#I stopped playing halfway through this. so it’ll be entirely new ground

[thecrimsondandelion]

Ugh, turnabout big top my beloathed

[withacapitalp]

How to Rehabilitate a Jock in Four Months Part 12

We're back babey :DDDD Happy to announce hiatus is over fellowsssss but also TW for this one Steve has a panic attack. Also thanks as always to @stevethehairington for betaing and supporting and generally just being the best friend a person can ask forrrrr also @thefreakandthehair for listening to me ramble about this endlessly. When I say I was working on this for two months, legitimately for the entire two months I was working on this

Part One Part Eleven Part Thirteen Link to Ao3

Step Twelve: Watch Him Stumble

In terms of gigs, this probably had to be one of the best sets Eddie had ever played. The energy was off the charts, the crowd was in it with them at every step, and best of all, Steve had been smiling the whole time. Even the power going out had a certain panache to it. Like a final zinger to finish off the wicked guitar solo in Breathless that made Eddie’s heart race every single time he played it. 

Was it ideal to have to sit in the dark and wait for the lights to come back on? Not by a long shot, but there was no denying that the ending of the song had been one hundred percent bonafide metal. 

All in all, Eddie wasn’t that pressed about having the electricity cut out. It wasn’t the first time the power had died during one of their shows, and it wouldn’t be the last. The Hideout was a total dive, basically a shack at the edge of the woods with an electrical system that was shoddy, at best. The band’s equipment had blown a fuse so many times that it was practically routine for the owner to have to go downstairs and reset the box halfway through their set. 

“What’s going on, Dan?” Eddie asked as he saw the bartender’s flashlight start to come up from the basement. He was eager to get going again, unwilling to lose the killer vibe coming from the crowd. 

He also wanted to be able to see what a certain ex-jock thought about the song he had just played. But that was neither here nor there.

“Shows over, boys!” Bar owner Dan shouted, listening to the moans and groans from the patrons before sighing and walking over to the low stage. “Flipped the breakers twice, but nothing. Must’ve been somethin’ else that blew the power. We’re done for the night.”

“Damn it,” Eddie swore, scuffing his sneaker on the ground and strumming a discordant little note on his guitar for emphasis.

Of course this happened on the one night he was actually trying to impress someone. Of course. 

“You can leave whatever you want to here for the night,” Dan offered, waving his flashlight around, “It’ll be hard enough to find your way out of this place without trying to lug around all this equipment too.” 

Eddie didn’t care about the equipment. He cared about the fact that Steve’s first time seeing him play had just been totally wrecked by a stupid power outage. 

“Thanks, Dan,” Jeff said for all of them as Eddie continued to scowl, trying to push down his disappointment before it could grow into something impossible to manage. 

The bartender nodded once, turning and walking towards some of the patrons to give them the news, leaving the band to their own devices. 

“This blows,” Eddie groaned as soon as they were alone, mood still incredibly sour. 

“You’re just mad you didn’t get to show off for Steeeeeve,” Frank teased as the others started to pack up in the dark. Even if they were leaving their stuff there, they still wanted to leave it in a somewhat organized fashion. 

“Stones and glass houses, Frankie,” Eddie said warningly, turning to where he knew Frank was around and glaring. He was not above calling out the other boy’s very obvious crush on Janet at this moment, nothing was off the books when he was this annoyed. “No, I’m mad our set got slashed in half cause of a dumb power outage.” 

“Mhm, sure,” Gareth said, drawing out the word in a way that grated on every single nerve Eddie had. 

“Guys?” Janet’s voice floated over, stopping Eddie before he said something he regretted. Janet slowly came into view as she walked over to the stage, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable. 

She was alone. 

Eddie’s anger vanished as a pit began to form in his stomach. 

“Where’s Rocky?” Frank asked, walking over to stand next to Eddie. 

“Where’s Steve?” Eddie emphasized before Janet could answer, looking around into the dark of the bar. It was hard to see anything but lumps bobbing and weaving about, but none of them seemed Steve-shaped. Still, there was no way Steve would just leave. 

Right?

“No clue,” Janet answered, rubbing her arm, “Steve was acting weird right before the power went out, and now we can’t find him. I sent Rocky to go look around.”

Weird? What did ‘weird’ mean? Weird was the kind of word that only made even more questions. Did Steve totally hate the music? Was he having a bad time? Had Eddie completely misinterpreted everything he had thought from before? 

But before Eddie could put any of these fears to words, Rocky’s silhouette came into view. 

“He’s not in the bathroom. I even peeked into the ladies just to be sure,” Rocky reported. Janet made a disgusted little sound, reaching over to smack the younger boy upside the head and give him a disappointed scowl. 

“Hey!” Rocky snapped, getting out of Janet’s line of fire, “Not cool. I’m just looking out for a fellow party member.”

“He’s not in our party,” Gareth muttered immediately, stepping around his drum kit to come stand with the rest of them. Eddie didn’t bother to fight with his best friend or even comment on his stupid little jab. He was too busy freaking the fuck out over the fact that the guy he definitely wasn’t crushing on had seemingly vanished into thin air. 

“What do you mean weird?” Eddie asked, hating the way his heart was starting to pound. 

“He was like really distracted? And looked kind of freaked out. Not just annoyed or uncomfortable, but scared,” Janet said, trailing off with a grimace on her face. She looked like she had more to say, but nothing else came, and an stilted silence fell over the group. 

Scared? Steve? The words just didn’t seem to fit together. Eddie couldn’t imagine Steve being afraid of anything. He went headfirst into everything, confident to the point of nearly cocky, so sure of himself Eddie was sometimes jealous. 

