in the pleasure.

Eddie takes that as an opportunity to tilt forward, kissing and biting at the exposed column of Steve’s neck like his life depends on it. “Gonna come?” He mouths against Steve’s Adam’s apple.

“Yes, yes, Eddie, fuck, please,” Steve whines, his hips undulating as he tries to fuck himself against Eddie’s cock and the palm of his hand.

“Hm, if you’re good, I’ll let you come,” Eddie teases, slowing his stroking. He kisses his way up Steve’s throat, nibbling a little at his ear. “Are you gonna be good?”

“Yes, ‘m good, I’ll be s’good,” Steve pants. “Please!”

Eddie rewards him with picking up the pace and sucking a little mark under his ear, which makes him shudder. “Mm, so good using your manners, baby,” Eddie says, his voice breathy as he tries to stave off his own climax long enough for Steve to get his. “Come for me, babe. Make a mess.”

Apparently, that’s all it takes, and Steve is shooting off against their chests, the head of his dick nestled against the edge of Eddie’s. Something about it, the look on his face, the pulsing of Steve’s dick against his, or maybe the feeling of Steve’s come dripping down his cock, makes Eddie reach his. He comes so hard he almost thinks he’s going to black out, and he knows that’s all Steve.

“Fuck,” Steve whimpers, collapsing forward against Eddie’s chest, his head resting on Eddie’s shoulder. “That was so fucking hot,” he says with a light sigh, his body totally relaxed now.

Eddie laughs, his bones feeling like jello as he slumps against the couch, running his clean hand through Steve’s hair. “Did you like it?” He asks, a little nervous for the answer, despite the physical reaction he’d gotten out of Steve.

Steve snorts. “Did I like it?” He mocks, his eyes crinkling when he smiles at Eddie. “Of course I did. That was possibly the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

And that makes Eddie nearly preen with pride. “Good,” he says. He’s still holding his right hand at an awkward angle, trying not to touch Steve with the same hand he used to jerk them both off. He glances down at Steve, who appears to be perfectly content staying there, with no sign that he intends to move anytime soon. “Hey, babe,” Eddie murmurs softly.

Steve makes a humming noise. “Yeah?”

Eddie kisses the top of his head. “How about we go get cleaned up? Would that be okay?”

“But I’m so comfy,” Steve protests weakly. He snuggles further into Eddie then, as if he’s proving his point. Instead, all this does is squish their soft cocks together and smears the come on their shirts.

“I know, but we’re kind of disgusting right now. And you can’t go home with your shirt looking like that,” Eddie explains.

Steve leans back a little, chewing his lip as he studies Eddie, a nervous tic. “Can I sleep here?”

Eddie blinks at him. “Uh… here as in… like on my couch?”

Steve’s face flickers with disappointment, but he shrugs. “Er, yeah, if that’s what you, um… yeah, that’s okay.” He stutters through what sounds like a couple different half-sentences, and Eddie can’t help but smile at him.

“Okay. Yeah, you can stay,” he says. He’d love it if Steve would just sleep in his bed, but he’s not sure that he would be comfortable with that idea. He puts the thought out of his mind, patting Steve’s back. “Okay, let’s go get cleaned, bud. And then I’ll make up the couch for you, and we can actually eat our dinner.”

Steve sighs quietly, and Eddie thinks for a terrible moment that he might change his mind, but then he says, “okay,” and shoves himself up to his feet. He looks down at his shirt, stained with both of their releases, and grimaces. “Uh, have you got a shirt I can borrow?” Steve asks.

Eddie has a very brief vision of Steve, wandering around wearing his clothes. Not even in a sexy way; no, he’s imagining Steve going to class, Eddie’s favorite Metallica tee hugging his broad shoulders. He wonders if everyone in the class would realize it wasn’t Steve’s shirt.

“Yeah,” he croaks out when he realizes Steve is staring at him, waiting. “Yeah, um. We can- there’s clothes in my room,” he says, feeling dumb for even saying that. Obviously that’s where his clothes are. God, he’s stupid.

Steve gives him a little smirk. “Lead the way,” he says easily, stepping back and waving his hand with a flourish.

Eddie shoves himself off the sofa, tucking himself back into his underwear but leaving his jeans unbuttoned. It feels like a lot to make the trip to his room like this, fucked out and filthy, with Steve Harrington trailing behind him, humming fucking - “Steve, is that ABBA?” Eddie asks, tilting his head back enough to look at him, allowing every bit of judgment to seep into his expression.

“Uh,” Steve stalls, and Eddie feels him step on his heel, probably on purpose. “Maybe.”

Eddie shakes his head as he tugs off his shirt, chucking it at the laundry basket in the corner of his bedroom as he steps inside. “Can’t believe you’re singing ABBA in this household. That’s basically sacrilege, you know.” He pilfers through his drawer of all his best band t-shirts, plucking out his very favorite and tossing it to Steve. “Don’t lose this, it’s my favorite,” he warns loudly without looking at him, going back to find himself something.

“Oh, I don’t- you don’t have to give me your favorite shirt, Eddie,” Steve says, despite the fact that he’s putting it on when Eddie turns around. “I’d wear whatever, really.”

And damn, Eddie was right. It really is a sight to see, Steve stood there in his t-shirt, looking at Eddie with those big beautiful eyes. If Eddie wasn’t so spent, his cock would probably be twitching in his pants.

“It’s fine,” he says, shucking off his jeans and grabbing a pair of sweatpants for each of them. “I wanted to see King Steve in a peasant’s clothing, at least once,” he jokes. He’s not sure Steve even remembers that, the whole “King Steve” joke from their high school days, but he doesn’t see the harm in it.

That is, until he catches a look at Steve’s devastated face.

“Stevie?” he asks softly, stepping closer to him. “Did I- what did I say?”

Steve shakes his head, dragging in a deep, shuddering breath. “N-nothing. Just… don’t call me that.” His voice is low, but serious, even as he adds a softer, “please.”

Eddie reaches out, relieved when Steve doesn’t flinch away from the contact. He grips his elbow, rubbing his thumb along the inside crease, and waits for Steve to meet his gaze. “Okay,” he says quietly, watching Steve as he watches his mouth. “I’m sorry, Steve. I didn’t think about it.”

Steve nods, and Eddie can’t help but coo when he steps closer for a hug. “Sorry,” Steve mumbles against his shoulder. “Hate bein’ sensitive about shit like that, but-”

“Hey, no,” Eddie says, pulling away just enough to get a good look at his face. “I want you to tell me when I cross a line, okay? Because sometimes I don’t realize it. Always tell me, alright?” He kisses Steve’s hair, subtle enough that hopefully he doesn’t even notice it.

“Okay,” Steve says quietly before tugging out of his embrace. It’s sooner than what Eddie prefers, and he aches to have him back in his arms the moment Steve is missing from them. He realizes he’s still just standing there in nothing but his ruined t-shirt and boxers, and the distinct embarrassment of being half-naked while Steve is fully dressed is enough to kick him into gear.

“Here,” Eddie says, holding out the extra pair of sweatpants after he’s tugged his own up his legs. “Unless you want to just sleep in your underwear,” he says, trying not to meet Steve’s eyes.

“These are fine, thanks,” Steve replies, and Eddie forces himself to look away when Steve begins tugging his jeans off.

A few minutes later, they’re both dressed in far more comfortable attire, and Eddie is starving. He leads the way back down the hall to the living room, scooping up their boxes of food and taking it straight to the kitchen to be reheated.

“We’ll have to start the movie over,” Steve says from behind him. When Eddie glances over his shoulder, he finds Steve standing there with his arms crossed, leaning against the doorway between the kitchen and living room.

Eddie grins as he sets the timer on the microwave. “You’re a man after my own heart, Stevie. I figured you’d try to pull the wool over my eyes and pretend you’d been paying attention the whole time.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but it’s playful. “Hard to pay attention when I’ve got you coming all over my cock, hotshot,” he says, smirking.

Eddie gulps, almost choking on his own spit as he turns to stare at the food rotating in the microwave. He’s not sure how to come back from that one, his brain moving too slowly in the wake of a good orgasm to even come up with a smooth retort. “Well,” Eddie says after an awkward moment of silence. “This time we have to pay attention to the movie. No distractions.”

The microwave beeps, and he carefully takes out the boxes, turning to find the smirk on Steve’s face hasn’t lessened. “No distractions. Scout’s honor.”

~~~

Scout’s honor, my ass, Eddie thinks nearly an hour later.

They’ve long since finished their food, and although Steve had managed to follow along the first part of the movie with minimal questions, Eddie can tell he’s losing patience, wiggling in his seat and casting glances at Eddie repeatedly. Eddie was serious though, he doesn’t stand for menial interruptions during Lord of the Rings time, and won’t pause it for anything less than an emergency.

“Eddie,” Steve whispers after another ten or so minutes of fidgeting.

Of course, hearing his soft voice, all of Eddie’s concerns fly straight out the window. He turns to him with a little smile, raising his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

Steve picks at a loose string at the seam of his borrowed sweatpants. “Can you pause it for just a second? I need to brush my teeth and stuff, in case I fall asleep.”

Eddie gives him a playful glare. “You can’t fall asleep during the movie, it’s against the rules!”

Steve rolls his eyes, but drops his head back and whines, playing along perfectly. “But I’m so sleepy,” he argues, batting those pretty little eyes at Eddie.

And of course Eddie can’t argue with that. “Okay, fine. I’ve probably got a spare toothbrush somewhere.” He starts to shove himself off the sofa, but Steve’s voice stops him.

“Oh, that’s okay, I’ve got one.”

Eddie pauses, turning slowly to look at Steve. He’s trying so, so hard not to grin. “You just happened to bring one with you?” He drawls, quirking an eyebrow at him.

Steve’s cheekbones flush with color, and Eddie can’t help but poke at them playfully. “Yes, I did,” Steve says petulantly, slapping Eddie’s pestering hands away.

“But you didn’t know you were staying the night,” Eddie says, feigning confusion.

Steve groans, finally breaking. He covers his face, but Eddie doesn’t let that last long, reaching forward and uncovering those beautiful hazel eyes immediately. “I didn’t, but I… I knew I was going to ask.”

Eddie coos at that, can’t help it really. “Aww, Stevie. How long had you been planning that?”

Apparently that’s a line he’s hesitant to cross, because Steve just looks away, back to plucking at the errant strings hanging off his borrowed pants. He shrugs, mumbling something that Eddie doesn’t quite catch.

“What was that, honey?” Eddie asks, reaching out and tugging at the loose thread Steve just released.

Steve sighs, a loud, almost put-upon sort of thing. “I said… I’ve had the toothbrush in my bag for like a week.” His face is decidedly pink now, and Eddie is so damn fond.

He knows he should laugh this off and move on, or try to at least, but one look at Steve’s embarrassed but hopeful face makes him bold. “All you had to do was ask, baby,” he says softly, patting Steve’s knee.

Steve fidgets again, turning so that his knees are pressed to Eddie’s thigh. “But last time, you acted like…” he trails off, somehow looking even more embarrassed than he did before. “Well, anyway,” he says, waving his hand dismissively.

Eddie doesn’t let it go that easily. “Like what?” He asks quietly, saving space for disappointment or regret, but understanding that this is about Steve’s feelings, not his own.

It takes a few long, awkwardly silent moments for Steve to actually make eye contact and respond. When he does finally look at him, Eddie tries to give him a reassuring smile. “It’s stupid,” Steve says, his gaze flickering between his hands and Eddie’s eyes.

“I seriously doubt that,” Eddie says, trying to be reassuring without being patronizing. “And even if it is, I still want to hear it.”

Steve studies his hands very carefully, picking at a hangnail with the utmost precision. He doesn’t meet Eddie’s eyes when he finally speaks. “I just feel like… like you maybe don’t want me around, sometimes.”

Eddie frowns, ducking his head so that he can say his next words with the full certainty that Steve can actually hear them. “Stevie, no,” he says firmly. He reaches for Steve’s hands, gently clasping each one in an attempt to get rid of Steve’s distraction. “I’m sorry that I ever made you feel like that.” He hesitates then, uncertain if he should say anything more vulnerable than that. And of course, what he should do very rarely matches up with what he’s going to do, and he finds himself opening his big stupid mouth again. “Really, Steve. I… If anything, I want you around more than I probably should.”

Steve sniffles, blinking those sweet hazel eyes up at Eddie with nothing short of doubt lurking in them. “Really?” he asks.

Eddie can’t help himself, leaning in and pressing a little kiss to Steve’s forehead. “Always. I want you around always.”

He’s not sure what to expect from the confession, but what he gets is Steve sniffling louder, his hand coming up to clutch at the back of Eddie’s neck. For a moment, Eddie panics, thinking Steve is about to pull him into a kiss, a kiss that he knows he won’t be able to put a stop to even if he tries, but instead, he just presses their foreheads together, taking a deep, settling breath. “Okay,” Steve murmurs.

It takes him a moment to collect himself, and even when he does pull away, he doesn’t remove his hand immediately. “You okay now?” Eddie asks.

Steve nods. “Yeah. I’m really sorry, I don’t know why I got so… I get sort of sappy after sex sometimes.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Eddie says immediately, shaking his head. “Not for that, and not to me. This is a safe space, remember? You can say anything to me, always.”

A complicated look passes over Steve’s face then, and Eddie has never felt so scrutinized. He can almost imagine Steve walking through the caverns of his brain, inspecting every nook and cranny as he decides what’s worth keeping and what must be discarded. Eddie shivers, unsettled by the intensity of Steve’s expression, and that seems to be what snaps him out of whatever trance he’s in.

“I need to go brush my teeth,” Steve finally says, effectively breaking the tension.

Eddie feels a twin sense of relief and disappointment at that. It had almost felt like… for a moment there, he thought Steve was going to say something else. But surely if he had wanted to say something, he would have. Right?

“Okay,” Eddie replies, scooting away from him on the couch to give him space to go and do what he needs to do. He has a wild, purely self-indulgent thought as Steve is going to grab his bag, and common sense apparently isn’t enough to stop him from saying it. “Hey, if you want to, you can just leave your toothbrush here. That way you’ll have it for next time,” he says, glancing over at Steve and studying him carefully to see his reaction.

Luckily, Steve’s turned mostly towards Eddie, so he doesn’t have to repeat himself. Steve glances up at him, and his lips quirk into a shy smile. “Okay,” he says quietly. “I’ll put it with yours?” he asks.

Eddie nods, feeling a little giddy himself at the prospect. Which is completely ridiculous - something as stupid and simple as their toothbrushes being placed in the same cup is hardly worth freaking out over. And yet… “Perfect,” Eddie says, clearing his throat when his voice cracks.

Steve shuffles off to the bathroom, leaving Eddie alone with his thoughts. He’s not gone for very long, and Eddie has barely made it through one panic-driven cycle of “god, this is wrong, he’s my student, and he was uncomfortable with this at first - wait, what changed?” when Steve returns. He yawns widely as he walks in the room, and Eddie’s nose crinkles at the audible sound of his jaw popping.

“Ew,” he teases. “You’re like a snake, unhinging its jaw to eat a baby.”

Steve gives him a very unimpressed look as he settles back into his place on the couch. “Snakes do not eat babies,” he says with an air of such certainty that Eddie almost doesn’t want to tease him about it.

“Oh but that’s just what they want you to think!” Eddie says, trying to hide his massive grin.

“Sure,” Steve says, rolling his head to the side to give Eddie this little half-amused look. He yawns again, tilting to the side to rest his head on the arm of the sofa, and Eddie realizes how inconsiderate he’s being.

“Shit, I forgot, you’re like, actually tired, aren’t you?” he asks, moving to get up.

Steve’s eyes widen at that, and he tries to disagree, but Eddie can tell from his weak eyes and his posture that he’s exhausted. “No, really, we can finish the movie!” Steve tries, gesturing to the television with one hand.

Eddie shakes his head, standing up and clearing the coffee table of their mess. “Nah, we can finish it another time, bub. You need some sleep.” He takes the trash to the kitchen, washes his hands, and makes his way back to the living room, where Steve is still half-laying down on the couch. “C’mon, gotta take your contacts out,” he reminds him.

Steve grimaces at that, but sits up. “Will you help me? It still kind of grosses me out to do it on my own.”

“Of course,” Eddie replies. “Are your glasses in your bag?”

“Yeah, should be in the case at the top. Contact case is in there, too.”

Eddie dutifully digs it out of the bag, coming to settle on the edge of the coffee table directly in front of Steve once he’s got it. “Alright, hold still,” he murmurs softly before reaching out. He’s gotten the hang of this in the several times Steve has asked for his help, and he’s definitely better at removing the contacts than he is at putting them in for him, so he’s glad that Steve’s mostly got that part down pat. Now that his brain is on that wave length, a nagging thought from earlier returns to his mind. “So… when you go to the ear doctor…” he starts slowly, then pauses when Steve tenses.

“Yeah?” Steve asks when Eddie is quiet for a beat too long.

“If you don’t want to talk about this, we don’t have to,” Eddie says softly.

Steve blinks at him, squinting without the assistance of his contacts, and Eddie can’t help but find it incredibly adorable. “It’s fine,” Steve says with a shrug. “No point in beating around the bush. Like… It’s happening.”

Eddie nods. “Right.” He clears his throat and hands Steve his glasses. “But when it does… Are you prepared for them to tell you that you might need something for that? Like…” He doesn’t want to come right out and say it, a little weary of scaring Steve, or just hurting his feelings.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to have that concern for long, as Steve fills in the blanks for him. “Like a hearing aid?” he guesses.

Letting out the breath he’d definitely been holding, Eddie says, “yeah. Like that. I know it’s just partial hearing loss… Or, well, I think that’s what it is, but… if they say that’s the best option, are you comfortable with that?”

Steve is quiet for a long time. If he wasn’t sitting up, his gaze flickering around the room as he thinks, Eddie would think that he’d fallen asleep. He looks sort of lost, and Eddie can’t even begin to imagine what sort of thoughts are racing through his mind. Eventually, his shoulders slump in what Eddie can only describe as resignation, and he sighs. “I… I guess I’ll have to be,” he says quietly.

Eddie is quick to do what he does best, jumping in to reassure him. “Hey, no. If you don’t want to, I’ll press them for another solution. But… if it’s that or surgery…” he gives Steve a sympathetic look.

Steve knocks his ankles against Eddie’s, staring down at their feet. “I don’t want people looking at me,” he whispers.

Eddie almost responds with a joke, but he knows better now. He knows how sensitive Steve is about these things (rightfully so) and so he knows that would just make it worse. “Why do you think they would be looking at you?” Eddie says, trying to choose his words very carefully. “I’m pretty certain they make relatively discreet aids, so people probably wouldn’t even notice.”

“Maybe,” Steve says noncommittally with a shrug. “But… I don’t want people to look at me… and all they see is the glasses and a hearing aid. Especially…” he rolls his eyes, mostly at himself, and gives Eddie a sardonic smile. “This is stupid, but like… I really don’t want people coming to our basketball games and saying, like… ‘Oh, there goes that deaf kid, who can’t see the ball coming at his face! And did you know he can’t fucking read?’ Like…” he shakes his head. “I don’t want that to be my legacy.”

And Eddie doesn’t really get it, not really. He’s not a member of any sport or club, and even being in a band, he doesn’t think he’s ever particularly given a shit what people thought of him, even though he is a little different, but he supposes that’s just the difference in their personalities. He tries to level with him, and see it through his eyes. “Yeah…” Eddie says slowly. “But baby,” he leans in, putting his hands on Steve’s knees and squeezing. “That’s not going to be your legacy. People are going to remember you because you were an amazing player, yeah, but you know what I’ll remember about you?”

Steve almost seems shy when he asks, “what?”

Eddie smiles at him, reaching up and tucking his hair over his ear. “I’ll remember that you were kind. And hardworking.” He begins counting things off using Steve’s fingers. “Honest, caring, funny, smart.”

Steve’s eyes are wet. “Eddie,” he says softly, like he’s denying it.

Eddie shakes his head, bringing his hand up to his mouth to kiss his palm. “I’m going to remember that you were brave,” he says gently, holding Steve’s gaze. “That you came to me and Murray for extra help, even though you were embarrassed. That you came back to me, even when I had fucked up and said everything wrong, because you chose to be brave enough to let someone help you.” He brushes his lips across Steve’s knuckles. “I’m not going to remember you for your glasses, or for having something in your ear, if that’s what they decide to do. I’m going to remember you, Steve.”

He means it to be reassuring, a pep talk of sorts, but Steve is fully crying by the end of it.

Great. Scratch “motivational speaker” off any potential future career plans.

At first he can’t tell if they’re sad tears or not, but then Steve is lurching forward, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s neck and muffling his tears against his shoulder. It takes him a few minutes of sniffling to get it under control, but Eddie gives him that time, holding him in a loose embrace and stroking his back gently. “Sorry,” Steve mumbles, not so subtly wiping his nose against Eddie’s shirt. “That was just - really fucking sweet, Eddie. I…” He pulls out of his grip for just a moment, giving him a shaky smile. “Thank you. I really needed that.”

Eddie kisses his cheek. “No problem. I’m always here when you need a pep talk. And maybe next time I won’t make you cry,” he jokes softly, thumbing at a stray tear on Steve’s cheek.

Steve just laughs, naturally good-natured about that. “Yeah, we’ll see,” he teases.

Eddie gives him another warm smile before sighing and standing up. “Let me go get you a couple of blankets, yeah?”

Something like disappointment flashes across Steve’s face for a second, but then he’s nodding, watching Eddie disappear down the hall. When he returns with a stack of blankets and a pillow, Steve offers a little half-smile. “Thanks,” he says, watching Eddie as he spreads a sheet across the couch, fluffing a pillow up at one end.

“You want me to tuck you in, baby?” Eddie asks, mostly joking.

Steve gives him that sweet smile, his eyelashes batting softly against his cheekbones as he nods. “Yeah, that would be nice, actually.”

It’s decidedly innocent, and means nothing more than Steve just being silly and seeking some form of comfort, but for some reason, Eddie’s face heats up. “Okay,” he says after an awkward pause. “Um… Lay down?”

Steve does just that, scooting around until he’s resting his head against the pillow, his glasses going a bit wonky on his face. “Can you-” he starts, turning his head a bit.

Eddie nods, reaching out and sliding the frames off Steve’s nose and setting them on the coffee table. “Better?”

“Yeah,” Steve says softly. He’s looking up at Eddie with those big doe eyes, and Eddie has to force himself to look away.

He drapes the fuzzy blanket over Steve first, followed by a quilt his grandmother had made before he was ever born. It’s old and is made up entirely of mis-matched patches of plaid and denim, but it’s probably the most sentimental item he owns. “Warm enough?”

Steve nods. “Mhm.” He looks awful cozy in his spot, and Eddie allows himself to be selfish one more time for the night as he leans in and presses a kiss to his forehead.

“Alright. Goodnight, bub. If you need anything, I’m just down the hall,” Eddie says, giving Steve one last look-over to make sure he’s as snug as he can be. He waits for Steve’s quiet hum of agreement, and then he’s retreating to his bedroom, giving Steve one last look over his shoulder before he disappears from his view for the night.

Behind the almost-closed door, Eddie sighs. God, he wishes he’d just have the guts to ask Steve to sleep in here, with him. Not in a sexual way or anything - no, Eddie just wanted to know what it would be like to cuddle with him for a night, to wake up wrapped in each other’s arms. He huffs and puffs to himself as he crawls into his lonely, empty bed, glaring up at the ceiling as soon as his head hits the pillow. It’s not fair, really. Steve being so close, yet so far away. Perfectly within reach, but also very much inaccessible.

He sighs again, louder this time, as if anyone will hear his passive-aggressive moping.

It occurs to him, vaguely, that he could just go right back down the hall and ask Steve if he’d like to sleep in a real bed rather than the couch. And honestly, even if he says no, what does Eddie have to lose? It’s not like Steve’s going to leave in the middle of the night. Then again, Eddie would hate to even make him uncomfortable enough to even think about that… He goes back and forth several times before ultimately deciding - fuck it. Nothing to lose, might as well give it a shot.

He crosses the space between his bed and the door quickly and quietly, a singular thought in his mind as he reaches for the doorknob.

Eddie has just barely pulled the door open when he bumps into something - or rather, someone.

“Oh, shit, I-” he starts to apologize immediately, then pauses when he registers that of course it’s Steve standing in front of his door. His face is drawn comically around an expression of panic, and Eddie tilts his head at him curiously. “Oh. What were you…” he trails off. It would be a little hypocritical of him to start asking questions about motives now, considering what he was just on his way to do himself.

“Um,” Steve says, his eyes wide. Eddie probably nearly gave him a heart attack, swinging the door open like that before the poor guy could even get the chance to knock. “I got… scared?” he tries, the words coming out more like a question than any real statement of fact.

Eddie can’t help his instinct to tease. Crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame, he says, “oh, did you?”

Steve blushes. ��Um… yeah. It’s like… really dark in there, and… and your fridge makes weird noises, and…”

“Hm,” Eddie says, sucking at his teeth like he’s considering the issue. “Well, that’s no good. I can’t possibly leave you out there all alone to fend for yourself against the… fridge noises.” He can’t help but grin as he says it, and can’t bother regretting it when Steve just blushes harder.

He half-expects Steve to give it up then, out of embarrassment if nothing else, but if there’s one thing about him, it’s that he’ll always see something through. Instead, he just nods, casting a weary glance back down the hall. In doing that, Eddie finally notices that Steve’s got the quilt wrapped around his shoulders. Cute.

“Yeah, it would be really… really irresponsible for you to leave me out there all alone. I think I’d be way safer if I…” he seems to lose confidence then, but the longing glance he sends to Eddie’s bed over his shoulder makes his intentions crystal clear.

“I think you’ll just have to sleep in here with me tonight,” Eddie says, feigning disappointment. “Well, come on, then. I hear the fridge likes to claim its victims this time of night,” he says with a grin, gesturing for Steve to come into his bedroom.

Steve makes it a few steps towards his bed before he turns around, giving Eddie an almost desperate look. “You don’t mind me being in here, do you? Because, like, I can sleep by myself! I just-”

Eddie reaches for him, pulling him in via a tug on the quilt. “Honey. I promise I don’t mind. Actually…” He laughs at himself, shaking his head. “That’s why I was already at my door. I was actually about to come in there and ask if you wanted to sleep in here with me. I felt so guilty leaving you in there with just some blankets and a pillow.”

Steve’s face, which had brightened a little at the confession, falls again by the time Eddie finishes speaking. “Oh,” he says, glancing down. “Well, I mean, I don’t mind. I can sleep on the couch, I really don’t have to-”

“Stevie,” Eddie says, his voice full of exasperation. “Baby, I want you to sleep in here with me. I…” he hesitates, feeling that familiar uncertainty that comes with the prospect of being vulnerable to Steve in some way. “I think it would be nice, to not be alone, and… and it would be even better if it was you I was being not-alone with.”

“Oh,” Steve repeats, his voice even softer now. “Okay, then. Should we, um…” He glances at the bed, but his gaze doesn’t linger. Instead it darts all over the room, taking everything in as if he believes it’ll be the last time he sees it. Eddie hopes, selfishly, that it’s not.

“Let’s go to bed,” Eddie says, nodding. He uses his grip on Steve’s quilt-cape to guide him to the bed, walking backwards himself until the back of his knees hit the mattress. He releases Steve just long enough to crawl up onto the bed, patting the empty space beside him as he wiggles under the covers. “C’mon, I don’t bite,” he says, grinning at Steve. “Well, much.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but crawls onto the bed, keeping the quilt wrapped around his shoulders like he’s some kind of little caterpillar. Eddie helps him under the actual sheets and comforter, but Steve seems to have no intentions of letting go of the quilt anytime soon.