“Maybe he just didn’t like the music?” Gareth offered, but his tone was weak. “Used the power outage as a way to slip out?”

“No,” Janet said firmly, shaking her head. “He… Something wasn’t right, guys.” 

Something wasn’t right. 

Eddie knew this feeling. It was that heart stop stomach drop moment. The deer hearing the first snap of the twig under a hunter’s boot, a rabbit sensing that a snare was nearby. It was the same way he felt when he was walking around town and saw a car full of douchebags tailing him, or he went to the woods to make a deal only to find no one sitting at the picnic table. 

There was something dangerous happening, something that instinctually made Eddie want to run for the hills. 

Something scary. Something that was a threat. 

He needed to find Steve. Now. 

“Maybe he’s just outside having a smoke or somethin’,” Eddie said, trying and failing to sound casual. “Let’s go look.”

Eddie carefully placed his guitar in its case and hopped down, walking towards the direction of the front door and hoping the others were following. He would go on his own if he had to, but he really, really, didn’t want to. 

Luckily he heard the pattern of footsteps following his own, and Jeff bumped his shoulder against Eddie’s as they approached the exit. Eddie took a millisecond to be grateful for his loyal batshit insane buds, then he was back on task. 

“Steve?” Eddie called as he walked out the door, mentally sending a prayer to whoever might be listening that Steve would be standing right there, waiting for them to come join him. 

No such luck. There were a few drunks milling about, a couple making out against the side of the building, but no sign of Steve’s pretty boy hair or his soft sweet smile. Eddie’s heart began to race impossibly faster. 

“Steve! You out here?!” Eddie shouted, hating the panic that was starting to enter his tone. He turned his head in every direction, but he couldn’t see any sign of Steve. 

“He’s long gone, Eds, can we go back inside now? It’s fucking freezing out here,” Gareth asked, rubbing at his bare arms and shivering as the frigid winter wind raced past them. Eddie could barely feel his own body, but he ignored both the cold and Gareth’s words, walking towards his van. 

Steve was there. He had to be. He had to be, or else Eddie was going to lose his mind worrying over what was probably nothing, and he might say something incredibly stupid when they actually found Steve, and that would ruin everything they had worked so hard to build. 

Luckily for Eddie’s increasingly fragile mind and heart, he spotted a shape sitting near the van. Eddie practically melted in relief, jogging around to the other side of his van, needing to see Steve’s face. 

“Well if you wanted to dine and dash so bad, Harrington, you should have-” 

Eddie cut off the idiotic quip he had been in the middle of saying, struck silent by the state he found Steve in. All of the relief he had been starting to feel instantly vanished, replaced by a bone deep dread that overtook Eddie’s entire being. 

Steve was on the ground, his knees pulled close to his chest and his eyes staring firmly at the gravel. He was still as a statue, barely even blinking, and his breathing was shallow and uneven. Eddie could see him shaking from where he stood, trembling like a leaf in the wind as he continued to just stare at nothing. 

Something was wrong. 

“Steve?” Eddie said softly, reaching out slowly as he edged closer to the other boy trying to get his attention. “Sweetheart? What’s going o-“

Steve’s hand darted out the second Eddie’s got close enough to reach, fingers latching onto Eddie’s wrist in an iron tight grip that instantly sent a dull ache racing up his arm. The physical sensation was uncomfortable, painful, but it was the look on Steve’s face that hurt the most. 

Steve’s eyes were boring holes into Eddie’s face, staring him down with a flat blank glare that looked completely wrong on his features. It was almost like he was looking through Eddie, not really seeing him, just dealing with the threat that was coming towards his body. 

It shouldn’t hurt. After all, Eddie was used to people in this town seeing him as a scary person. He didn’t really bat an eye anymore when people switched to the other side of the street as he walked past, and he didn’t care that much about the way mothers would grab their children’s hands if he started to approach. 

But something about the way Steve’s protective instincts had deemed him a danger just cut right to Eddie’s core. 

“Steve it’s-it’s just me,” Eddie stuttered out, trying subtly to pull away from Steve’s death grip. 

The combination of his quiet voice and tugging must have tripped something in Steve’s mind, because a hint of recognition flew across Steve’s face, and he instantly dropped Eddie’s wrist, going back to curling both of his hands in his hair and pulling, shaking silently as he let his gaze fall back to the pavement. 

“Eddie, back up,” Jeff ordered the second he was free, stepping forward. 

“Jeff-“

“Eddie, he’s having a panic attack,” Jeff said firmly, interrupting his friend before he could start trying to argue. “Back. Up.” 

A panic attack? 

Eddie had seen Jeff in the throes of a panic attack before, and it was nothing like this. Usually Jeff would hyperventilate, gasp for breath as his limbs moved almost uncontrollably. He would babble out anxiety fueled rambles until the moment passed, then usually retreat into the safety of solitude for a while as he tried to piece himself back together. 

Steve just looked… gone, lost somewhere none of them could reach him. 

But Jeff would be the expert on panic attacks, so if he said that was what this was, then Eddie just had to trust him and hope he could help Steve. Unwillingly Eddie took a single step back, falling into line with the rest of the group who had crept over at some point, and were now all staring at the scene with a mixture of horror and confusion. 

“Hey Steve, it’s Jeff, do you recognize me?” Jeff asked calmly, keeping his tone even and clear. He seemed completely zen, unphased by the very frightening moment. The only way Eddie could tell anything was amiss was the way Jeff’s fists were clenched tight at his sides, an easy tell that he was trying to keep his hands from shaking. 

Steve looked up when Jeff started speaking to him, giving one short nod after a prolonged pause. 