Once they’re settled, both of them on their sides facing each other, Eddie yawns. His jaw pops, and they share a grin at the sound. “Like a snake,” Steve murmurs.

It’s silly, but Eddie’s heart swells at the reference to his joke from earlier. “Like a snake,” he echoes.

Steve’s eyes are drooping with exhaustion, and Eddie knows it’s just a matter of time before he loses him to the clutches of sleep. His throat sticks with words he shouldn’t even feel the urge to say, and he clears his throat a few times in an attempt to speak.

“Goodnight, Eddie,” Steve whispers, beating him to the punch.

Eddie nods, feeling ridiculous at the swell of emotion that rises in his throat. Oh, god. He’s really got it bad for him, there’s no way around it.

“Goodnight, Stevie. Sweet dreams.”

Eddie doesn’t sleep a wink.

#English TA!Eddie Munson #Struggling College Student!Steve Harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #hard of hearing steve harrington #glasses wearer steve harrington #dyslexic steve harrington

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mcuntainbcrn · 2 years

Text

Flexible [NSFW Drabble]

All she had been doing was warming up for a training session, a leg extended over her head, so the sound of a tray clattering against the stone floor was nothing she anticipated...nor the way her husband gazed at her, open mouthed, appearing to try to process the sight before him an intensity in his gaze she had only once before...

...but it was far too early for his season to start, “...mora for your thoughts?” the question was posed as she lowered the leg, and stretched out the other, deepening it with a hand resting in the arch of one foot; she watched his mouth open and close a few times, the internal debate playing out via minute facial tics before he appeared to order his thoughts.

“Nothing that would be appropriate given our current venue - perhaps if you would be willing to join me in our abide?”

Perhaps she was a touch more on target than she thought, “I don’t mind in the slightest, geliebter.” she strode to his side, winding a hand around his arm as he guided them to the teapot and transported them inside; no sooner had her feet grazed the soil she felt large hands shift to grip her waist, “...I want to fold you in half.”

A blink of surprise - how quickly the public filter dropped when the two of them were alone; he was such a reserved, proper soul ninety percent of the time that anyone who had yet to see this side of him may of been startled...but a soft chuckle left her, scarred palms smoothing over his shoulder, “Sure - it’s been awhile, and besides...it seems like you’re rather curious as to how flexible I actually am.”

The glowing embers in his eyes practically ignited, a toothy grin spreading over his face as he drew her closer, following his lead to rise up on her toes, “I wont pretend I’m not.”

Such earnest drew a giggle from her before she closed that gap between them, feeling his grip slide lower and hike her up, wrapping her legs around him as he made the short walk to the bedroom, feeling fabric being pulled away from her back in fistfuls, breaking the kiss only long enough for the garment to be tossed away - a shame he was wearing his work uniform...she would have torn it clean off his person were it anything else.

Instead a slow, deliberate roll of her hips to draw a groan from him as she began the painstaking process of undoing fastenings and buttons to unwrap the former Geo lord, exposing the glowing markings and scales hidden beneath before starting on his trousers; she only released her leg lock when she felt her back press against the cushions, allowing him to wrench away the last remaining barriers between them.

A hand slipped between them as she hooked her calves back over his hips, feeling the delicious sensation as he located the sensitive bud and drew a noticeable shudder of her inner thighs along with a shaking breath before her lips found his pulse, allowing her teeth to slowly sink into that fluttering beat, feeling his movements momentarily stagger.

Teeth retracted, sank back in just enough to draw blood, following the pacing of his own fingers against her, a palm slid deliberately along his side and over his front, locating what she sought and tracing along the throbbing length with a feather light touch, deliberate and teasing, “Someone’s eager.” her words were breathless, spoken against the abused skin of his throat, dragging her tongue over the wounds.

“Don’t pretend you’re not feeling it too.” a slight shift was all it took before she felt one digit penetrate, followed soon by another, both easily pressing into the cluster of nerves that made her toes curl and her hips reflexively move into the contact and a moan leave her, “D-didn’t claim I wasn’t.”

Her touch grew more deliberate with a slight swipe of his thumb over the hardening bud, “Now whose eager? ...haa, I can’t wait to take you again.” the words ghosted over her ear in that soft baritone, drawing a smirk from her as she felt him press into her palm as she pressed her lips along his jaw, feeling that familiar heat beginning to coil within her abdomen as he slowly extracted his fingers, making a show of licking them clean before adjusting his hold, pushing her knees until they were burrowed into the mattress on either side of her head.

He lowered into her, the position allowing him to press deeper than he ever had before and making a strangled gasp leave her that appeared to give him momentary pause before the enraptured moan left her; she could swore she heard a snapping sound - was it his restraint? ...was it hers? Did it matter?

The pacing ramped up almost immediately, the hesitation shown all but abandoned for a pace the grew almost feverish, skin striking skin, “Do you like that, my love? Do you know the thoughts I had of you before? This is only the beginning...oh, the ways I’ll have you today.” she felt him push further, his shoulders pressing into the backs of her knees, the words silencing as the former archon caught her by the lips, muting and swallowing her passionate cries.

“F-full of surprises...I wonder how aaan~! h-how else you’ll surprise me today.” she barely managed to get the sentence out before he caught her in another kiss, feeling herself quickly falling over that precipice, legs trembling against his bare flesh as the first orgasm gripped her, feeling his length throb within her and a familiar rush; she wasn’t fool enough to think it was over though - not Rex, not with the stamina she knew he possessed.

She did yelp a little as she felt herself being lifted, the soft cushion giving way to the far less plush surface of the wall beside the bed, feeling her knees connect with the wood as he thrust into her against and again; it wasn’t a massive shift in positions, but it was still enough to generated a whole new set of sensations that made her nails piece into his shoulders.

A cry left her as she felt his teeth burrow into her neck, though not one of pain, wanting nothing more but to draw him even closer still, despite it being next to impossible, save for the scant space between every rolls of his hips, feeling the rumbling of the pleasure laced purring vibrating through her skin, “Rex...h-how long can you keep this a-aa-AAH! ...k-keep this up?”

That smile...the way is spread over her already sensitive flesh, “...days...weeks...months really - why? ...would you like to find out, Margaret?”

#drabble #lapisdex #herald of order: zhongli #v: genshin impact #n / s / f / w

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marvelsbanner · 3 years

Text

Part of a Team

Summary: Wanda is the newest Avengers recruit and she’s having a hard time finding her place in this new life- maybe she can find it in you?

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x y/n, you

Warnings: Brief mention of death and blood, minor language (if you squint theres kind of compromising situations? nothing outright sexual)

Word Count: ~2700

A/N: Reblogs, likes, and comments are VERY much appreciated, all mistakes are my own! xx

**I don't own marvel and if I did Natasha would be alive**

Something was wrong. You were just in Strucker’s lab- just on the trail of one of the enhanced twins. The alarms were going off around you and your boots clanged on the metal floor- before you froze in your place, a red haze overtaking you and suddenly you were thrown into the daylight.

You felt tingles run through your veins and down your spine; your head throbbed. You felt vulnerable, seen. What the hell is going on-

You’re in the forest, you think. No- there are rocks. Big rocks-

Focus.

No, not rocks. Graves. Gravestones. Where the hell are you?

You drag your heavy feet over to the nearest, it takes a moment for your vision to focus.

Who’s grave? Who’s grave? Oh god. No no no- this, this can’t be-

Natasha Romanoff.

You felt like throwing up. This couldn’t be real. You dragged yourself to another stone situated nearby: Clint Barton. Beloved husband, father, and friend.

It felt like you couldn't breathe, you were just there with them. You were just there.

Your body jerks as cold hands grab your shoulders and spin your body to face them-

Steve.

You throw your arms around his neck, “STEVE! Oh god Steve! You’re okay- you’re.. cold” you feel something wet and sticky on your hand, pulling it back and seeing red. So much red.

“Steve..�� you quickly stumble back, tripping in the process. It’s then you see- it’s too late. His body was grey and lifeless. He falls onto his knees and then collapses totally. You scream and scramble backwards, head hitting another gravestone in the process.

You turn to face it, to read another name of one of the team members you’ve come to call family- but it's not one of theirs. It’s yours.

It’s your name. A graveyard for the Avengers, Earth’s mightiest heroes.

Suddenly your body jolts and you take a sharp intake of breath- your ears are pounding. Everything hurts. But you see her- the enhanced. She’s looking at you with a look you can’t describe. It’s not fear, it’s not anger.. Pity? Empathy? You can’t look away from her, the glowing red eyes capturing you as their prey.

And then there was black.

A few weeks later and you’re back at the tower. Things have changed- the entire world has changed, really. The battle opened up new doors- literal new doors to new realms- that the world had previously thought impossible.

The team had expanded, with Steve’s friend Sam joining the team, as well as Vision, the synthezoid that helped the team to defeat Ultron.

There was also her.

Wanda Maximoff was one of the enhanced twins from Strucker’s experiments, you eventually learned. It was voluntary, but after learning about her backstory you think you would have done the same in her place.

She lost her brother- Pietro- in the battle and she took it hard. She didn’t come out of her room when she could help it. Clint was rather protective over her, maybe it was the fatherly figure coming out of him- maybe he was feeling guilt over being the one Pietro sacrificed himself to save. Either way, he was able to get her out of the room a few times and get her to eat. Vision also struck up a strange friendship with the girl- but then again, Vision was easy company, and rather empathetic for a synthezoid.

Everybody took a hit from when Wanda messed with their heads, some more than others.

You didn’t talk for a week.

Didn’t even talk with Clint’s kids when they wanted to play with you.

You didn’t hold it against her. She proved what a valuable asset she was to the team as she fought alongside the group. She did what she thought was right at the time, and that’s not something you could hold against anybody.

Ever since the Battle, Wanda has been staying in the Avengers facilities with the rest of the group, an official Avenger, but you could tell she was still uneasy around the team. She only talked when she was directly talked to and didn't come out of her room but for a few times a day for food and training, sometimes not even then.

And then there was you.

She seemed to avoid you like the plague. You weren’t even sure you two made eye contact for the entire first few weeks she was there.

At first you thought she just didn’t like you, that something about you rubbed her the wrong way, or something you had done had offended her.

But it was her eyes that gave it away- the same soft look that she gave you right after exploring the deepest and darkest parts of your mind that day at Strucker’s lab. She knew from the second it happened that she had hit a deep nerve, and she would continue to give you that damn look every time she thought you didn't notice her.

But you always did.

You couldn’t help it, the way you were drawn to her. She reminded you so much of yourself before joining the team, broken, and alone in your head. You wanted to know her. You wanted to be there for her, be someone to her, you didn’t want her to keep walking on eggshells around you.

And so, you told her.

You found her in the kitchen late one night. She was wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a garnet tank top with a plain gray robe overtop. Her hair was a mess, roughly shoved into a ponytail and her hands were cupped around a mug. She was blowing on what looked to be dandelion tea, and as you got closer the fragrant earthy smell confirmed your suspicions.

She looked adorable.

And slightly startled to find you alone with her.

“Evening” you said as a greeting as you made your way to the counter top.

She gave a tight-lipped half smile with a timid “Hi” before going back to blowing on her tea. She made a slight movement that looked like she was going to try to slip away before you continued,

“You did really well in training the other day. Cap can’t give you enough praise” you say, taking a seat on one of the counter barstools.

She looks puzzled for a moment over your attempt at small talk before getting out a “Thank you.”

You both stood there in silence for a moment, just looking at each other, feeling the air grow thicker with each second ticking by.

“I like the pajamas” you say with a small smirk. You yourself were still dressed for the day in your leather jacket and black jeans. You could have sworn you saw flush creep up her neck before she swallowed it down with a sip of her tea.

There was another silent moment as she gave you a quizzical look, “I don’t quite understand what’s happening here.” She says with a vague hand gesture to the space between them.

You gave a slight chuckle, it was very on-brand for Wanda to be straight to the point.

“Look, Wanda,” You rotated your body on the stool to face her more comfortably,

“I see the way you look at me when you think i’m not looking. You avoid me at any given opportunity, I actually think this has been the most words we’ve exchanged in your whole time living here.”

She raised her ducked head to look you in the eyes and gave a small shake to her head, “I don’t understand.”

You don’t break eye contact, but simply offer a small smile as you reply “I’m not afraid of you, Wanda. And I don’t hold anything from that day against you. All is forgiven, and I would like to move past that. I understand you believed everything you were doing was for the right reasons, and the only thing that it shows me is your dedication and loyalty to a greater cause. Even if it was the wrong one at the time.”

She looked shocked, to say the least. Her mouth slightly opening and closing as she pondered what to say in response.

“You all should be afraid of me. You see the chaos I’ve created and you think you know what I can do,” her voice caught before she continued, “But the truth is I don't even know what i'm capable of. I don’t belong here.” she says softly.

You give a sad smile before slipping off of the stool and moving closer to her.

“We all thought that, at one point or another. We’ve got a whole freak circus here, we’ve got more baggage than Delta flies in a year- that's, that's uh, an airline. My bad.” You elaborate after she gives you a puzzled look, holding back a smile at your stuttered explanation.

“Aaand I ruined the moment.” You give a small chuckle, before continuing “But my point still stands. Nobody belongs here more or less than anyone else. We’re all just here, that's the truth of the matter. We’re just a bunch of unlucky misfits trying to figure out how to work as a team. Just give it a try, and maybe you’ll find you fit in better than you imagined you would.”

At some point during your speech you had moved close enough to take her hand, and you look down at it now, blushing before going to move it away.

Before you could, she gives your hand a squeeze before moving in to place a gentle kiss against your cheek.

“Thank you, y/n.”

And with that she slips away to her room, leaving you alone with your racing heart and her lukewarm mug of tea.

The next morning you found yourself awake bright and early for another morning training session with Nat and Steve- but you had a guest this time.

“Wanda” you greeted, which she returned with a timid “Good morning.”

“I’m glad you could make it” you say, sincerely.

“I decided to take your advice.” She replies with the smallest smile pulling at her lips.

The two of you stood there for a moment, just taking each other in before Steve cleared his throat, “Alright, we should get started then. Wanda, I'll spar with you to start. Nat, you take y/n. Try not to kill each other, please.” He said with a humored smile.

You make your way towards the corner with Nat on your heels. She gives you a quizzical look with a raised brow, glancing between you and Wanda. You roll your eyes and shake your head, only responding with a pointed “Later,” before your legs sweep under hers and an arm wraps around her torso, flipping you both to the ground and landing with you on top of her.

“Using my own move against me, that’s a low blow y/n.” You both laugh, and you barely respond with a “I learned from the best” before she wraps a leg around your waist and grabs your wrists with one hand, flipping you over and pinning you to the ground. She winks and replies “Damn right you did.”

It went like that for another half an hour, the two of you going back and forth battling for the upper hand. Natasha was the one who had trained you since the beginning, and you could almost say you were near her equal now. Well, you could at least give her a run for her money in a spar.

The two of you were panting and glistening with sweat, cheeks flushed from the exercise when she gave you a mischievous wink and called out to the other two, “Hey grandpa, I think I’m done getting my ass kicked by y/n for the day. I want someone easy, come spar with me”

If looks could kill, the look you were giving her would have the assassin dead on the floor.

Steve only looked amused, grabbing a towel to wipe his own sweat as he responded “Bring it on, Romanoff. Try not to break anything, though. I’ve been told they want my bones for the Smithsonian” Nat rolled her eyes and gave a pointedly fake laugh before they made their way to the other side of the gym, leaving you and Wanda alone.

“Hi” you greeted. She responded with a small smile and a “Hi” in return.

She looked as though she were still catching her breath, the rise and fall of her chest was noticeably fast and her face was still adorned with a glisten of sweat and pretty pink flush.

The same flush you saw from her last night, standing in the kitchen with the dim light around her.

Oh God you were in deep now.

“Nat and I were just wrestling around, hand to hand combat kind of stuff, but I see you and Steve were boxing so it's up to you what you’d like to do.” you say quickly.

“Well.. I do have this,” She waves her hand to show her flicker of red powers “for missions, so I don’t think I really need that kind of training.” She says with a smirk, “But I admit, you seem like a good teacher. Maybe.. some basics?”

She was pushing it. Pushing at this, the same way you were pushing last night. Alright, maybe you could run with this.

You give her a teasing smile, “Alright then. We’ll start slowly. May I?” You ask, reaching out for her, but not quite touching.

“By all means” she says, and you can feel the familiar flush creeping up your neck again. You release a puff of breath and shake yourself out of your thoughts before stepping closer to Wanda, and in one fluid motion you had one leg behind hers, your left arm resting against her upper chest and your other at the small of her back, pushing her flush against yourself.

You could hear the small gasp she let out, smirking to yourself.

“This is a simple take down, easy to get out of, but good for beginning. Now i'm just gonna pull you down as slowly as I can-”

You bring her left leg out from under her and carefully let the two of you sink to the floor, leaving you straddled on top of her and pinning her arms to the ground. The air suddenly felt a lot warmer.

You meet her eyes, breath hitching as you feel her pulse quicken beneath your touch.

You clear your throat and begin again, “Like I said before, it’s easy to get out of, but you want to keep the element of surprise. Use your opponent's body weight against them, if you can twist your wrist to slip it out of their grip and use your hips to to flip-”

Before you could even finish she had you pinned beneath her, wind knocked out of you from the impact.

“Like that?” she said, looking down at you through hooded eyes, thick accent teasing- flirting?

You were suddenly very aware of your close proximity and compromising position- flush against each other with her hips straddling your waist; close enough to feel her rapid heartbeat.

“Yeah- that was- that was good” you sputtered out, barely able to hear yourself over the rapid beating of your own heart. Or maybe it was hers- you aren't sure you could tell the difference between up and down right now.

She gave a proud smirk and opened her mouth to say something before a certain synthezoid floated through the gym walls, clueless to the moment he was interrupting.

“Mr. Stark requests a team meeting and would like you to meet him in the conference room.” He said simply before turning and leaving through the wall again.

Wanda gave you a look that seemed to say we’ll finish this later and moved off of you. You missed the heat of her body immediately.

She offered you a hand up and you gladly took it, the two of you walking side by side in silence to the meeting, shoulders bumping and small smiles shared between you two as you think to yourself that maybe you could get used to this.

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wandaromanova · 3 years

Note

Can u do a fic where fem!reader and Nat are broken up and they’re pretty hostile with each other but when one of them gets hurt on a mission they realize they’re still in love and get back together thank u if u write this :)))))))

I Love You

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cussing, violence, that’s it i believe

A/N: hi! i hit 300 followers! i posted my very first story 3 weeks ago and only had like 10 followers then. i can’t even begin to express how grateful i am that i’ve been able to bring people joy (or pain lol) with my stories. thank you. not proofread. <3

Summary: Ex-lovers Natasha and Y/N dance around their feelings for each other. They decide that hostility was the best course of action.

Word Count: 2.5K

(gif is not mine)

You and Natasha dated for a year and a half before you guys decided to call it quits. It was a mutual agreement, but there was still some sort of bad blood between the both of you that was painfully obvious. The tension could be cut with a knife.

You guys were going great at first. You both understood each other on a level that no one else could. You would do typical couple things in order to compensate for the lack of stability and domesticity you’ve both had in your lives. Movie nights, designated date nights, cuddle sessions in the late hours of the night, and literally every other cliche there was in the book.

However, you and Natasha were both raised in similar environments. From young ages, you guys were trained to conceal your true emotions and that love was for children. So, communicating with one another was something that the both of you didn’t know how to do.

You didn’t try to communicate and neither did she; and there lied the problem. Natasha would absolutely freak on you if you so much as looked at another person. You would get upset if Natasha went on a mission without informing you first. There were so many pointless arguments that occurred between you and Natasha. Arguments that could’ve been avoided or solved if you guys were able to just talk to each other.

You would say that you guys did talk… just in a higher volume than normal conversation. The yelling between you both could be heard throughout the compound. Most times, you would get so fed up and tired from the arguing, that you didn’t even know why you guys were fighting anymore. It wasn’t healthy and you knew it.

You and Natasha never once told each other the big three words. That was a line neither of you dared to cross. Like the Red Room and The Academy taught you both, love was a weakness and was nothing more than a concept believed by children. You’d like to think that actions spoke louder than words, though.

You could feel the love between you both in the way you would hold onto one another after a mission had gone wrong. You could feel it in the way Natasha worried and panicked when you’d come back from a mission with so much as a scratch above your eyebrow. However, you still could not bring yourself to tell her how you felt. Not that it would matter now, considering you guys had broken up.

It’s been five months since the breakup, and at first your plan of action was to be civil with your ex-girlfriend, but she had other plans. Natasha would bark out snarky remarks whenever you would speak up during team meetings. She began to give you cold glares whenever you walked into a room. God forbid you would even breathe in her direction, she would storm out of a room at the speed of light if you did so.

So, you began to act the same way she was. Okay, yes, it was extremely childish thinking. You should be mature, regardless of how Natasha was treating you, but you couldn’t be civil anymore. So you would treat her just as harshly as she did you. You’d send her sharper glares than she would give you. You’d never listen to anything she had to add during mission meetings, being sure to make it obvious you weren’t paying attention. And you would always counter her hostile comments that were directed towards you.

The team was currently sat in a meeting. You and Natasha were meant to be sent on a mission together, to which you both immediately objected.

“Steve, do I really have to go with that over there? I’d rather go myself and risk dying than go with her.” Natasha pointed in your direction and you were immediately offended by her statement.

“No, I would rather go and die than have to hear one more word out of your god damn mouth. You’re such a bitch.” You spoke as you stood up from your seat, Natasha following suit. Natasha walked across the room and stopped in front of you. She harshly shoved a finger against your chest.

“What the fuck did you just call me? You better take it back before I make sure you never talk again.” Natasha glared at you intensely as she stared into your eyes. You returned her stare with a bored expression on your face.

“I said you’re a bitch. What are you going to do about it, Widow?” You asked her challengingly. Natasha moved to pounce on you, but Bucky, who was sitting next to your spot, sprung in and intervened.

“Let her go Barnes. I’d love to kick her ass.” You smirked as your words only enraged Natasha more. She struggled against Bucky’s grip, trying to free herself so she could pound your face into the floor, but she couldn’t break free.

“Okay! Enough. Natasha, you’re off the mission. Y/N, you’re with me. We leave in 10.” Steve spoke with conviction in his voice, fed up with the pair of you. Natasha stopped resisting Bucky’s hold as he slowly let her go. You looked at her with one harsh glare before you took the mission file that was on the table and walked out of the room. As you left, everyone in the room stared at Natasha. She huffed and stormed out of the room as well.

•❅────────✧❅✦❅✧─────────❅•

You and Steve were currently staked out in a van. You guys were spying on one of the leaders of Hydra and an infamous weapons dealer. The man was currently having a lunch with the dealer. You had been sitting there together for about an hour. You were bored out of your mind and pissed that you couldn’t get Natasha out of your mind. You wanted to punch yourself in the face for thinking about how hot she looked when she pissed. The way her eyes would widen, showing off more of her green irises as her eyebrows furrowed together in anger. The way her chest rose and fell as she took deep breaths. God, she had such nice boobs.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Fury’s voice coming in through comms. “Okay, we evacuated civilians off of the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. Remember, wait until they’re in front of the alley before you attack. They may have weapons.” Fury informed you both and you looked onto the monitor to confirm the empty street. Sure enough, there wasn’t a civilian in sight; good.

Steve replied with a quick “okay” before movement from the door of the restaurant caught your attention. “Steve, there they are. Move out, now.” You spoke as you loaded your gun and attached it to your hip. You and Steve jumped out of the van. Steve threw his shield and hit both of the men with it. His shield came back to him as if ricocheted off of the men.

Your gun was pointed at the both of them as you guys approached them. “Meeting in broad daylight? Doesn’t seem like a smart move for two supposedly genius people.” You spoke as Steve searched the two men for any weapons. They didn’t have any. That should’ve been a red flag, but you weren’t in the right state of mind right now.

Suddenly, another van pulled up in front of the alleyway, right behind the vehicle you both had just exited. Hydra Agents with semi-automatic guns filed out of the van. Fuck. You guys were set up. Steve shared a look with you before he threw his shield toward the men and knocked the guns out of a few of the agent’s hands.

You began to fire towards the men with your own gun. You shot them in the shoulders, sending them flying to the ground in pain. You and Steve made quick work of the men and soon enough, there were unconscious men littered across the floor.

You and Steve turned back to the two men you had previously captured as they laid on the floor in shock. They really thought their little stunt would work? Pathetic. Unfortunately, one of the Hydra agents was still conscious. You and Steve failed to notice the movement behind your backs. The man pointed a nearby gun at you and fired 5 shots at you. He missed three of them, but managed to land two into your abdomen.

You fell to the ground as Steve whipped around and actually knocked the man unconscious this time. “Fury, we need backup! L/N is down!” He spoke frantically into comms as he applied pressure to your wounds. Your eyes were open in shock as you tried to process what just happened. You were shot. It really did hurt like a bitch. What are those black spots? God, I want Natasha right now. Wait, what? No, it’s just the blood loss talking.

You fell unconscious as soon as the backup S.H.I.E.L.D agents appeared on the scene. You were rushed back to the Avengers Compound in one of S.H.I.E.L.D’s vehicles, Steve following you after ensuring the two men were detained. As soon as the car made it to the compound, your unconscious body was placed onto a gurney and you were being rushed to the medical wing.

As your body was being rolled through the halls of the compound, you were pushed by the doctors past Natasha. She did a double take and quickly turned around to confirm what she had just saw. Her heart sunk to her stomach at the sight of your limp, blood-covered body. She ran after you without a second thought, fear and dread taking over.

Natasha tried to enter the medical wing where they had just taken you, but she was stopped by a strong hand abruptly placing itself onto her shoulder. “Nat, we need to let them take care of her. We’d only be disturbing them and we need their focus to 100% be on Y/N.” Steve said in an attempt to convince the redhead to stop her plan of barging into the room like a madwoman. Natasha took one last glance at the door before she heavily sighed and walked to the wall across the door. She slid her back slowly against the wall and placed her head in her hands.

“What happened, Rogers?” Natasha asked, afraid of hearing the answer. Steve went over the events of the mission, and all Natasha could think was that she should’ve been there with you. She would’ve jumped in front of that bullet to save you in a heartbeat because she loved you. Wait. She loved you? Holy fuck! She loved you!

Natasha’s heart rate increased rapidly at her self revelation. She has loved you this entire time. God, she was so fucking blind. How could she not see what was right in front of her? She was madly in love with you. She let the things the Red Room drilled into her affect your relationship. Now, she wasn’t sure if she’d have the opportunity to make it up to you. That thought scared Natasha more than any mission ever could.

•❅────────✧❅✦❅✧─────────❅•

1 hour later

An hour later, and the entire team was sprawled across the hallway of the medical wing. Wanda sat beside Natasha on the floor, comfortingly holding her hand. The rest of the team just stood, anxiously and impatiently waiting to hear about your status.

At the sound of the medical bay door opening, Natasha shot up from her spot on the floor and looked towards Helen Cho. “What’s her status? Is she okay? Did she make it?” Natasha immediately fired off questions at the Doctor. The team stood firmly behind Natasha as they looked at Dr. Cho, their eyes asking her the same questions Natasha did.

“She coded on the table a few times. The bullets hit some major arteries, but we managed to stop the bleeding. If she had arrived even a minute later than she did, she wouldn’t have made it.” The relief of the good news radiated off of earth’s mightiest heroes. Natasha almost let tears escape her eyes, but quickly blinked them back.

“Can I see her?” Natasha asked desperately. “Yes you can, but shes still asleep. The anesthesia was very strong so she’ll be out for a few more hours.” Helen spoke as she opened the door for Natasha. She entered and let out a sigh of relief as she caught sight of your chest rising and falling steadily. Natasha grabbed a nearby chair and placed it right beside your bed. She lightly stroked your hair before she gripped your hand.

•❅────────✧❅✦❅✧─────────❅•

3 hours later

You groaned as you slowly open your eyes and were met with an obnoxiously bright light hovering over you. You heard some shuffling before the light was shut off. You turned your head towards the other person in the room and you rolled your eyes at who it was.

“If you’re here to be an asshole, please leave. I’m not in the mood for it.” You spoke as you watched Natasha sit back down in the chair next to your bed.

“I’m not here for that. I wanted to apologize, Y/N. You were right, I was a bitch. You didn’t deserve the way I treated you, but I was just afraid.” Natasha began to speak as she seemingly appeared nervous. You’ve never seen her nervous before, you’re pretty sure no one ever has.

“I was so terrified because I love you. Everyone I love ends up leaving me, and I couldn’t watch you leave me. So, I thought it was best if I beat you to the punch.” Natasha looked down to her lap and played with her fingers absentmindedly. Your eyes widened as far as they could go at Natasha’s words. She loved you. She actually, verbally said it. That’s a huge fucking deal.

“I know my logic may not make the best sense, but what does make sense is the fact that I love you. I always have and I was just too stupid to tell you. I’m sorry, I love you so much.” Natasha spoke as she tore her gaze from her hands and up to your eyes.

You reached your hand out for hers and she shakily took your hand in hers. You almost let out a gasp at the contact, you missed her touch so much. “I won’t ever leave you, Natasha because I love you too. I’m sorry too. I was just as afraid as you were. We were both stupid.” You let out a little laugh at your last words. Natasha let out a chuckle as a tear fell from her eyes. Oh god, you’ve never seen her cry either.

“You scared me. I thought you weren’t going to make it. When I saw your body being wheeled down here…. all the blood… I-“ Natasha words were cut off as you smashed your lips against hers. You winced as the pain from your gunshot wounds radiated across your body, but you couldn’t care less about that right now. The only thing that mattered in this moment was that the woman you loved, loved you too. You’d never be afraid to express your love for her ever again.

───────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

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cherienymphe · 3 years

Text

Cruel Intentions (Steve Rogers x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, manipulation, mentions of abuse, therapist!Steve, silverfox!Steve, drugging

! DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU !

➥ Image by @angrybirdcr

➥ dividers by @firefly-graphics

This is for the “For the Fic” challenge whose winner for my fic was @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

The entire plot was her request and I hope that you like it!

summary: after escaping an abusive ex, you find solace in a therapist recommended to you by a friend.

“...I know I shouldn’t...but sometimes I blame myself. In Harry, I know that I was looking for what I never had in my family. I think it made me quick to rush into things...to ignore what I should have seen.”

Your eyes remained on the dark carpet, the man before you humming as the scribbling sound of his pen reached your ears. You fought hard not to fidget, a horrible habit you’d picked up in the last 3 years. You finally lifted your head again when the room was bathed in silence, eyes meeting familiar blue ones as he studied you.

You were used to these short moments of silence by now.

You’d been recommended to Dr. Steve Rogers by a friend, a friend who’d helped you escape your violent ex in the dead of night while he’d been away on business. She had grown worried when it became obvious that the effects of your tumultuous relationship would be lasting if you didn’t do something about it. Oddly enough, you’d been receptive. For 2 whole years, you’d wanted to tell someone, have anyone to turn to and talk to, but fear, a very valid fear, had stopped you.

Not only had you been worried for your life, something that was threatened on a constant basis, but you’d also been afraid of judgement. You worried what your friends would say, if they’d blame you for finding yourself in such a predicament, if they’d look down on you for no longer fighting back. It was only by a stroke of luck that Nakia had seen Harry slap you right across the face when he thought she’d left. You were grateful that she’d waited for him to leave before rushing towards your trembling frame, pulling you into her arms as she shushed you.

She had demanded to know how long this had been going on. She had been horrified and confused and angry. It didn’t take her long to come up with a plan, and within 2 weeks, after waiting for Harry to leave the city for 2 days, she’d gotten you out and into her place across town. You didn’t stay for long, maybe a few weeks, wanting nothing but to put it all behind you, and although she was sad to see you go, she understood.

It was how you found yourself in upstate New York, in a secluded tiny thing of a house. You hadn’t even realized that you’d become something of a recluse until Nakia had pointed it out during one of your weekly calls. It had never hit you that you went to work and to home and that was it. You barely ate anymore, so grocery shopping was never a frequent affair. That was when she’d told you about a well known therapist in the area, Steven G. Rogers. You had been shocked by how much you weren’t opposed to the idea as she went on listing all of his credentials.

It was only moments after she hung up that you found yourself researching him yourself. You remembered noting how handsome the man was, even more so in person. His bright blue eyes and silver tresses complimented his strong features nicely, pink lips pulled up into a polite smile. You didn’t find yourself put off by the stranger, thinking to yourself that talking to someone you didn’t know, an objective listener who was paid not to judge you, might be for the best.

You soon found out that was easier said than done.

The first visit had been rocky, barely mumbling a thing and constantly fidgeting. You had hardly been able to meet his eye, and the session had abruptly ended when you’d left early, stumbling over your words as you gave some half assed excuse for your sudden departure. He was far more understanding than you deserved during your second visit. Wracked with guilt and anxiety, you’d written some things down that you wanted to talk about, and thankfully, the man hadn’t laughed at you. In fact, you remembered how fondly he looked at you as you unfolded it.

As it turned out, you didn’t need the slip of paper at all. Notes forgotten, you had rambled on for an hour. It was like once you started, you just couldn’t stop, and Steve simply listened the entire time. The next time he spoke to you was only to tell you that your time was up, and both embarrassment and disappointment had flooded through you. It must have been obvious, plain as day on your features, because Steve reassured you that it was normal to ramble.

You had been reluctant to leave. After years of biting your tongue and living in fear of even making the wrong sound, you finally found someone to listen. Even if it was only a stranger getting paid for it, it was still something. There was someone to express your fears to, and although it had taken some time, terrified that you’d say the wrong thing and upset him, eventually, you started to express your anger too.

“...and then I get angry all over again,” you continued when he said nothing. “...because I’m smart, because red flags in others’ relationships have always been so obvious to me. I’ve always been the mom friend, the one who can spot trouble before it even starts. I’ve helped friends get out of situations before they even had the chance to turn sour…”

You shook your head.

“...and yet...it took a slap to the face to realize just how deep I was in? Not the jealousy, not the anger issues nor the way he’d isolated me from just about everyone in my life...but a slap? It should’ve never gotten to that.”

“You can’t blame yourself for the actions of others.”

It wasn’t the first time you’d heard that. Hell, it wasn’t even the first time he’d told you that, and yet here you were again.

“We can go in circles analyzing your own behavior and the things you did and the things you said, but the truth is that you could play it out in your head a million times. You could do every single thing differently, and it still wouldn’t change a thing.”

The corner of his lips lifted into a crooked smile, a familiar sight.

“Some people are simply cruel, and it has nothing at all to do with you.”

You sharply inhaled, unsure of why such a simple statement resonated with you so deeply. You stared at Steve, blinking a few times, opening your mouth to respond when he glanced at the clock. It was a tell tale sign, and your shoulders sagged. You would think that after seeing him for 7 months now, you’d be used to leaving after only an hour, but it never got easier.

“That’s all the time we have for today,” he said, standing. “You’re progressing nicely, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes, and he chuckled, eyes crinkling.

“You are. Progress and healing isn’t linear. Sometimes you’re going to take 2 steps back before you can take 10 more forward. It’s all part of the process,” he assured you.

You sighed.