“That’s good. Can I come sit by you?” Jeff asked, starting to step closer. Instantly Steve seemed to be back on guard, stiffening up and pressing his back even harder against the van. Jeff took the shift in stride, taking a step back and holding his hands out.

“Alright, alright. I’ll stay right here. That’s better?”

Another pause. Another short nod. 

Jeff took a second to think, then slowly slid down so he was sitting across from Steve on the ground of the parking lot, crossing his legs and taking a long calming breath. 

“Do you know where you are right now?”

Yet another pause as Steve contemplated the question. Eddie watched as Steve’s blank look shifted first to confusion, then to fear as he shook his head. Steve’s lip started to wobble as his eyes turned glassy and filled with fright. 

“That’s okay,” Jeff said soothingly, clearly trying to get ahead of whatever was starting to grow inside Steve’s mind. “You’re at the Hideout in the parking lot with me, Jeff. Our other friends are here too. Eddie, Frank, Janet, Rocky, and Gareth. You came to listen to the band play tonight, do you remember that?” 

Steve nodded, letting out a long slow exhale, a bit of the tension in his shoulders dropping. His hands slowly slid out of his hair, fingers playing with the loose gravel of the parking lot. 

“I think you’re having a panic attack,” Jeff explained. His words were blunt, but his tone was still soft. “Have you had one before? Do you know what caused it?”

Steve’s jaw clenched up even tighter. Eddie found his mind starting to count the seconds, needing something to do in the moment in order to stop himself from speaking. 

He got up to thirty four before Steve finally opened his mouth. 

“The lights,” Steve whispered, sighing and reaching up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “It was… it was the lights.”

“Lights? I don’t- It was… it was just a power outage, Sweetheart,” Eddie blurted out, unable to hold his words back. His mind was racing to try and fit the piece into the puzzle, but no matter how he thought about it, Eddie simply couldn’t comprehend how the lights of all things caused Steve to fall into such a panic. 

He looked back at the rest of the group, seeing if any of them had any clue what was going on, but they all had the same confused fright on their faces. 

“No. It wasn’t,” Steve stated immediately, his voice firm and set. His eyes were hard again, and he was staring at the ground with a mixture of hate and fear that made Eddie’s stomach clench up tightly. “It was not just a power outage, and I need to check on my kids.” 

“Steve-“

“I need to check on my kids,” Steve repeated, interrupting Jeff harshly. Now that the tension was broken, the words seemed to be coming easier, and Steve cleared his throat before continuing, “My bag has what I need, but the doors were locked. I got out here and then the doors...”

Steve trailed off, looking lost. 

“I’ll grab your bag,” Gareth offered, startling them all. He held his hand out for the keys, and Eddie gave him a look, raising a brow. If it was anyone else, Eddie wouldn’t even hesitate, but Gareth offering to do something for Steve of his own free will was like the devil offering to tie Jesus’s shoe. 

“It’s okay, I got it,” Gareth said, softening his voice, something far too close to pity in his eyes as his gaze flitted over to Steve, then back to Eddie, conveying without words that Eddie leaving Steve at this moment seemed like a bad idea

Despite the tension of the moment, a part of Eddie relaxed. Gareth was just being Gareth- the good Gareth that Eddie knew was hiding under bitchy mean Gareth that had cropped up out of nowhere. Eddie tossed him his keys and the rest walked to the other side of the van, talking in harsh low whispers that Eddie couldn’t quite make out. 

“This can’t be happening again,” Steve whispered when it was just the three of them, a breathy half laugh escaping alongside the words as he wrapped his arms around his knees and tucked his head down. “God, it’s really never gonna be fucking over, is it?”  

The question was obviously rhetorical, Steve probably wasn’t even really talking to them, but a physical pain started to grow in Eddie’s chest from the utter defeat radiating off of Steve in miserable waves. 

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m not going to ask,” Jeff stated, taking the risk to scoot closer and maneuvering himself so he was sitting next to Steve, his back flat against the van, “but, while we’re waiting for them to get what you need, do you want to try a grounding technique?”

“A what?” Steve asked, just barely raising his head. Jeff began to explain his favorite grounding technique, using short and easy to understand sentences to go over exactly what he was suggesting. Steve uncurled ever so slightly as Jeff was speaking, his full attention on the younger boy. Even Eddie was caught in the lull of Jeff’s tone, his heart starting to finally flow down. 

Then he heard his name. 

“Eddie.”

It was Gareth on the other side of the van, holding Steve’s bag up and giving Eddie a wide eyed look of horror. He gestured for Eddie to come over with a jerky handwave, and Eddie gave him a look. Wasn’t the whole point for Eddie to stay? Why was Gareth trying to pull him away just as they were starting to make progress. 

“Eddie. Now,” Frank whispered harshly, his head popping up next to Gareth’s. He also looked freaked the fuck out, still far too pale. 

“I’ve got him, Eds,” Jeff said in that same soothing tone pulling another deep breath and watching as Steve obediently copied the motion. “Go see what they need.” 

Eddie really wanted to just say fuck it and stay exactly where he was, but Steve was starting to get some color back in his cheeks, and if whatever was in that bag would help, then Eddie needed to get that for him. 

So, very reluctantly, Eddie walked around to the other side of the van, leaving Jeff and Steve alone. 

“What?!” Eddie snapped the second he was out of earshot of the two boys, throwing Gareth a harsh glare. If this was another trick or some weird tactic to fuck with Steve, then Eddie was going to seriously have to reconsider their friendship at this point. 

“Look,” Gareth hissed, shoving Steve’s bag into Eddie’s hands. 