“Well… I guess that does make me feel a bit better,” you replied.

He sent you a small smile as he guided you towards the door.

“I’ll see you next week?”

You returned his smile with a nod and didn’t let your face fall until the door was shut behind you. The good thing about therapy was that you could recognize your own toxic behaviors now, and it was clear that you were becoming reliant on your sessions with Steve. You had never liked being alone, but you had come all the way out here to learn to do just that. For your sake, you needed to learn to love being alone. It was how you had gotten into this mess to begin with.

Your phone vibrated with a call from an unknown number, and figuring it was a scam call, you silenced it.

Your house was practically in the middle of nowhere, so when the tv wasn’t blasting or you didn’t have Spotify playing some light tune, the house could get scarily quiet. But that was what you wanted...right? Harry had always been so explosive. The smallest of things could set him off and then the sound of yelling and shattering glass would rain down on you. Silence and solitude was what you wanted, needed.

Your phone buzzed again as you settled into your car, and you huffed when you noticed it was the same number. Again, you weren’t unfamiliar with scam callers so you ignored it. You noted that you needed to go grocery shopping, but you weren’t on the precipice of starvation just yet, so it could hold off for another day. By the time you got inside, your phone had started to buzz again, and with a frown, you decided to answer it.

“Hello?”

You were met with silence as you unlocked your door, and you repeated yourself, but there was no response. With a sigh, you hung up the phone. You both loved and hated coming home. It was quiet and safe and everything you had craved for years now, but the unfamiliarity of it all unnerved you. Sometimes you were just waiting for Harry to come flying through the door, screaming and breaking things. You had to remind yourself that this silence, this security, is how it’s supposed to be.

You went about making a quick meal, hopping into the shower while leaving the stove on low. When you got out, in the process of moisturizing your arms, you noticed your phone buzzing with another call. From that same number. Unease filled you as you neared it, and you hesitantly reached for it before answering.

Again, you were met with silence, and frustrated and annoyed, you simply blocked the number. A quick look through your phone revealed that you’d missed several calls from the same number while in the bathroom. Blinking with a deepening frown, you set your phone down and made your way to your kitchen. Dinner, like always these days, was quiet. You curled up on the couch with your plate while you watched some old sitcom.

The rest of the night passed as blandly as it always did. Sleep was much easier to find these days, so you had no trouble as soon as your head hit the pillow. However, just as you were on the verge, your phone buzzed with another call. This number didn’t match the previous one, but it was unknown nonetheless. With a groan, you put your phone on silent and rolled over, sleep claiming you.

“I know it’s you,” you sneered into the phone.

Unsurprisingly, you were met with the faint sound of breathing, and you clenched your jaw. You slammed the car door behind you before stomping across the parking lot.

“I know it’s you,” you quietly repeated. “Stay away from me.”

You hung up before blocking the number, the 10th number you had blocked in the past week. Every few hours or so a day, like clockwork, you got calls from an unknown number. You’d always end up blocking the number after the first few calls, but they always called again from a different one. At first, they’d say nothing, and you’d listen to silence for a few seconds before hanging up. Now, they’d taken to breathing in your ear like a creep. It wasn’t even until you blocked the 3rd number did it finally hit you.

Harry.

Harry freaking Osborn.

You felt like such an idiot for not putting it together sooner. Of course, it was Harry. Was this not the same man who threatened to hunt you down and drag you back like some animal if you ever left him? You had always equated woman beaters to cowards so you never thought he’d have the nerve to actually do it. Putting the pieces together didn’t bring you any comfort. Your filthy rich abusive ex had managed to track you down. What comfort was there to find in that?

Since that day, you hadn’t had a proper night of sleep. Your mind was constantly at war with itself on what to do. Having been down this road before, you knew the police would be no help. You’d gone to them once before, at the very beginning after the first time he’d hit you. It was your first harsh lesson that money ruled over everything. If you thought hard enough, you could still recall his hands around your throat, eyes alight with anger at what you’d tried to pull.

Still, you considered at least trying to get a restraining order but at the end of the day, that was a mere piece of paper. If Harry came to your door, it wasn’t going to stop him from hurting you, and that’s even if the whole process went through. They don’t just give restraining orders out willy nilly. You tried not to dwell on that hypothetical situation, but if he’d found your number, it would only be a matter of time before he found your address.

“Oh!”

You’d only just entered the grocery store, barely stepping into an aisle when you bumped into someone. The chips and bread in his hands went flying to the floor, and apologies tumbled from your lips. It was only after you helped him pick up what you made him drop did you realize who you’d run into.

“Dr. Rogers...hi,” you breathed.

The corner of his lips pulled into a crooked smile, head tilting to the side as his gaze fell onto you.

“We’ve discussed this before, Y/N. You’re more than welcome to call me Steve,” he told you.

You gave a nervous chuckle, nodding.

“Yeah...uh… I normally do, it just...it just slipped my mind,” you replied.

He blinked at you, eyes narrowing just a bit as he studied you. His brows furrowed in that concerned way you were used to, a silver strand of hair kissing his forehead.

“Everything okay…?”

You folded your arms over your chest, nodding with a strained smile.

“Everything’s fine,” you lied. “It’s just… It’s been a weird week. Our next session cannot come fast enough.”

You forced a light laugh, and he joined you. He placed a hand on his hip, eyes boring into your own.

“There’s a coffee shop just over there,” he gestured. “Did you want to sit and have a chat?”

You frantically shook your head.

“Oh, no. I couldn’t,” you told him. “I-.”

“I know I’m your therapist, but I want you to think of me as a confidant outside of the office too. You’re more than welcome to talk to me anytime. In fact, I encourage it,” he interrupted.

You nervously eyed him with a frown.

“Are...are you sure?”

His smile was comforting.

“This may be my job, but it’s one I chose because it’s one I enjoy. I don’t want you to feel like you’re only allowed to talk to me during our sessions,” he quietly said.

You bit your lip, and Steve continued.

“I’d hate to think that you’re bottling things up for days on end, suffering in silence because you’re just waiting to talk to me,” he confessed.

Your shoulders sagged, and you hesitantly nodded.

“...okay. I just need to get a few things for the house.”

“Okay,” he said with a smile. “You know where to find me.”

You parted ways, and a sigh escaped you. You really didn’t want to become reliant on Steve. Wasn’t the whole point of therapy to learn how to process your feelings and cope with them better? Running to your therapist every time you have a problem just seemed counterproductive. And yet, once your car was loaded up with the few items you bought, you found yourself making your way to the coffee shop.

After ordering a small drink, you easily spotted Steve at a table in the back. You noted that even outside of your sessions, he still dressed nicely. The dark button down he wore contrasted with his light hair, dark slacks making him appear taller. You felt simultaneously nervous and comforted as you settled across from him. There was a brief silence, one in which you sipped on your drink while he eyed you before finally speaking.

“So what’s on your mind?”

What a loaded question. You struggled over whether or not to tell him the truth. Your abusive ex had found you somehow and was currently harassing you. That’s not something you could just casually drop into the conversation. Besides, Steve was your therapist, not your friend. You didn’t think it fair to rope him into the drama with your ex. That wasn’t part of his job description. Right?

“Just sleepless nights,” you said.

It wasn’t a complete lie. Steve eyed you like he was waiting for you to continue, blue eyes soft.

“I’m also worried that...my past might not remain in the past.”

Once again, this wasn’t a complete lie.

“How so?” Steve hummed.

“I can’t help but wonder about what will happen if Harry finds me. He always threatened that he would if I ever left, and while I never believed him before, I just keep wondering… What if he does?”

Steve tilted his head at you, and you leaned back in your seat with a sigh.

“I’ve moved all the way out here to get away from him. I’ve isolated myself because I thought it was for the best, but it would have the opposite effect if he ever found me. I’ve never been particularly close with my family as you well know, and I’ve left all of my friends. I’m all alone here, and it’s the worst thing to be if he ever did track me down.”

Like always, you had started to ramble, and you snapped your mouth closed, embarrassment flooding through you.

“What brought all of this on?”

Steve’s eyes were sincere as he ran them over you, handsome face twisted in concern, and you glanced away.

“Just thinking,” you lamely replied, eyes on your drink now. “It’s something I’ve always thought about, sure, but it’s been more pressing as of late.”

“Well...that’s what I’m here for. You shouldn’t have to deal with these thoughts alone,” he eventually said.

“I know,” you sighed, rubbing your temples. “...but I shouldn’t become so reliant on you. The whole point of therapy is to learn to deal with these things on my own, is it not?”

Steve exhaled, leaning back in his seat as he gazed at you.

“Not necessarily. Not always,” he answered. “...but even then, until you can get to that point, it’s best to lean into your support. After all, you’ve gotta crawl before you can walk, right?”

You nodded, taking in his words.

“...and even when you’re walking, you usually need someone there in the beginning to hold your hand in case you fall. I encourage you to talk to your friends more, maybe even branch out and find some friends here, but I’m here as well. Don’t halt any of your progress because you feel like you need to be dealing with this alone. Outside help does more for your progress than you’d think.”

“I guess that does make sense. I don’t know… I just- I’d feel so bad about showing up at your office throughout all hours of the day or calling your receptionist-.”

You cut yourself off when he took out a pen and a slip of paper.

“Here,” he said, scribbling a number on it before handing it to you. “This is my personal number.”

Your eyes widened.

“Oh, I can’t-.”

“It’s fine, trust me.”

You hesitantly returned his smile, taking the piece of paper.

“Don’t hesitate to call me anytime you want to,” he told you, standing.

You joined him, fingering the note before sliding it into your pocket.

“Thank you…Steve. I don’t know if I’ll ever actually call you, but just knowing that I have the option makes me feel so much better,” you whispered.

You heard his pager go off, and you watched as he glanced at it. He let out a sigh, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he sounded disappointed.

“I’ve got to go, but I hope you’ll use that number if you need to.”

Thanking him again, you said your goodbyes, and you watched as he exited the shop. The slip of paper felt heavy in your pocket, so you solved that by putting his number into your phone. Just as you were about to put it back into your purse, it buzzed with a call from an unknown number. Fear settled into your gut, and with a grimace, you silenced the call and blocked the number.

You were late. You were so late it was laughable to even show up at this point. Your shoes tapped against the tile as the numbers on the elevator lit up as it passed each floor. You slipped through the doors as soon as they parted, and with no mind to check in, the receptionist calling your name, you raced towards Steve’s office. You reached his door just as he opened it to step out, and the papers that he was holding scattered to the floor as you collided with him. You hadn’t even realized how fast you’d been running until you were knocked on your ass.

You could hear the heels of the receptionist as she ran over, apologizing to Steve for letting you slip past her, but he waved her off. She reluctantly returned to her desk, and you scrambled to sit up, reaching for everything that had fallen.

“I was beginning to think you’d never show,” Steve joked.

You gave a shaky laugh.

“I uh...I got caught up,” you replied through trembling lips, fingers shaking as you struggled to stack all of his paperwork.

You could feel Steve’s eyes on you, but you avoided his gaze.

“I know I’m late. Our hour is practically over, but I- I just… Um, crap.”

You had dropped the papers all over again, and you both reached for them at the same time. At least, that was what you thought. Steve’s hands covered yours, and you only just realized how badly they were shaking.

“Y/N.”

His voice was soft, exactly what you needed right now, but you couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Y/N, is everything alright?”

Your chest was tight, and you wanted to will your lips to form a yes. You wanted to tell him that everything was fine, but you couldn’t even get the words out. He called your name again, and you suddenly stood, taking the papers with you. You handed them to him as he followed your lead, still avoiding his eye.

“I’m sorry for being late, and I know that you probably have another session-.”

“I don’t,” he interrupted. “Come in.”

You glanced up from beneath your lashes as he opened the door, ushering you inside. You wrapped your arms around yourself as he shut the door behind you.

“Is everything okay?”

You turned your face away from him, unable to keep it from crumbling as you held in a sob.

“Y/N.”

The way he called your name had you freezing in place, a shiver running through you at his firm tone, authority in the one simple word. In a way, it reminded you of Harry, and you looked to him with wide eyes. Seeming to understand what he’d done, Steve sighed before sitting down, making himself appear smaller to show that he wasn’t a threat to you.

“I’m sorry,” he genuinely apologized. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. Please...sit.”

You hesitantly did so and reached out to take the tissue he offered you. You hadn’t even realized that you’d started crying.

“Now… I’m going to ask you again, and I’m begging you to please be honest with me. I’m here to help you in any way I can,” he whispered.

You wiped your face, sinking your teeth into your lip.

“It’s...Harry.”

Steve’s face was pinched with concern.

“What is it? Are you having nightmares again-?”

“No, you don’t understand. He’s calling me,” you confessed.

Steve froze, blinking a few times before his eyes widened, your words finally registering. You sniffed, fighting to hold in a sob.

“It started weeks ago, before we ran into each other that night…”

You didn’t miss the disappointment that flitted over his features, lips pressed together.

“...and I know I should’ve said something then-.”

“You should’ve called me.”

“I know! I know, but… I don’t know. I just wanted to handle this on my own,” you quietly said.

He didn’t respond, and you turned your eyes towards the window.

“Last time...I wasn’t able to get away on my own. I wanted it to be different this time. At first, I simply blocked him but he kept calling and calling from different numbers. Then I got a new phone...and eventually another, but it’s still the same. He keeps finding me,” you tearfully told him. “...and today…”

Your eyes met his, and you were comforted by the concern you saw there.

“Today I was at the police station. That’s why I was late.”

Steve straightened up at this.

“I thought that maybe I could get a restraining order or maybe they could trace the calls to show that it’s him, but the whole visit was useless. They boiled it down to petty relationship drama, and since there’s no record of his violent behavior because I never reported anything…”

You shrugged, scoffing.

“There’s basically nothing they can do. The whole visit was a waste,” you spat.

Steve heaved a sigh, and he slowly reached out towards you, leaning forward.

“I didn’t ask before, but… Is it alright if I hold your hand?”

You nodded. That was what you liked about Steve. He was always asking for your consent with just about everything, even the simplest of things, and it was such a nice contrast to Harry who used to feel like he was entitled to your body. Steve took your hand, throwing you a comforting smile as he eyed you, worried.

“I wish that you had called me,” he said.

You looked down, guilt filling you.

“I could have helped you before it ever got to this point. I have friends on the force, friends in high places who could lock this creep up if you wanted.”

“I feel like an idiot.”

Of course Steve, Dr. Steven Rogers, knew people who could help you. Of course he did! Your stubbornness had gotten you far deeper into this than necessary.

“What have I said about self deprecating language?”

“Sorry,” you murmured.

“You’re not an idiot. Don’t talk about yourself like that. You’re just a woman trying to find her strength again.”

You hesitantly nodded, and he brushed his thumb over the back of your hand.

“I want you to get rid of your phone,” he suggested.

You frowned, and he continued before you could question him.

“I’ll work on getting a new one for you. A secure one under my name.”

You frowned, not liking the idea of being so indebted to him.

“Steve, I don’t know-.”

“It’ll only be temporary. You can use it until I talk to some people and have him properly dealt with.”

Even though you weren’t keen on the idea, you reluctantly agreed.

“...and you have to promise me one thing…”

You eyed him, holding his gaze as you waited for him to continue.

“Promise me that you’ll call me the second he bothers you again,” he proposed.

Accepting the fact that your stubbornness was doing you more harm than good, you nodded. Steve seemed pleased with that, and with one last pat on your hand, he let you go. As he guided you out of your office, your phone in his hand, you felt more hopeful than you had in over a month. You felt so silly for not seeking out his help sooner, and you couldn’t deny the weight that had been lifted from your shoulders as you settled into your car.

True to his word, at your next session, Steve presented you with a new phone. It had all of your important contacts with Steve being at the top of the list. Embarrassment had flooded you as you thanked him with tears in your eyes. The week without your phone had been the most peace you’d had in a while, and you finally got some much needed rest.

“You haven’t heard anything from him, have you?” he’d asked you.

“No,” you answered, shaking your head. “Not a peep.”

He threw you that same smile that always brought you comfort.

“Good. Even if you never do, you’re always free to call me,” he’d reminded you.

Finally deciding to let your stubbornness go, you did. Talking to Steve outside of your sessions was easier than you thought it’d be. It was like talking to a friend. Sometimes you’d meet up at that same coffee shop not too far from his office, and other times you’d be putting a quick meal together while he was on the other line, listening to you ramble. You soon realized that it wasn’t just his profession that made him that way, but Steve truly was an unbiased listener. He never judged you for any steps back in your progress nor for any of your more self deprecating thoughts.

Best of all, you hadn’t heard anything more from Harry.

Not until he knocked on your door one night.

It was late when you’d heard the pounding on the wood, and having been watching tv in your room, you wondered if you imagined it. It was only moments later that you’d heard it again. Your eyes had widened, sitting up in alarm. No one knew you lived here. Not even your mailman. All of your mail collected at a Post Office box before you eventually went to pick it up. You stood, standing in your room, trembling in fear before a knock on your bedroom window had you screaming.

You didn’t hesitate to call the police, and it took longer than you liked for them to arrive. All the while, you dealt with knocking and pounding on your window and door. Back and forth, it alternated with minutes in between before stopping altogether when the sound of sirens could be heard. Unsurprisingly, and frustratingly, the police didn’t find anyone.

“Look, we’ll get this report down to the station,” the brunette had told you, not looking concerned in the least.

Frustration filled you, and you shuffled on your feet.

“Can’t you...idk, have someone stay here? Not even the whole night but just a few hours in case they come back?”

The tall man sighed, and you glanced at his badge. Officer Barnes, you noted.

“With all due respect mam, we can’t just have one of our officers sitting in your yard because someone knocked on your door-.”

“I told you-!”

“I know, I know. The windows too,” he said, sounding exasperated, and your frown deepened. “The best we can do is get this down to the station. You’re more than welcome to call us again should anyone come back.”

You crossed your arms over your chest as they left, finding no relief. You swallowed as you thought about Steve. You didn’t want to, but Harry had found you, tormenting you by knocking on your house in the dead of night. This was exactly the reason Steve had given you his number. Swallowing down your stubbornness, and with a deep breath, you called him.