Eddie peered in the bag, still annoyed and confused. It was all normal stuff. Well, a little weird. Steve’s car keys, a flashlight, a walkie-talkie��� a first aid kit… and…

“Why does he have a knife?!” Gareth snarled, looking more terrified than angry. 

“Lots of people have knives,” Eddie said, trying to sound calm. The words came out strangled, falsely cool in a way that made it obvious to all of them that Eddie was just as uncomfortable as they were. 

“Okay, but why does he need that right now, Eddie?” Janet asked. It was a good question, but one that Eddie couldn’t possibly come up with an answer for. 

Why did Steve need a knife right now? Why would he even bring it with him tonight? 

“Eddie? What’s going on?” Jeff called from the other side of the van, still blissfully unaware of the latest update to their situation. Eddie shook his head roughly, dropping the knife back into the bag and zipping it up, holding it behind his back as he rounded the front of the van again. 

“What is it you need from your bag, Steve?” Eddie questioned, keeping his voice firm as he stared down at Steve. 

“My walkie-talkie?” Steve answered, a picture of innocence. He had one hand flat on the ground, and the other tangled up in Eddie’s necklace, his thumb worrying across the face of the guitar pick. Then Steve's words came back to him. 

I need to check on my kids. 

Hot shame flooded Eddie’s stomach as he remembered exactly what had led to all of them snooping in Steve’s stuff. Steve had just wanted to reach out to the kids, that was all. The knife wasn’t really that weird in retrospect, just another overprotective Steve thing. He wasn’t about to get stab happy on them, he just wanted a way to protect himself if it became necessary. 

Eddie could understand that. 

“Is it not there?” Steve wondered, some anxiety starting to leak into his tone the longer Eddie just stood there. “I’m sure I brought it, but-”

“No, I have it right here, sweetheart,” Eddie said, interrupting the thought before it could even form. He tugged the walkie-talkie out of the bag and handed it to Steve, sitting on the ground next to him and watching as Steve flipped it on and switched the channels, taking a deep breath before holding down the talk button.

“Guys?” 

He let go of the receiver, and immediately there was an explosion of voices as the kids all began to scream over each other, shouting Steve’s name and endless questions. It was impossible to make out exact words in the mayhem, but Eddie wasn’t interested in that. He was busy focusing on Steve. 

Despite the fact that he was still trembling, the pinched brow and nervous look in Steve’s eyes faded the second he heard the kid’s voices. He sighed, leaning his head back until it softly hit the van, letting the tension fall from his shoulders as his eyes slipped shut. 

“See? All okay,” Eddie murmured, needing to add extra reassurance now that he thought he could. Steve shot him a weary little smile, rubbing the guitar pick around his neck once more before pushing down the talk button once more. 

“What are we dealing with?” Steve asked, about to put the walkie-talkie back down before the sound of shoes on gravel caught his attention. As Gareth, Rocky, Frank, and Janet walked back around the van, Steve continued “and I’m not by myself right now, so don’t say any stupid shit.”

���Who are you with?” Lucas’s voice said from the walkie-talkie, sounding tinny and electronic. 

“And say over next time. Over,” Will added. 

“The fucking ‘over’ bullshit,” Steve said to himself with a roll of his eyes before picking it back up. “I’m at the Hideout with Eddie, now what are we dealing with?!” 

Silence. Eddie looked at Steve with a raised brow, and when Steve looked around in annoyance, Eddie caught his eye and mouthed the word ‘over’. 

“Jesus H,” Steve muttered, looking up at the sky as if begging God to help him. “OVER!”

“Well we don’t know that yet, Steve,” Dustin promptly responded the second Steve’s finger left the button, his tone dripping with far too much sass. "We were too busy looking for you! Over.”

“I’m gonna kill them,” Steve stated, rubbing at his temple, “I’m legitimately going to kill them.” 

“Everybody shut up,” A new voice barked. Eddie knew it from somewhere, but he couldn’t place it. She wasn’t one of the kids, Eddie knew that much, but he couldn’t figure it out. “Steve, Jonathan and I will be at the Hideout in five minutes. Do not move. Over and out.” 

After a few seconds of staticky silence, Steve groaned, pushing the antennae of the walkie-talkie down and turning it off. 

“Of course she’s coming here. Of course,” Steve whispered, unknowingly mirroring Eddie’s exact thought process right after the power outage. 

“Wait, wait, wait. Was that Nancy Wheeler?” Janet asked incredulously, her jaw hanging wide open. 

No. Nope. There was no way. 

“Yeah, it was,” Steve said with a sigh, forcing himself into a standing position and stretching his shoulders. 

He was completely nonchalant about it, like it was perfectly normal to have your ex on walkie-talkie speed dial, and it was only natural for her to come collect you like a haggard housewife the second she thought you might be in trouble. 

“Nancy Wheeler, your ex girlfriend,” Eddie said dumbly, just to be sure he wasn’t being punked.

“The one and only,” Steve said dryly, becoming more and more himself with every second. It was like hearing Nancy’s voice had flipped a switch, and the vulnerable nervous Steve that had been sitting on the ground by his van was gone in an instant, replaced by a flippant easy going boy that looked like nothing had ever happened to him at all. 

It was bizarre, uncanny in a disarmingly normal way. Eddie had always kind of admired Steve’s coolness, how nothing seemed to phase him.

Now it just felt… not disingenuous per say, but more layered than it was before. It wasn’t completely an act, but Steve was definitely hiding so much more than Eddie ever could have assumed. 

“Why is Nancy Wheeler coming here?” Eddie asked slowly as he stood up, watching Steve like a hawk and looking for any kind of micro change in his expression. He got nothing. Steve was a brick wall. 

“Even if I could tell you, you wouldn’t believe me,” Steve said with a wry smile that didn’t look much like a smile at all. Before he could say anything else, they all heard the sound of tires squealing nearby, and a pair of headlights peeled into the parking lot. Steve moved like a man possessed, jogging around the van and towards the car still speeding into the lot. 

“What the fuck was all that?” Rocky said, asking the question all of them were wondering. Eddie shrugged, following Steve’s path and watching as Nancy Wheeler jumped out of the passenger seat of the still parking car, ignoring Jonathan Byers' shouting at her from the driver’s side as she strode towards where Steve had stopped. 

“What the hell, Steve?!” She snapped the second she had pulled herself away from the car. “No one knew where you were. You didn’t tell anyone, or leave a note, or anything. What were you thinking?!” 

“What was I- Nancy, what are you talking about?” Steve said defensively, turning around to briefly give Eddie a ‘can you believe this’ look before turning back to his ex who was still fuming. 

Eddie didn’t really know anything about Nancy Wheeler, it wasn’t like they ran in the same circles whatsoever, but he certainly had never expected to see her like this. There was two high spots of red on her cheeks, and her eyes were flashing in a way that just screamed danger. 

“You can’t just disappear out of nowhere! Do you get how irresponsible that is?” Nancy asked rhetorically, not giving Steve a second to answer before she barreled forward, “Mike and the others wanted to make a search party and start riding around on their bikes looking for you. What are you even doing here?”

“I didn’t realize going out was a crime,” Steve said in a moody tone, crossing his arms over his chest and giving Nancy a cool glare. 

Things were quickly devolving between the two of them, and as much as Eddie wanted to intervene, he hung back and observed. That was the thing most people didn’t realize about him. Eddie could be quiet and listen when it benefitted him. 

“It is if you don’t tell me where you are!” Nancy exploded, throwing her hands up as she did. “Especially if it’s because you’re hiding that you’re doing something dangerous.”  

With those words she poignantly turned her glare towards Eddie, as if he personally was holding Steve hostage. Steve’s face screwed into a dark scowl and he stepped so he was back directly in Nancy’s view line, blocking her from the others. 

Protecting Eddie from her. 

That shouldn’t have made him feel as warm as it did. 

“Nancy. I don’t know how you forgot, but let me remind you- We. Broke. Up,” Steve said, each word punching directly out of his chest and exposing just how raw that still fresh wound was. “You’re dating Jonathan now, so what I do, and who I’m friends with, and how I spend my time isn’t your problem anymore.” 

“Nance,” Jonathan said, trying to grab Nancy’s arm. She pulled away from his grip, stepping close to Steve. 

“Yes, it is my problem! You are still my problem!” She shouted. 

Eddie would’ve chalked it all up to crazy ex-girlfriend disease and dragged Steve away from the fight, but something strange was developing. The anger was quickly draining away from Nancy’s features and all that was left was a painful grief, the kind that made Eddie want to turn his head and find anything else to look at. This wasn’t just a jealousy thing, or psycho ex behavior. 

This was something more. 

“Look, I know we broke up, and I know that’s my fault, but first the lights flickered, then power went out, and none of us could find you,” Nancy said, looking down at the ground as her voice began to waver and her features inevitably turned towards tears. “You weren’t at your house. It was empty, and it was just the pool, and no one there, and I thought- I thought-”

Eddie would never know what Nancy had been trying to say, because Steve enveloped her in his arms at that moment, holding her gently against his chest as he shielded her from the rest of the world. 

There was a momentary flare of jealousy that ignited in Eddie’s chest, a second where he felt a blinding, irrational hatred for Nancy Wheeler and everything she was. But then Steve was holding out his other arm to Jonathan, who hesitated for a second and looked extremely uncomfortable, but came closer nonetheless, all three of them sharing an exhausted hug. Jonathan and Nancy put Steve between the two of them, joining their hands between his shoulder blades as they held him close. 

Whatever was going on here, it wasn’t romantic. No need to be jealous. 

Not that Eddie had any right to be jealous in the first place. It shouldn’t matter that Steve seemed to have some sort of weird magnanimous relationship with his ex and her new boyfriend. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t his concern. 

It mattered. It mattered so much. 

“I’m fine, see? Right here,” Steve said, slightly muffled by the two people still holding him like he was the most precious object in the universe. 

“You can’t do that,” Nancy managed to gasp out, clearly in tears given how thick her voice had gotten, even if Eddie couldn't see them. “I can’t lose you too.” 

Too? Who had Nancy lost? 

The questions were only continuing to mount, and Eddie wondered if you could get a panic attack just by standing close to someone who had just had one. It was certainly getting harder to breathe the longer he looked at the three of them. 

“You’re not losing me,” Steve said firmly, as if he was writing it into law just by saying it out loud, “we aren’t losing anyone again.”

“You can’t know that,” Nancy said, her voice so soft Eddie almost missed it. As she did Jonathan looked up, hooking his chin on Steve’s shoulder as he made eye contact with Eddie. 

“Guys,” Jonathan called, reluctantly pulling away and nodding his head towards the rest of Hellfire who were all still standing there. Nancy quickly wiped at her eyes and Steve stepped back, putting distance between him and the couple again. 

“Hopper went to the lab,” Nancy said, picking her words slowly and carefully. “He dropped um… her off at my house with the rest of the kids.” 

Her?

“How is she?” Steve asked. Well, he knew, but Eddie was still in the dark. Who could ‘her’ be? Nancy had a little sister, didn’t she? Maybe she had a tendency to run off or something. 