He didn’t sound like he was asleep, and for that you were grateful. You would’ve kicked yourself if you had woken him up. Finally getting out why you’d called him was an awkward affair, stumbling over your words, and you felt even worse as he agreed to come over. There was no hesitation, and you couldn’t help but feel as if you were taking advantage of Steve’s generosity.

You mumbled out your address, surprised to realize how relieved you were. You couldn’t remember the last time you had trusted a man this much. Harry had made you so paranoid, but you supposed that was what therapy was for. This was why you had all those sessions with Steve. To learn to heal and to trust again.

You opened the door with a small smile when he finally pulled into your yard. He was dressed comfortably, and you felt much better about your own ratty t-shirt and leggings, but his casual attire made him no less striking.

“Thank you,” you breathed as he stepped inside.

“I was up going over paperwork when you called. I’m glad you did,” he told you.

You leaned against the door as you closed it, rubbing your arms.

“I didn’t know if I should. It’s just… He was here, Steve. Knocking on my door and window like something out of a horror movie, and the police treated it like it was nothing,” you complained.

Steve tilted his head at you with a sad smile.

“First thing in the morning, I’m going to make some more calls. Since he’s in town, it should be easy to have him put away. At the very least, a restraining order.”

Relief and hope filled you as you brushed past him.

“I really can’t thank you enough for coming over. I promise I won’t keep you long, just until I feel I can be ok being alone,” you said over your shoulder.

He followed you into the kitchen.

“Can I get you anything to drink? Eat? It’s the least I can do.”

“Some wine might be nice. You might want to pour yourself a glass too,” he suggested.

You chuckled, and he joined you, but you agreed with him nonetheless. You poured a glass for both of you, and you leaned against the counter with a sigh.

“I just don’t understand why he can’t leave me alone. Hasn’t he put me through enough?”

Steve hummed.

“From what you’ve told me, he strikes me as a narcissist. I’d bet that he doesn’t want you to move on,” he mused.

“Maybe,” you distractedly replied as you heard your phone ring. “I’ll be right back. Let me grab that super quick, it might be Nakia.”

Your phone was in your room, but by the time you reached it, it had stopped ringing. Sure enough, it was a missed call from your best friend, and you brought your phone with you to the kitchen, determined to call her back. Steve’s eyes were fond when you returned, and you shrugged.

“I need to call her back. I’ll only be a moment,” you said, swiping your glass.

“Take all the time you need.”

You made your way to the living room, taking your place on the couch as you called her back. She answered almost immediately.

“Hey, what’s up?”

She greeted you with a soft exhale.

“Uh… Harry’s...dead.”

You froze at her words, pulling the glass away from your lips. You blinked a few times, trying to come to terms with what she’d said.

“...what?”

“I just found out. I honestly didn’t know how you’d take the news, but I thought you should know.”

She was right. You yourself didn’t even know how you felt about this news. You had loved this man at one point...but he was also your abuser. This was good news...right?

“How?” you finally asked her.

She sighed.

“Apparently, he’d been missing for months-.”

“Months?”

“Yeah,” she quietly replied. “They found and identified his body today. I just saw it on the news.”

Your stomach twisted as the truth, and the meaning behind it, sank in. Just because Harry had been missing for months, it didn’t mean that he’d been dead for months. It very well could have been him harassing you like you believed. But...if they’d found and identified his body today, then there was no way it was him at your house tonight.

“Thank you,” you eventually said. “Um… I’m glad you told me.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” you honestly replied. “I’m just a little unsure of how I feel about all of this, but I’ll call you tomorrow when I’ve slept on it.”

“Alright. Be safe.”

You said your goodbyes and returned to the kitchen with an empty glass.

“Everything okay?” Steve questioned.

Your face must have been an open book.

“Harry’s dead,” you scoffed, blinking as you still fought to process this.

Steve didn’t respond, and just like one of your sessions, he seemed to be waiting for you to continue.

“Apparently he’d been missing for months and they just identified his body today. There’s no way it could have been him knocking on my door tonight, and now...now I’m even more scared than I was before,” you confessed. “God, I can’t even fully come to terms with my feelings on this because I’m realizing that Harry might not have been the only thing I should’ve been afraid of.”

“Hey,” Steve soothingly said, nearing you. “Are you sure it wasn’t someone who got lost? Maybe they had the wrong house?”

You thought about it before shaking your head.

“No, it definitely didn’t seem like that. Oh my God,” you cried, letting your head fall into your hands.

Steve pulled you into his arms, startling you, but you eventually relaxed, the wine settling into your system nicely.

“It’s going to be alright-.”

“What if it isn’t? Because I’m the idiot who thought that Harry was the only possible danger out there, I’ve attracted another without even realizing it.”

“Hey, hey,” he soothed. “Maybe it was nothing, and maybe it was more. Either way, I’m only a phone call away. Say the word, and I’ll have an officer living in your yard if need be.”

You chuckled at that, and nodded.

“Thank you,” you said, looking at him. “I-.”

You swallowed your words when his lips met yours, soft and demanding as they moved against your own. You were stunned, and it took you a moment to realize just what was happening before you pulled away. You stared at Steve with wide eyes, hesitantly reaching up to touch your lips as you took a step back.

“Steve…”

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he breathed.

Your lips parted, a soft gasp escaping you at both his words and the fire in his gaze. It was so sudden and great that it froze you.

“Steve, I think… I think you should go,” you whispered, almost in disbelief.

He frowned at you, tilting his head just a tad as he folded his arms over his chest.

“Go? Why would I do that when you’re not feeling well?”

You opened your mouth to repeat yourself, even demand to know what he meant, but a sudden wave of nausea hit you, head feeling fuzzy. Steve caught you just as you stumbled, and you frowned, fighting to get out of his arms.

“What…?”

“You seemed really tense. I thought you could use something to take the edge off…”

You stared at him in disbelief, attempting to blink away the stars in your vision. Your legs felt like they were made of Jell-O as Steve guided you towards the living room. He deposited you on the couch, and you could hardly do anything as he laid you down, sitting beside you. His blue eyes, normally so soft and comforting, were dark with a longing you had never seen before.

“You were like a wounded little lamb when you first came to me,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over your lip. “So lost...broken… It’s because of me that you’re even halfway back together again.”

His hands moved to slowly undress you, taking his time, and your hands might as well had been air as you tried to stop him. You shuddered as the cool air in the house hit you, nipples pebbling, even more so when Steve brushed his fingers over them.

“I wanted to wrap you in my arms during that first session. Drag you back as you tried to leave, show you how a woman should be touched by a man.”

You were in a state of shock, disbelief coursing through you as you watched Steve undress. Even at his age, the man was a wall of muscle, thick bands making you swallow in fear as you hopelessly tried to tell yourself that this was a dream.

“Steve,” you whispered.

“I had to be patient. I didn’t want to scare you off, push you into the arms of another dangerous man. I had to help you heal before showing the kind of man I can be for you,” he told you, fingers on your face as he neared you again.

Your whole body felt weighed down, and you couldn’t stop your tears even if you wanted to. Your touch was light as you pressed your hands to his chest, feeling like you were going to be sick as he settled over you.

“Harry is gone. He can’t hurt you anymore, and I’m going to make sure no one ever hurts you again.”

The irony was not lost on you, but the way he said that struck something in you, and your mind traveled to the unthinkable. You didn’t get the chance to think about it some more before Steve was forcing himself inside of you. A choking noise escaped you as he filled you to the hilt, your legs spread wide to accommodate his frame. Steve released a shuddering breath, breathing through his nose, body trembling as he delighted in the feel of you wrapped around him.

It was amazing that while all of your senses felt dulled, you could feel his pulsing member inside of you so well. He surrounded you, bulky frame caging you in, and you felt like you would pass out from suffocation. Steve sighed just before his lips met yours, and your stomach clenched as he moved within you. A broken moan slipped out against your will, and Steve groaned at the sound.

“I’ll show you pleasure that you’ve never known, touch you in ways you never felt. I know how to make you happy,” he purred, his pace languid as he thrust in and out of you.

You turned your head away, the furniture of your living room blurring together from whatever he’d slipped into your drink.

“I know your deepest desires and your deepest fears. I know you better than anyone else out there…”

You hated that in a way, Steve was right. You’d bared yourself to him under the guise of trust and healing. He really did know all there was to know about you, and you hated yourself for it. You hated him for hiding his intentions so well, for taking advantage of your vulnerability and trauma. He tutted as you started to squirm beneath him.

“After all I’ve done for you...in all the ways I’ve helped you, the least you could do is give yourself to me. I deserve to reap the benefits of my efforts-.”

You gasped beneath him, legs kicking around him, but he only pressed himself more firmly against you.

“...I’ve gone out of my way to make sure you were safe, to protect you so that no more threats remained to you nor our relationship.”

“You’re crazy-.”

You cut yourself off with a yelp as he nipped at your neck, jerking in his hold as he continued to snap his hips into yours. His hands were gentle on you, a contrast to how he fucked you, his pace increasing with every passing minute. Despite the fact that you could hardly move, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you in place as the sound of your coupling filled the room, your core now wet and slick from his ministrations.

Steve seemed intoxicated, blissfully immersed in the feel of you and how you clung to him. His low groans and moans filled your ear, and you could do nothing as he covered your lips again, tongue tasting you, moaning at the taste of wine that still remained.

“My touch will never cause you harm, bringing you nothing but pleasure for the rest of our lives.”

tags: @xoxabs88xox @harryspet @readermia @opheliadawnwalker3 @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi @lokislastlove @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @hyoyeoniie @sherrybaby14 @cocoamoonmalfoy @mandiiblanche @gotnofucks @oneoftheprettynerds @doozywoozy @sapphirescrolls @threeminutesoflife @searchforanotherway @mcudarklibrary @buckybarnesplumwhore @widowsmaximoff @nerdygirl8203 @supernaturalwintersoldier @charmed-asylum @harrysthiccthighss @patzammit

#dark steve rogers #dark steve x reader #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader

1K notes · View notes

svchengss · 3 years

Text

king of hearts | d.sc

PAIRING. dong sicheng x reader

GENRE. high school!au, fluff, slight angst, kind of e2l

WARNINGS. none (lmk if i missed any!)

WORD COUNT. 6.7k

SUMMARY. sicheng’s subtle flirts are not working effectively but it only motivates him to try and woo you more. the devil sure works hard but dong sicheng works harder.

PLAYLIST. king of hearts

TAGLIST. @floraljae @clovdless @mashiihearts @ndr1271 @kunrengui (shoutout to mashi for being a major help in the process of writing this <3)

// just to let you guys know, reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !! thank you for reading :D

music was blaring through the multiple loudspeakers scattered around the school grounds, booths of various interests that were set-up by the clubs being swarmed by visitors and ecstatic oohs and aahs from the ones playing games can be heard intermittently. the annual school festival of redlands high, an event that is looked forward to by every single student there. or maybe not, you’re quite unsure of the self-made data.

you immediately made a beeline to the dance club booth which is managed by yangyang, the president also holding the title of your best friend. a cartoonish grin crept up on his face when he spots you walking towards him.

“so, what do you think? looks legit, huh?” he crossed his arms together, observing the design of the booth with a proud smile. the set-up is definitely eye-catching, not much decorations going on, adding to the simplicity of the white theme with gold touch-ups. you browsed through the plastered posters on the board, inviting people to sign up for their upcoming audition. looking up to the signboard hanging outside, you showed a thumbs up towards him, muttering a quick ‘perfect’.

“so what exactly is your booth doing? there’s not much… activity going on?” you scratched the non-existent itch on your left eyebrow. the boy in front of you gave you an eye roll before explaining that there will be mini dance games - or just dance as he worded. an amused sound left your lips as you bent down, dropping your signature in the guestbook on the wooden table.

“are you coming to the stage shows tonight? i heard there’s a new band performing,” your ears perked up instinctively upon hearing the words. after your sister graduated high school, nobody paid any attention to keep the band going. the zikas, a trio that made the music club strive back then. either the newer batches were too lazy to make an effort or too scared if they weren’t up to the already high standards of the school.

“i’m going if you’re going,” you simply stated, which made yangyang flash you the same grin from before. you said your simple goodbyes when people started lining up to try the just dance game at his booth. after he reminded you to wait for him by the statue, you went off to check out the food sales, eager to fill your growling stomach since this morning.

you can do this, sicheng. you can do this.

he made sure to double check the tuning of his guitar for one last time before joining the rest of his bandmates on the stage. his tall and slim physique surely left an impact, seeing that some of the audience suddenly became more invested in the performance compared to the others. he’s wearing some band’s shirt - probably green day since it’s quite similar to your sister’s posters in her room, black leather jacket and his black hair middle parted. not to miss the silver pendant necklace on his neck, sparkling under the spotlight.

the moment he struck the pick through the strings of his electric guitar, the drummer and bassist followed after, producing a melody that is pleasing to your ears. he held the microphone closer to his mouth, singing the lyrics as you bobbed your head up and down to the covers they sang - american idiot and helena are the ones you recognized since you’ve heard the songs so often. yangyang on the other hand kept on sipping the chocolate milkshake in his hand, vibing with the music as well.

the next song was a sentimental one which you assumed is a self-composed one, since you’ve never heard this song before. before you know it, the performance is over and the audience have started packing up their belongings to hang out somewhere else or go home.

“good job everyone, we did well,” yuta, who played the bass earlier, high-fived the rest of the band with a sly grin on his face. guanheng chugged the mineral water down his throat before stashing his drumsticks into the bag while sicheng was lost in his thoughts. he doesn’t know why but you stood out from the crowd, only able to see you just now. he wouldn’t say it’s a crush, not knowing anything about you but it definitely made him feel something. a trigger in his heart, not knowing where it leads to. but what he does know is that you caught his attention.

“and you know what he said? i’ll come back crawling to him just like his other exes. what the heck is even that?” you took out the binders from your locker while listening to ningning rant about her love life. since you haven’t had any relationships before, you’re not really a professional in this aspect of life so you just kept your mouth shut to avoid giving useless advice.

“that sounds so rude, he’s such a jerk,” you commented, taking the first bite of your sandwich afterwards. the tea-spilling session eventually came to an end when she reached her class first and you kept walking to mrs. walker’s, english being your first period. nothing exciting really happened in that class except someone got their phone confiscated for texting in class - just the usual things. classes later, it’s finally recess when you met up with ningning and yangyang in the cafeteria.

“first of all, cut him off. block him. everywhere,” yangyang emphasized the last word, knowing how much of an idiot the guy can be. you just scrolled through your socials, double tapping on certain posts that caught your eye. owning a cat looks fun, you made a mental note to bring the idea to your parents later. the bell rang which signals that classes are starting back soon and the same cycle of events continues before it’s time to go home.

you observed yangyang’s sharp moves, following to the beat of the song echoing in the dance room. it’s currently half past seven and he’s still here, beads of sweat running through his hair. and why would he stay in school so late, you may ask? obviously, he’s here for a reason and it being an upcoming dance tournament is the most accurate one. while you’re here, sitting on the floor, back against the mirror and legs straightened out with your phone in your hand. it amazes you how the goofy boy transforms 360°, being all serious when he’s in his element.

“let’s go home, i’m tired already,” he panted out breathlessly, using a cloth nearby to wipe his sweaty forehead. you wait for him by the glass door as he packs up his things when the lights in the music studio also switched off. you wondered it must be the band guys so you paid no attention whatsoever. of course, your predictions were right when you saw two lads stepping out.

since yangyang is taking too much time tidying up the dance studio and the music studio seems unoccupied, you decided to check it out for a bit. it’s been a long time since you last entered the room, always accompanying your sister for her extra practice when you were younger. not much has changed, except some additions of instruments can be seen. not seeing anything in the dark condition as the room is only illuminated by the faint lights from the hallway, you pushed the switches down only to be met by a gasp.

“what are you doing here?” the tall boy approached you, a stern look visible on his fine features. your eyes scrambled around the room in an attempt to find any logical excuses for your ‘break-in’ but to no avail. your tongue was dry, not a sound escaping your throat when you heard yangyang’s voice, signalling your cue to exit the room and escape from the tension building between you and the boy. he just shook his head, the black hair bouncing left to right as he finally caught on.

it’s you, you’re the girl from the crowd. and your name is y/n.

the walk home was filled with one-sided conversations where yangyang kept on babbling about how he should improve the choreography he created earlier while you only added small comments. your mind is filled with embarrassment, too much that you feel slightly mad at yourself. why didn’t you say anything earlier? now, you look like a complete idiot with communication issues in front of that boy.

“yeah, and remember that pasta? we should definitely try it again, it’s like, so good,” yangyang said, earning a nod from you when you saw the boy from last night’s music studio tragedy approaching your table. you tried to look away but it was too late.

“dude, just wanna let you know that mr. park is seeing us after school,” your grip on your fork loosens up when you realized he wasn’t talking to you. maybe he forgot about the incident? you really hope so.

“yeah, totally. thanks sicheng,” yangyang playfully winked at the latter, earning a disgusted look from him who started walking away. he glanced back at you with a smug smile on his plump lips, making you freeze up again.

he didn’t.

“are you okay, y/n? feeling sick?” ningning furrowed her eyebrows upon seeing your sudden change of demeanor. you shrugged her off and continued to consume the macaroni placed on the tray in front of you, mentally cursing at yourself for the poor life choice you’d made. well, at least you know that his name is sicheng, right?

oh boy, you’re in for a long ride.

you can’t wait to go home and snuggle under the covers, today has been a long and tiring one for you. you had three pop quizzes as if all the three teachers intended so, your class had to run multiple laps during p.e. and so on. you’re already planning your routine in your head, trudging your way to the lockers when you saw him leaning against yours, scrolling down his phone.

“crap,” you muttered under your breath.