“She’s freaked out. She passed out when the power outage happened, but we don’t know why yet,” Jonathan answered, wrapping his arms around his stomach. 

Steve sighed, swiping a hand across his face and turning around. He jogged over to grab his bag, slinging it over one shoulder as he walked back over. 

“Let’s just go. I don’t want to leave the kids alone right now,” Steve said, slipping back into his role as babysitter as easy as breathing. Jonathan and Nancy both nodded, waiting until Steve was in line with them before starting to walk to the car. 

It hurt almost, being forgotten, dismissed. It was like they had never even existed, like nothing else that had happened tonight mattered. 

It wasn’t like Eddie didn’t know he and the others weren’t Steve’s first choice of friends, but having it so blatantly thrown in his face didn’t feel all that great. There was an extra sting when Eddie considered exactly who those first choice friends were. 

Steve would apparently rather spend time with his ex and her new boyfriend over Eddie and his friends. 

Whatever. No problem. Eddie shoved the feeling down in his chest, deep where it would bother him all night long, but where it wouldn’t come out in mean lashing words towards anyone else.

But, as he spun on his heel and went to go stomping back towards his van, a shout behind his back stopped Eddie in his tracks. 

“Eddie!” 

Steve was running over to them, the back passenger door of Jonathan’s car still wide open. He slid to a stop right in front of Eddie, panting just a bit as he reached up towards Eddie’s neck. 

“I totally forgot,” Steve said apologetically, expertly unclasping the necklace and reaching over. Eddie shivered, sucking a sharp breath in as Steve’s arms wrapped around his neck, fingers just barely grazing Eddie’s skin as he returned the necklace to its rightful owner. 

“I had a really nice time tonight,” Steve murmured, looking up at Eddie with those big cow eyes and a bashful little smile. 

“Really?” Eddie said, thrilled but unable to believe it. Steve was probably just being nice, that was all. 

“Well, before,” Steve amended, his cheeks turning a soft red as he took one step back, futzing with Eddie’s necklace so it sat perfectly in the center of his chest. “I really liked your band.” 

“I’m glad,” Eddie managed to stammer out, both hating and loving the way his entire brain was turning to mush the longer Steve had his hand on his chest. Steve had liked the band, he liked the music. 

That didn’t mean he liked Eddie, but there was no denying the thrill that was shooting up Eddie’s spine. 

“Seriously. Thank you,” Steve said, patting Eddie right above his heart once more before mercifully pulling away. “It was nice to just get to be a little… normal.” 

“Anytime, Sweetheart,” Eddie replied, biting his tongue before he could do something stupid like promise that Steve could be normal with him whenever he wanted. 

“By the way you guys are all invited to my place for a Christmas Eve Eve party! It’s on Friday,” Steve said, turning to address all six of them. “I was going to mention it on the ride home but well- Anyway, we’re doing a yankee swap, so bring a present. Oh, and invite Kaiden too.” 

“A what?” Frank asked. Eddie also wasn’t sure what ‘Yankee Swap’ meant, but he was never going to turn down an invite to a party. Especially a party at Steve’s. The Harrington house hadn’t been the subject of a rager in quite a while, but if this was going to be anything like those parties, then it was not one to be missed. 

Plus it meant more time with Steve. 

“Dude!” Jonathan shouted from his car. 

“Coming!” Steve called back. He gave Eddie a quick flash of a smile before starting to run towards the car, waving a hand behind him as he did. 

“It starts at seven. See you then, Babydoll!” 

And then he was gone, disappearing into the car and driving away before any of them could give him a proper answer. 

Tag List: @paopaupaus @zerokrox-blog @surferboyzaza @whatever-is-a-good-name @minjintea @addelyin @5ammi90 @hagbaby420 @shinekocreator @bornonthesavage @starxlark @electrick-marionnett @resident-gay-bitch @ash-a-confused-enby @classicdinosaurdeathpose @valon-whomsttf @rotten-lil-goblin @thereindeerlady @love-ya-kash @kerlypride @sparkle-fiend @thefreakandthehair @flowercrowngods @milf-harrington @sadcanadianwinter @gothbat99 @hotcocoaharrington @henderdads @lightwoodbanethings @colorful565 @h0n3y-dw @craterbbox @sourw0lfs @lesliiieeeee @bidisastersworld @tinynebula @ravnlinn @bonescaro @mexmatch @cottagecoredreams @joruni @hellykelly @maegan1116 @farewell-wanderlvst @desertfern @due-to-the-fact-that-im-a-slut @anythingforourmoonyedits @eerielake @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @sidekick-hero

[angelyuji]

first dates with my faves 😁 : nanami, loki, mammon, arvin, peter maximoff, and 707: yandere edition

cw // forced kissing, guys having a weird thing for innocence, stalking, breaking in and stealing personal items, society, awkward dates, kidnapping, mild to extreme yanderes, shoplifting, unconsensual touching, implied murder, religion is used wrongly to control

nanami: expensive restaurant - is on edge after being forced to go (by gojo). he’ll be watching your every move: the way you talk, the way you sit, the way you excuse yourself. he’ll size you up: your dress, your shoes, your jewelry. god, youre so polite and so friendly, his heart warms at your smile. your mannerisms make him wanna grab you and just hold you close. you’d get your menus and he’d order, then he’ll look at you and you’ll only be able to open your mouth before he just orders for you. you’ll be surprised, but you won’t say anything. giving him enough information to know that you’re perfect for him. he’s not the type to kiss or take you home on the first date, nanami is a gentleman, but you...you’re an exception. he’ll take you to your front door before watching your eyes. he sees such an innocent shine and he wants to protect that innocence for himself. he’ll lean in, holding the back of your head, and he’ll force bring you into a kiss. you’ll warm up to him eventually.

“my tie would look beautiful around your neck, darling”

loki: reallly expensive restaurant - like nanami, he’d be watching your every move. he’ll treat you like you’re inferior to him. he does not wanna be on this date, so he’s not gonna treat you that well. he’s watching you in absolute distaste, hoping you’ll slip up so he can tear you down. watching the way your outfit hugs you, the way you pick up you utensils, the way you laugh every time he sneers at each course. halfway through the dinner, he’ll realize that he’s paying more attention to you than his own dinner. loki won’t wait for you to pick something to eat, not because he wants to see if you’re his type, but because he doesn’t care about what you want. you’ll eat what he orders, no exceptions. the more you go along with everything he says, the more he’ll start looking at you as more of a pet than inferior to him. at the end, if ur not absolutely done with the bs, he’ll drive to your place and look you up and down. as you squirm, he’ll smirk before pulling you into a kiss. you wont be able to fight the kiss, his grip on you strong. then, he’ll reach over, open the door, and tell you to get out. he’ll come back for later though when you’re least prepared.

“get your clothes, pet. you’re coming with me”

peter maximoff: shoplifting - he's all casual, looking to have fun. you walk in to the mall thinking you're going to go shopping as a first date, and he's gonna be late. he'll be watching you from afar to see if he likes you, first. he'll look at your outfit, the stores you go in, what kind of clothes you browse through. he'll speed in, grab your phone, and scroll through that. 30 minutes into your date time, he'll show up in front of you, dragging you off into one of the designer stores. its a test when he grabs the first shirt off the rack, he wants to see how you’d react. are you a prude or are you the one he's been waiting for? are you gonna get angry or just let him do his thing. he'll watch your face as he grabs more and more, seeing you react makes him chuckle. your face twisting in worry, glancing back behind your shoulder every time an employee walks over. he starts to enjoy getting you all riled up and anxious. he laughs every time you ask him to stop and tells you to just relax, he knows what he's doing. by the end of the night, your nerves are shot and you feel like throwing up every time you glance towards the bag of stolen goods. peter doesn't kiss you, but tells you he'll call you before speeding away and leaving you in the mall parking lot.

"don't worry, no one will find out what we're doing"

mammon: watching the stars - mammon will text you to meet him in the planetarium. he’ll have everything ready: a blanket, some snakes, and music. he knows you and he knows you love him already, this "first" date is just confirming to him that you're his. he'll be so sweet for the first time (and the last). he'll be complimenting you so much, calling you his sweet angel, his love, his lovely human. it'll be the little things though, that leave you on edge. the soft touches, the hand on the thigh, the hand too low on your back, the way he moves you to his lap. small things that leave you feeling gross. mammon would be so happy you choose him. he'd never show it, of course, but you'll see it with every hidden smile and the clammy hands. he'd tell you to lay down next to him and he'd force you to lay your head on his arm. every couple moments mammon would inch closer and closer, and soon you'll be a tangled mess of limbs. by the end of your date, mammon would be nuzzling into your neck and you're more rigid than a new pair of shoes. there is no walking back to your room with mammon, he'll keep you next to him till the next morning or take you to his room.

"you smell really nice. why're you moving away, come closer to me"

arvin russel: drive-in theater - arvin will come to your house to pick you up. he'll be jittery and the moment you climb into his car, he'll be heads over heels in love. your gorgeous smile, the way your outfit shines in the setting sun, the way your shoes sound on the dirt. he lives for the simple things that you do. he's seen you for 5 seconds and he's obsessed with you. he'll be a gentleman, getting out of the car to open your door, keeping his hands to himself the entire drive to the theater. you're so pure to him, so innocent, so clean unlike him. he'll be listening to you talk about your family and your life with so much attention. you'll blush when you finally feel his stare, but he'll just tell you to continue, saying that he likes hearing your voice as he drives. if you confess about someone that has hurt you, he'll store that information away, and reach for you hand. he'd glow if you accept. once you reach the theater, he'll go and get snacks, locking the doors just in case. by the time he's back, the movie would have started and you're engrossed in the movie, he'd watch you for a little while. the way your eyebrows furrow, the slight bit of your bottom lip, and he'd smile when you tense at the sound of him opening the door. you'll lean on him, sending his heart into a fit. he'll hid his smile with his hand as your grip on his other hand tightens. when the movie ends, he'll drive you back and you'll both talk about the movie. he'll walk you to your door. you'll stare at each other, blushing, before he leans in and you follow suit. to arvin, you both fit together perfectly. once he leaves you, he'll go take care of anyone that can stand in his way.

"you hurt her. you hurt my girl... you're gonna have to pay for that."

707: picnic in the woods - the both of you were on house arrest to stay away from the agency’s radar, so when seven saw the chance to finally take you on a proper first date…he took it. he wants to treat you like the princess you are, even if you weren’t that willing to be with him. he’d set everything up before the date and make saeran drop u off. he’ll meet you at the start with a trail of roses. he’ll have a hand on your arm the entire time to make sure that you don’t stray from the path, and once you get there, fairy lights strung up on the trees, a red and white plaid blanket laid carefully in the middle, cute cat plates, and a picnic basket overflowing with food. as much as you hated being around your obsessive lover, you couldn’t help but be in awe of his hard work. he brought food that you’d enjoy and different games to play as you guys talk. saeyoung would make your date the most aesthetically pleasing. from the cute summer dress he forced you to wear to the cakes in wine glasses, he’d make it a date fit for a princess. he’ll watch as you eat, taking note of the way you cover your mouth to hide your smile. he’ll watch you the entire time in awe of your beauty. no matter what you’re doing, saeyoung will file it away as beautiful. seven would notice how you watch him carefully as well, it seems like you’re planning your next move, but as you get up, he’ll pull you flat on the ground. his arms would wrap around your waist and you’ll hug him back. he kisses you with a passion, pressing against you, trying to show you how he feels without words. your knight… your savior… your god wants a kiss in return for protecting you. how can you refuse?