there it is, the smirk on his face returns when he spots your figure approaching. oh, how you wish you could wipe it off his face. he moved a couple steps backwards to give you some space to arrange your things before locking it, turning your head towards him.

“i’m sorry, why are you here again? and if it’s because of last night, then i’m sorry if it bothered you or anything,” you huffed out.

“what? i didn’t really care, it’s not like you were stealing anything, right?” he squinted his eyes, eyeing you up and down suspiciously, laughing shortly after seeing you get riled up.

“damn, you really need to learn how to take a joke. y/n, right? i’m sicheng, nice to meet you.”

“why exactly are we having this meet-and-greet or whatever this introduction is?” you crossed your arms, waiting for his response. but he didn’t, immediately turning on his heels and making his way towards the stairs, probably going to the studio.

“jerk,” you cursed under your breath, walking out the school building.

“what? you got accepted? seriously?” ningning’s voice echoed against the cafeteria walls, earning surprised and annoyed glances from other students who were either satisfying their grumbling stomach or simply having conversations. yangyang softly nudged her elbows using his, asking her to lower her voice down before telling you to go on. you were quite surprised as well, the acceptance email was not what you expected to receive. when you filled in the application form, it was just a mere shoot-your-shot agenda to see if you’d make the cut. although this is just a camp, you’re still unsure of what lies ahead.

“yeah, it starts next week. but i’m so nervous though,” you sipped the iced coffee in your hands. you’ve only watched videos of people producing their own music from scratch which you start to take an interest in. however, you’ve never done it hands-on before, only having basic music theory knowledge thanks to the piano lessons your parents signed you up for when you were young.

“you’ll do awesome, i promise,” yangyang gave you a reassuring smile, making you release some tension from the overthinking you’ve had since you received the email last night.

“thanks yang.”

now, here you are on the first day of attending the internship camp. you stood in front of the tall mirror hanging on the wall, straightening your cardigan and applying some makeup onto your face as touch-ups. it’s currently 7:40 in the morning, the earliest time you’ve ever woken up on a saturday. your siblings are still swallowed in their states of sleep. you double-checked the contents in your tote bag, making sure that no important things are left behind. you totally don’t intend on leaving a bad first impression on your first day.

after bidding a swift goodbye to your parents who just woke up, you drove your mother’s old honda to the completely new destination - mbyte studios. the tall building with light grey and blue painted walls definitely made it stand out, a futuristic look catching the eyes of the passersby. taking a deep breath, you entered the main lobby before being escorted to a room on the second floor. you assume it’s a waiting room for all participants of the camp, scanning that majority of the occupiers might be college students. you thanked god that the camp takes place on weekends so your high school senior life won’t be interrupted that much.

DAY 1

your eyes widened when you spot sicheng with the same white and blue tag you’re wearing, seated on the sofa. what the hell is he doing here? you avoided acknowledging his presence, trying to make yourself as unnoticed as possible heading over to occupy the seat farthest from his. after quite some time staring at the paintings hanging on the wall, a middle-aged lady with a petite figure entered the room, making you sit up straight.

“welcome to mbyte studios! i’m the assistant director, mrs. hwang. first and foremost, congratulations on being accepted. it’ a pleasure to witness the start of your musical journey embarking here. i believe that we should know each other first?” she gestured for any volunteers. sicheng stood up from his seat, charisma evident in his stance which left quite an impression on the others. the strong confidence in the way he speaks made the woman smile amusingly.

some names later, it was your turn to introduce yourself. the moment you stood up, he immediately recognized you and you were sure you caught him making some faces. the ice-breaking session went well thankfully, mrs. hwang elaborating on the social rules and the itinerary throughout the whole six days. one that caught your attention was assisting the producers on making a track from scratch, just like you had dreamed of.

when it was finally time for lunch break, you shot up from your seat to get away from sicheng as fast as possible but to your dismay, he beat you to it, jogging up towards your standing position.

“i didn’t know you were into music, what’s the sudden occasion?”

“it’s none of your business actually,” you sneered back, obviously not favouring his attention.

“woah, relax. you’ve got quite a temper, don’t you? by the way, we’re having lunch together,” he placed his phone onto a nearby table, pulling a chair for you.

“just eat on your own, i don’t have the appetite,” you flash a sarcastic grin before disappearing into the women’s restroom. he just laughed bitterly at your response before walking towards the food counter, joining his newly made friend, jaehyun. being the same age, they’re easy to click.

DAY 2

“today, we’ll be focusing on the recording process. you’ll be assigned into groups that will have a tour of the whole department. our staff will facilitate each group,” the manager said loud and clear. you remembered his name was johnny. the tattoo on his shoulder really stands out, considering the fact that he’s always wearing a sleeveless shirt.

but what are the odds when your groupmate is none other than the guy himself, sicheng. it’s like the universe truly resented you for having to be associated with him at any event. your group was escorted to the farthest recording studio on the floor. to say that this was a great experience is truly an understatement, making you observe the gears used in astonishment. you hate to admit it but sicheng has a handful of knowledge on this particular topic, always correctly answering the questions directed by the staff. maybe it wasn’t quite surprising upon knowing that his career choice is a singer, not that you care anyways.

again, nothing out of the ordinary happened today, except that you and sicheng had lunch on the same table. of course, it’s not that you accepted his offer but he welcomed himself to the spot. being the quickly favoured participant among the rest, obviously they welcomed him with open hands. he placed himself among the two guys sitting at the right corner, eyeing you whose eyes are still not leaving the article you were skimming through. with the last spoon of food shoved into your mouth, you quietly excused yourself from the group. sicheng just watched your movements in subtle signs of annoyance.

with the final task of doing microphone check-ups, day two of the camp ended with a breeze. you can’t wait to go home, get into a warm bath and spend the night watching netflix. it was a tiring one indeed but you’re not one to complain. pushing the car keys into the ignition slot, the sound of the engine starting is still nowhere to be heard even after a couple of retries. you rested your forehead onto the steering wheel, cursing silently in your head, having to get a taxi and call your mother about this incident. you’re sure to be receiving a handful from her, not to mention her soft but stingful remarks.

“hey, are you okay?” a deep voice interrupts your stressful state of mind. looking up, it’s sicheng with a concerned look on display. you hesitantly shared your problem, making him press his lips together probably thinking of a solution.

“you know, i don’t really know how to fix your broken engine or whatever but i know someone who can. let me just ring him for a sec. and you’re coming home with me.”

and that’s how you ended up in the front passenger seat, sicheng steering with one hand and the other rested on the windowsill. the faint music from the radio can be heard, probably a song by jon vinyl. you’d steal quick glances to see his other hand dancing in the air, enjoying the rhythm of the song playing. besides that, it was silent as both of you are preoccupied with your own things - sicheng on the road while you on your phone. he tried to make small talk but you would say it’s unrequited, only replying with short sentences. after a good ten minutes drive, the sight of your brown painted gate becomes a sign for him to stop the moving car.

“your car is safe with my friend so you shouldn’t worry about it or anything. also, what’s your number? it’ll be easier for, you know the car business of course,” he reached over to unbuckle your seatbelt, handing over his phone to you after. the close proximity made your breath hitch, the dewy scent of his perfume diffusing into your nose. not too strong, he has a good taste.

“thanks and um, i’ll buy you a drink later. just for today.”

“are you asking me on a date?” there it is, the significant tug on the side of his lips making its presence once again.

“stop being so narcissistic and move along please,” you rolled your eyes before giving him a small wave, stepping into your property. sicheng stared at the numerals on his phone screen, a small, proud grin etched on before driving off the lane.

“how was the camp? met any cute boys?” the first thing you hear in the hue of the blue monday morning is ningning’s chirpy voice. sometimes you wonder how she gets all boosted up at this hour of the day. yangyang is the polar opposite, his appearance as if he just got out of bed, the hood of his denim jacket resting on top of his auburn hair.

“it was good and no, no cute boys. but sicheng was there,” you replied nonchalantly, a mischievous grin crept onto her lips. you can almost predict the words that are going to spill out of her mouth.

“what’s up with her?” yangyang yawned, his eyes lazily gaze at you. you just lifted your shoulders, having no idea whatsoever. a ping sound was heard from your phone, notifying that a new message is received.

unknown: hey sicheng here

unknown: ur car may be ready tmr. want me to drive u there?

listening to your heart, you were about to type ‘no’ but remembering the fact that your parents will be busy the whole day tomorrow and yangyang is coming home late once again, you have no choice but to accept the lad’s help.

now you’re back in his vehicle, the same spot as before. you’ve only noticed now that a musical note charm is hung on the rearview mirror, a semiquaver to be exact. you’d say that it looks authentic, gold specks shining when sun rays hit the surface. observing the interior of his car, there are quite a number of small decorations.

“can we get coffee first? my treat for the car and the ride,” you suggested, looking at him whose eyes are focused onto the road. the traffic is quite pleasing today, nobody honking mindlessly at the other drivers and flipping each other off with the famous middle finger gesture. his side profile does look charming, some type of earrings dangling from his ears. if you’re going to be honest, his appearance does seem to be your type. you’re not one to say about his persona though, always managing to bother you at any time of the day.

“sure, wanna go to the new cafe? i heard it’s good,”. you just nodded while he skillfully steered the steering wheel, moving the car to the new destination. you turned your eyes to look outside from the car window, seeing the one hundred and one manners of the citizens. a mother struggling to take her child who’s having a tantrum out of the toy shop, a young couple having their romantic meal in the french cafe. the motion of the car stopping awakened you who was being distracted by your clouded mind.

from the moment you stepped into the place, the interior caught your attention. the light brown painted walls with black furniture complementing each other perfectly, making a retro-like appearance. the funky song playing faintly in the background surely is a mood-setter, just how you like it. even the barista serving you is being friendly, making a couple of small talk in the midst of operating the machines.

you would say that it was a pleasureful day for you. the exquisite taste of latte washing down your dry throat, getting your car back without too much babbling from your dear mother and the gap between you and sicheng closing in for a little.

the last sentence baffled you for a second.

DAY 3

sicheng’s eyes shot open from the short slumber he was trying to get - failing miserably even, upon spotting you enter through the door. he pulled the chair beside him in hopes for you to get his message and take the seat. a frown made its way onto his face when you just waved at him, making your way to another spot a few chairs to the front. he scoffed, head tilting slightly before approaching you instead. you shot him a puzzled look, roughly translating to ask him what he’s doing here.

“i just want to be close to you. now focus,” he redirected his eyes onto the muscular man who just entered the room. he’s a songwriter - the best one in this company to be exact. you were focused on each point he explained, making small notes on your laptop. it’s not always that you’ll get a chance to be guided by a four-time award winning songwriter, might as well gain some benefits from it.

“another tip i have is to use all types of chords. remember, do not stick to the same ones, you’ll lack creativity. for instance, use major, minor, dominant, diminished, and augmented. i promise you, more ideas will be flowing and better quality songs will be produced. you got me?” the questioned, earning buzzing sounds of positive responses from the hall.

DAY 4

another day of group work, you’re given the task to create a melody according to the themes given - for your group, it’s love. looking at sicheng, he’s already on his electric guitar, strumming mindlessly to find the perfect note to start on. the rest of you are now juicing out some thoughts on this particular sense of human nature.

“love gives us thrill, the feeling of excitement, the feeling when you’re uncertain about something but when you have that special someone with you, you’re sure to wing it all,” jaehyun suggests, earning nods of approval from the rest of your groupmates.

“you’re a pro at this, mr. romantic,” you teased him, earning a soft chuckle. a dimpled smile is etched onto his features, rosy cheeks and his eye smile making you fawn. prince-like visual and a sense of humour? a two in one package, totally.

“not really. i guess i’m a sucker for romance movies,” he rubbed the back of his neck. your small conversation came to a halt when you heard a crooked, loud sound coming from the rough strum on the guitar strings. you turned around to see sicheng gazing directly towards the both of you, a sharp one even. jaehyun just blinked his eyes before catching onto the situation unfolding in front of him while you’re still being completely oblivious. you tilted your head in confusion, unsure of what’s gotten into him.

it’s the day that yangyang has been looking forward to since the past few weeks, his dance tournament. you’re seated with ningning on the bleachers, music from the loudspeakers echoing through the walls. with the cheers of the bewatchers whenever someone captivated them with a trick or dance move, usually the risky ones, it truly is a loud atmosphere.

“now, welcoming contestant number 43 to take the stage,” the host announced, you and ningning clapped with all your might, shouting words of encouragement as well. yangyang took a deep breath before lifting his right hand up, cueing for the music to start playing. just then, there’s the sound of someone plopping down on the hard surface next to you - sicheng. he’s looking casual today, a light yellow hoodie replacing his usual dark clothings.

“what are you doing here?” you shout whispered while ningning raised her eyebrows at you.

“didn’t yangyang tell you? i’m here to watch him dance,” he countered your question before darting his eyes back to the boy who’s busy popping on the dance floor, tinashe’s song playing in the background. he ended his routine with a moonwalk, making his way to the end of the stage. you’re confident that he’s going to win the competition, looking at how precise and clean his moves were. all the late night practices he had eventually paid off when he’s announced as the second placer. nonetheless, he’s still proud of himself, not to mention you and ningning who have been with him throughout his whole journey.

“you did well,” sicheng welcomed him with a fist bump which he reciprocated back. you didn’t know that they were this good of friends.

“i’m starving,” he rubbed his hand onto his stomach, making you remember that your stomach has been rumbling since you only ate a cereal bar that morning. you were about to catch up to yangyang and ningning who were walking fast ahead when you felt a tug on your shirt, looking down to see sicheng crouching down to tie your loose shoelaces.

“you might fall,” he placed his hands into the pockets of his hoodies, waiting for you to come along.

“um, thanks,” you muttered out before catching the glances given by your friends, later teasing you about the scene.

roars of students can be heard coherently, filling the basketball court. the basketball captain, a tall one with black charcoal hair is shooting a three-pointer. the players are then called over to their respective sides for whatever strategy their coaches will be implementing in the third-quarter. the home team is currently leading by five points, knowing that the players wearing the significant red and black jersey have been training their asses off for a while now.

but why exactly did you come to the game tonight? besides from the main event happening in the moment, the other reason is now standing in his position, strumming his electric guitar producing a funky sound that vibrates through the walls - a cue for the start of another buzzing stage. sicheng has been bugging you about watching him perform tonight and after quite some time evaluating, why not? when he finally caught you among the crowd, he flashed you a flirtatious wink. right before the band bowed as gratitude to the audience, he gave you a gesture to wait for him at the back of the gym.

“you came! but seriously, thank you,” he rested the sparkly white guitar against the wall, enveloping you into a hug. this is new, you tried to hide the flustered state of yours as you reciprocated his movement. from the corner of your eyes, you can see a black-haired guy approaching the two of you, followed by one with long, white hair and a bandana nicely keeping the fluffy strands in tact.

“ooh, who’s this?” the first one wiggled his eyebrows, later introducing himself as guanheng, the latter named yuta. to your surprise, the bond between you and them are quick to form with guanheng piloting the conversation. not to mention his subtle jokes making you giggle at times.

“well y/n, your little boyfriend here is getting jealous so we’ll excuse ourselves for now. see you whenever,” guanheng banging his drumsticks into the air while yuta gave you a quick wave before disappearing into the store room of the gymnasium. the nickname they gave sicheng surely made you a bit shy.

boyfriend?

DAY 5

you’re seated in front of the computer screen, your chin resting on the palm of your hands and the tabs of different colours left untouched. you redirected your gaze onto the projector screen, the words ‘arrange, mix, edit and master like a pro’ on it. a long sigh leaving your lips, you try to remember what the producer said earlier.

don’t make the song sound too repetitive

a good buildup promises a good melody

you can have a certain instrument playing only on one part for cinematic impact

DAY 6

“i’m hyo and you’re,” she moved the wheels of her chair to the back a bit to take another look at the clipboard resting on the desk, “sicheng, y/n and jaehyun, right?” the three of you nodded in harmony, anticipating for the next order that will be given.

“okay cool, we’ll be brainstorming first,” and she proceeded to explain what the requirements for this project are. you mouthed out the important points she gave, soft rock, heartbreak and drums. you’re on a roll today, contributing your countless ideas during the first few minutes of the discussion. sicheng just looked at you discussing with hyo, your lips pursed slightly. his gaze seems full of adoration, even jaehyun said so.

“any objections?” hyo looked over to the rest.

“i think she made some great ones. i’m sure this project will come out fresh,” jaehyun voiced out his opinions, sicheng nodding after. he went straight to handling the instruments , you and jaehyun collaborating for the mixing process. hyo eventually chimed in on some times, giving small advice whenever you seem stuck in the brain. with the hours ticking by, you’re feeling more satisfied than ever with your earphones in, listening to the final product created.

all of the participants are then assembled in the hall again, waiting for a final speech by the director which formalizes the end of the camp. sure, you’ve earned worthy knowledge throughout the six days. but if you’re being brutally true to the sound of your heart, it would be how you came to learn sicheng’s true antics. he might be the cocky guy who thinks they have the power to do anything but in truth, he’s just some guy with an honest heart, honest intentions to know you better.

summer break, your most anticipated event for the past few weeks. the moment the last bell rang, that scene in high school musical 2 kept replaying in the back of your head, the students doing a parade in front of the lockers picturing how your little heart is doing backflips in your chest right now. all the beach trips ningning planned is making you feel dizzy. you turned around to a voice calling out your name from the end of the hallway, your eyes catching the sight of sicheng jogging towards your spot. he stopped in front of you, hands on his knees catching his breath.

“are you free tomorrow night? there’s a party at guanheng’s and you know, it would be really cool if you join,” his fingers tracing onto each other, waiting patiently for your response.

you didn’t even have the time to process his invitation when ningning crashed her body against yours, yangyang following suit.

“a party? y/n would totally love to come, right?” ningning nudged your arms softly while yangyang tried to stifle a giggle. you were about to mouth out a ‘what?’ before sicheng cut you off.

“cool, you guys should come too. tomorrow at 10,” he and yangyang exchanged finger guns gestures before leaving the three of you. you just stood there in disbelief, eyeing them up and down before ningning dragged you to the parking lot. a stringful of grumbles escaped your lips, making the guy laugh obnoxiously.

“i can’t believe you guys did that,” you extended the seat belt, buckling it to the slot beside you.

“please. but you do want it, right?” you can’t deny, what she said was true. plus, you should have some fun and distress before having to go back to the usual dull routine of yours.

“how do i look?” you turn around, revealing the baby pink crop top and flare pants on your legs. it’s not your best outfit but giving the cliche excuse - you have nothing to wear, the two articles totally complements each other

“you look hot, that’s all i gotta say. right, yang?” ningning lifted her head from the headboard, glancing over at yangyang who’s going over his messages.

“yeah totally,” he lifted his hands, giving you a thumbs up. you threw a jacket onto your shoulders and grabbed the black purse on your dresser, glancing at the wall mirror one last time.

from the moment you stepped into the venue - guanheng’s place, smells of alcohol lingered around your nose, a group of people cheering ever so loudly over a game of beer pong, some already passed out on the couch. not to mention a brownish stain on the carpet - probably from someone throwing up. the mess would take a whole day to get rid off, you note to yourself. your friends are no longer to be found, both of them getting affiliated with god knows what. your eyes scanned the living room for sicheng but his presence is still nowhere to be found.

you decided to step towards the kitchen bar, pouring a drink for yourself. the mixed sweet and sour taste of it remained on your tongue for a couple of seconds. looking over at the snacks served, you grabbed a strawberry flavoured lollipop from the clear bowl. the crowd is cheering loudly for some type of incident happening at the back of the room, the music has been turned up to be a little louder than the volume before and you’re suddenly getting a little bit overwhelmed. you grabbed your purse and stepped out, inhaling some fresh air and looking up to the starry night sky.

“y/n? where have you been?” sicheng approached you from behind, making you a bit startled.

“sorry, hanging out outside can calm me. where did you go?” you popped the lollipop into your mouth.

“some jerk decided to throw up in front of me,” you pinched your nose with a disgusted expression, making him roll his eyes.

“do you want me to accompany you out here?” he offered. you just nod your head, placing yourself on the patio with him following suit. the sweetening flavour empowering your senses. it’s definitely much more calm out here, allowing you to clear up your mind. it’s not that you hate the atmosphere in the house right now, you’re just not in the mood.

“you know, you look pretty,” you turned around to meet his face. his brown eyes brimming with unconfessed love.

“shut up, stop with the jokes,” you lightly land a smack on his arms.

“what if i say i’m not joking?” he looked straight into your eyes, trying to find any emotion inside you. the sudden seriousness is making you feel much more awkward so you forced out a laugh, turning your attention right back upwards. the stars are shining brightly tonight, you can almost spot a constellation.

“i know what you’re doing, dong sicheng. just stop it already, it’s not working on me.” denial, that’s what you’re experiencing in the hot minute.

a gentle tug can be felt on your wrist, his eyes still not leaving yours.

“didn’t anyone tell you before? you’re really pretty. like, i can’t even describe it to you. you’re just,” he leaned over to caress your cheeks, “pretty,”.

what jaehyun said on the other day is true, after all.

love gives us thrill, the feeling of excitement, the feeling when you’re uncertain about something but when you have that special someone with you, you’re sure to wing it all.

your heart is beating so fast, it could fall out of your chest at any moment now. even the faint music blasting through the speakers inside the house can’t flush down the sound of your heartbeat. you’re not used to this, the sudden need of the significant skin to skin contact that symbolizes love between two individuals.

“can i?” his face in a very near proximity from yours, whispering into your right ear with his honey-like voice. you pulled the candy away from your mouth and nod, giving him the approval he needed before he dived in. heat rose from your stomach to your chest. you could only focus on how soft his crimson lips felt on yours, invading your privacy by all senses. you felt the kiss expand beyond your bodies, whirling you round, swirling you into the stars. he pulled away with a soft smile, you thought you could melt right then and there.

“wow,” that was the only word escaping your throat. your jumping heart still hasn’t settled down yet, your very first kiss still feeling surreal. you could see that sicheng is very much mirroring your emotions, his slender fingers grazing over his lips - the one that has come in contact with yours.

“the strawberry lollipop is sweet,” he commented, making the both of you laugh.

a ping from your phone awakened you from the gushy eye contact with him, unlocking it only to find yangyang’s text message. the second part of it made you fluster.

yang: yo r u coming in or what? and congrats for the kiss, we thought we’d have to wait longer for this

206 notes · View notes

ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole · 3 years

Text

Stories of Paris

Part 4

Part One Part Three AO3

Masterlist

................................................................

Damian was unhappy with the fact that with ‘strangers’ in *his* house their nightly activities would have to carefully navigated. His father nor Pennyworth had not explicitly said anything about it, but he assumed it was because they all knew what was expected. So, being told to line up in the entrance hall by his father went down like a lead balloon.

His pout turned in widening eyes of shock as he witnessed the tall wiry young woman (and a large man he supposed) exiting the car. SHE was his father’s babysitter. This was who oversaw the European branch of W.E. The person who owned the largest portion of shares of W.E (after the Wayne family that is). He was doomed. Damain watched as his father soften as he saw the woman.

“Mari! You never seem to age!” he exclaimed as she gracefully walked up to him and into his embrace.

“Mon cherie! It’s miraculous isn’t it,” she drew back slightly to look over his shoulder, “I see you have taken found family comment to the extreme, but I suppose you were never one to do things in half measures. It’s good to be back here after so long”

Looking at her like he was a child with pleading eyes, “You are staying here, right?”

With a gentle smile with a smirking edge, “Yes. If I tried to leave for a hotel, I’ll end up having the shadows watching me all night. Plus, this place always did feel like my home away from home.”

Damian glancing at his supposed siblings to see that they were also in shock. Probably not for the same reason. Panicking with it all, as he saw his father turn to introduce them to the woman, Damian drew his katana and aimed it at her.

“YOU were fathers' babysitter!!! But... what... you’re younger than him!!!! .... You’re the Grand Lady Guardian... I *refuse* to return.”

Damian vaguely recognised his name being shouted at him, but all his attention was on the Grand Lady Guardian of the Miraculous who stood, rolling her eyes, before him. He could feel her power radiating off, surrounding them all.

“Petit Tresor. I’m not taking you back there. Did you not learn anything from my teachings? Did you not learn to read between the lines? About looking deeper than the surface. You are with *your* found family. THEY are what is important. Bruce may have picked up a lot of my unhealthy habits about vigilantism, but he made a point of understand a good support network and the importance of chosen family. Despite how he enacts the teachings.”

The Monkey with her came to her shoulder and raised his eyebrow at Damian. He finally understood why he was always her bodyguard now rather than the Cat, being that he was her husband.

“You can stand down Petit Tresor. League and Court business will *not* be found here. The League know what will happen if they cross the Court, and I made it very clear after our last encounter when they tried to manipulate us to their advantage.”

Damian assessed the woman before him as he withdrew his katana from her and starting to become aware of the others around him again.

“Why has he got a chaos shard within him Bruce?” The monkey growled looking at him with a dangerous glint in his eye.

Everyone in the entrance hall was frozen in shock and panic. What was meant to be a happy reunion had been derailed but now, suddenly, somehow gained an even sharper edge. Marinette and her husband were aware of their nightly capers, and they also knew of the League, they were involved in something similar and aware of chaos shards.

Damian watched as his father gulped as he looked at the Monkey and the Guardian. It wasn’t often his father showed fear, but it was clear on his face as she arched her eyebrow at him. His siblings all looked on in surprise and uncertain of what to expect. Only Pennyworth and Todd seemed to be handling the situation with any sense of calmness. Surprising for Todd...

“Mari... his mother... the league...”

At the mention of the league the Guardians eye twitch so subtly you’d hardly notice it if not trained and with a minute flicker of her hand, the Monkey flipped his phone out and was walking out back outside to call someone... Damian straining his ears heard Peg and plan 42c being mentioned by the Monkey to whoever he had called.

“They were warned. Tsk, Assassin’s bullheadedness. Kim will sort this out for me for the present moment and we will discuss healing at a later point. Anyway, mon cherie, you were about to introduce me to your children. Petit Tresor I know, and I believe that that is Jason, mon rêveur, in the background though he has grown so much since our last meeting. So, I could guess everyone else, but why don’t you continue?”

The Guardian stated as if the topic of what just happened was over, much to Damian’s surprise. He sheafed his katana but still was wary of the woman and slightly in awe. He had a feeling that the chaos and downfall of his grandfather may have due to her in some way. Slight fear and dread for his mother was building as well. He finally starting to understand the reason for her over protectiveness when she taught him in the league now.

“Right. Mari, this is Dick, Jason who you already met in person? Cass and alongside her Duke, Tim who you meet briefly in the W.E. meeting the other month, Steph who has wormed her way into the family and Damian you who’ve also already met?”

With a polite cough drawing attention to himself, Alfred spoke. “Perhaps, instead of having a mother’s meeting in the entrance hall, we retreat to the drawing room where we can have some refreshments. I am sure that Ms Marinette and Master Kim are exhausted from their travels. It is most unbecoming to stand around loitering, wouldn’t you agree Master Bruce?”

Bruce muttered something as his ears started to tinge red, Marinette turned to Alfred and smiled as she drew him into a hug while Bruce collected himself.

“Yes, right, that sounds like a fantastic idea Alfred. Mari, shall we?”

Bruce offered her an arm which she elegantly took as the took off in the direction of the drawing room delving into conversation with Bruce leaving behind a shocked collection on children in the hall. Alfred slipped off to prepare the refreshments.

Damian cringed as Dick exclaimed, “YOU GUYS KNOW HER?!?!?!!” which echoed around the manor as he finally processed what had just happened.

______________________________________________

Alfred smiled as the atmosphere within the Manor shifted over the last few weeks. It now had a different air about it. Master Bruce became less sullen and slightly less repressed under Marinette’s watch and the Manor started to feel lighter again.

Alfred had found great amusement when he stumbled in on Master Kim lecturing Master Bruce on being dense especially the “I know I’m dense but kwami Bruce! You’re worse than me realising all the competitions I got Mare rigged into was because I wanted to impress her! Let’s start at the beginning, ok?!”.

He hoped that Master Kim might be able to knock a bit of sense into his wayward charge. He knew Ms Marinette, though full of good intentions wouldn’t be able to with Master Bruce’s strange ability to pick up on the wrong message being given.

The highlight of the week was when he entered the family living room to find all his grandchildren looking pale as Master Bruce acted semi child-like in front of Ms Marinette. It was a delight to see Bruce act like the child that he knew he was reawakened again. Even if it terrified the grandchildren.

The whole family discovered that Bruce had been very selective of the stories and information that he had told them about Marinette. She had taken great delight telling them all about what teenage Bruce really was like.

About the time Bruce had a fan induced panic attack on meeting the Jagged Stone. Alfred was slightly aware of something happened but not the details.

About the time Bruce decided to practice parkour in the Manor gardens and ended up stuck halfway up the side of the Manor unable to climb up further or climb down. Alfed was positive he was unaware that Marinette joined him and had to coach Bruce down.

About the series of times that Bruce attempted to prove to Alfred that he had ‘outgrown the kitchen ban’ and had ‘observed Mari’s baking skills sufficiently’ to be able to try again for only the attempts to go south fast. Alfred grimaced at the memories that that bought up. He was glad that he’d got a good working deal with local kitchen fitters and suppliers given the number of fires.

It became a daily breakfast occurrence that Bruce mortified Marinette in his outfit for the day. The breakfast entertainment became watching Marinette tear into his fashion choice of the day, drag up some past clothing or costume disaster. She ended up moaning that he had learnt nothing from her rantings about clothes over the years and stare forlornly into her coffee cup. It was providing the bat boys a wealth of black mail material that Alfred had to on numerous occasions reel Marinette from her tangents.

The only time he let her completely go to town with was letting her regale to everyone about Bruce’s dramatic and insistent argument on fighting crime in Lyca, wearing pants on top of tights and with a cape, that he really insisted that he didn’t need to use Kevlar (that decision didn’t last beyond a few training sessions and one patrol night). Alfred was pleased with her ability to rein that disaster in quickly.

It was in the comfort of the kitchen away from the antics that happened Alfred mused and reflected on his notional niece's visit. Alfred wished he had thought to bring Marinette over sooner as he witnessed that fraught relationships between the Waynes soften. Issues didn’t disappear but Marinettes presence, and ability due to dealing with Akuma, helped mitigate situations which typically would have blown up. Kim always by her side would help soothe, distract, or explain to the puzzled Bruce the techniques Marinette was using to stop the escalation.

She’d slowly began charming and connecting with his grandchildren. Be it by giving Tim pointers on how to manage W.E board members effectively and playing video games. It was eerily like how she warmed Bruce up to her.

By Sitting quietly reading with Jason or playing chess and talking in metaphors about life, death and balance. Slowly having ‘healing sessions to calm the pit madness’ with meditation and grounding sessions.

With Damian she seemed to remind him of alternate grounding techniques which she’d shown him in the league. They seemed to spend time talking in hushed whispers about other stuff that Alfred wasn’t currently privy too.

Duke was with poetry and music. Cass with dance and gymnastics, silent subtle conversations occurred but seeing Cass smile and edge towards being more tactile made Alfred glow with warmth inside. Steph and Marinette commanded the kitchen numerous times baking pastries, waffles and other treats.

Dick took the longest to warm up to the woman, having heard and known about her for over a deacade but never met it was understandable. Alfred wpould never knew what Marinette had done but one day the hostility and coldness disappeared. A joy, childlike smile appeared on Dicks face every time she was in the room, and he’d follow her round like a loat puppy. Watching and mimicking her techniques to calm his brothers down.

How his grandchildren acted with Marinette in the activities brought echoes of memories of her with Bruce to the forefront of Alfred’s mind.

Sighing, in the short time the Manor felt warm and like a family, a home should feel like. Much like before his friends’ death. Schooling his emotions, Alfred set about to serve the family and Parisians last dinner together.

______________________________________________

Bruce tried not to sulk. Tried not to revert to the mind set of when Marinette originally disappeared physically from his life. Especially in front of his children but it was hard. She somehow always managed to take the overwhelming pressure away from him, like he could breathe and be.

Alfred was his father, in all the ways that counted, but the burden of death and saving the world was something Marinette understood at a deeper more personal level. Having her here made it feel safe to feel, that he would always be caught. That she would save him from the consuming darkness. She was the light in the world shining out in the Gotham gloom.

As expected, his children adored her in their unique ways. Following her around like little ducks scrabbling for crumbs of knowledge and titbits of information. Bruce lips twitched as he witnessed them behaving much like he used to. Taking the gems’ she passed on to them and ferreting them away much like he did.

“Master Bruce, I expect better behaviour this leaving gathering than our previous party, please.”

With Alfred’s comments Bruce gave into the feeling of pouting. Why deny how he felt toward the situation where he wasn’t in control. He pointedly ignored the stares that his children were giving him. Again.

“Mon tresor! It’s not like you aren’t going to see or speak to me again. We speak regularly as it is. It’s not the same as it was last time. You know this.”

“But Mari, it's nice having you here. This is your home.”

“Is he always like this Mare, Cupcake? How is it that all the kid’s you’ve looked after end up demanding you live with them?”

Bruce choked at Kim’s statement and the Wayne clan burst into laughter. Alfred let a small smirk grace his face.

“Oui, Mon Amour, He wasn’t happy last time I left at all. Be grateful I learnt to resist kitten eyes or we’d never have reconnected. Manon doesn’t count. She’s practically family as well with how close Maman and Nadja are.”

“What about Elle, Etta and Chris? What about Ivan’s and Mylene’s sproglian? Fang? Jagged’s second round of terrors? Luka and Jules too really.”

“Hush, Mon Amour, circumstantial evidence.”

Bruce observed Kim stare at his wife in disbelief before waving his hand around the room.

“What about these then. Don’t give me that look Cupcake. I’m gonna end up needing to fight the whole batclan at this rate to get you on a plane with me! Maybe I should give Peg’s the heads up that I’ll need his help.”

“I can assure you Master Kim that you *both* are free to leave. The young master's understand that they cannot kidnap you. It would not be becoming of them OR look good for the company for the family to kidnap its own workers.”

Bruce and his family guiltily ducked their heads at Alfred’s comments. When Alfred turned away to start talking to Kim, Tim leant in close to Bruce to whisper to him.

“Do you think we have the power to move her to being director of North America rather than Europe? Mari would be closer then? Plus, the guy in charge isn’t all he’s cracked up to be so the board would likely approve it.”

Bruce stared at his son at the ingenious and simple solution and smiled, before ducking his head when Alfred pointedly looked his way.

“We’ll discuss that concept later.”

Bruce gave Tim a subtle nod as if he was approving the idea. Technically he was but Alfred didn’t need to know that. Nor did Kim really, as he would fight him if he found out and he’d rather not deal with an ex-olympian superhero, even when he pulled his punches they hurt far more than the average persons.

Bruce sat back into his seat and smiled as the conversation and chaos flowed around him. His whole family finally together and he cherished it. He knew it wasn’t going to last much longer with the impending flight looming but for now he had a potential and creative plan to work on. If he framed it right it could also become the prefect family bonding activity that both Marinette and Kim thought he needed to do more of outside of vigilantism. And if the end result was that she moved closer, well, that’s just an added bonus in his eyes.

With that in mind, Bruce joined in with the choas enjoying the moment with his complete family. Nothing could take this away from him.

Tag:

@neakco @corporeal-terrestrial @jayjayspixiepop @lady-bee-fechin @prettylittlebutterflie

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