“i am your god, mc. i’ll always protect you.”

-

[cdroloisms]

more of the mutually assured destruction duo, post-prison this time! this one was really fun, thinking about what this dynamic might be like in the future gives me SO much brainrot, im so excited. this one’s also a little dark, so make sure to read the warnings + tags !! :D 

tw: implied prison abuse, starvation, toxic relationship, touch starvation, manipulation, panic attack, trauma, blood, injury

Dream hasn't been the same since he escaped prison.

And it's ironic, because Wilbur hasn't even been around, has been in hell for fuck's sake playing Competitive Solitaire for nine-odd years, but even he could've seen the self-destruction hanging like a cloud around the other's head from a million miles (and several months? years?) away. Perhaps, he thinks wryly, you can only see the signs when you've lived them, or maybe red flags don't raise alarm when you’ve painted the entire figure in blood, but it doesn't really matter, in the end, because the final result is the same.

Still, it's just a little funny when he's stopped in the middle of his journey through the Nether, not a piece of armor on him per usual and an unused netherite sword slung over his hip.

"Hello, Sapnap." The kid is standing in front of him, eyes gleaming in badly-hidden anger and desperation, smoke rising from the mottled red-black skin on his hands. "Fancy seeing you around."

"You-" Sapnap sputters, unable to speak as his face flushes red in frustration, and Wilbur smiles at him condescendingly. The expression on the other's face is one he's seen before - one Tommy had been particularly inclined to give him in the past, when his emotions raged so heavily that there was nothing for the pressure to do but build, too thick and heavy to force themselves out of his throat. "You're monsters," Sapnap manages, finally, and Wilbur quirks an eyebrow.

At least we're self-aware, he thinks, the all-too-familiar twinge of irritation at Tommy's - and apparently, Sapnap's particular brand of reckless naivety pulsing at the base of his skull. He lets none of these thoughts show on his face as he cocks his head to the side, smiles wider - and Sapnap, just like Tommy, takes the bait.

'Why are you smiling?" He looks achingly young - they all do, really, their expressions and reactions dripping with a sort of innocence and sincerity that dissolved from Wilbur's own face somewhere around the fifteen-hundreth game of poker, and it really does feel ironic, how quickly the outside world can fall apart compared to the unending constancy of the void - but he digresses.

He didn't know Sapnap well before his whole death thing, and as much as he wants to use his partner to get information on the other members of the server, he doesn't really think Dream is really even lucid enough for that - the man clearly hasn't been thinking clearly, not for a long time. It doesn't matter, though, because you learn to read people when your life becomes nothing but running the same broken-edged memories over and over again in your mind and smiling jaggedly over the same few card games - Wilbur had always been a people watcher, and Sapnap's feelings are stamped on every corner of his face.

"Monster, huh," he says, saying the word slowly, rolling it over his tongue like he's tasting it for the first time, watching from the corner of his eye as Sapnap squirms, "Interesting word you've got here. You use it often?"

Sapnap bristles, smoke curling from his nostrils - "It's what you are, dickhead."

Rolling his eyes internally, Wilbur keeps up the act, humming as he fiddles idly with his cufflink. "I mean, if you really believe that," he rocks forward on his right foot, stifling a smile at the way the younger draws back, "But really, it's all a matter of perspective." He twists himself around, pivoting around his heel, beginning to walk in an arc around Sapnap's left side, watching as he spins around, shoulders drawn up to his ears. "What do you think?"

"I think that you're full of shit," he says, voice flat, and Wilbur laughs. It's genuine, really, because well - Sapnap's different. He's fun; the entire server is, after so long in the void. You can only spend so much time with the same two people before they drive you a little up the metaphorical wall, but Sapnap's reactions are fresh and new and different, still saturated with vitality that hasn’t been leached out by the same deck of cards in the same scarred hands shuffled and reshuffled for eternity. He's interesting, and new, and most of all, predictable.

"Say, Sapnap," he continues, blowing over the other's anger, knowing that it'll only make the frustration build more. He lets his hair flop lazily over one eye, lets his smile grow wider, lips pressed together in amusement, turns his face so that it's lit eerily by the lava lake beneath them. "If we're monsters for, I don't know, setting off a few stacks of TNT," he waves his hand flippantly, watching the muscle of the other's jaw jump in poorly-hidden rage, "What does that make you for what you did to Dream?"

Sapnap's eyes go wide, and Wilbur knows he's struck the jackpot. He lets his lips part to reveal bared teeth, jagged and glinting in the light. "I'm sorry, did that hit a nerve?"

The kid's mouth opens- closes- emotions warring on his face, fists curling and uncurling at his sides, lip trembling. "We- we had to-" his hands come to his face, palms digging into his eyes, and while he's not looking, Wilbur draws his expression back a bit, becoming softer, more welcoming. When Sapnap looks back up, his eyes are shining, hands shaking still; he steps forward, then rocks back on his back foot like he doesn't know where to go. "What do you mean?" he throws the words like they're meant to be a threat, but by the end his voice has devolved into something high-pitched and keening, overflowing with desperate grief that Wilbur latches onto like a starving man (ha) with his last meal.

"I'm sorry, it does seem rather insensitive for me to assume," he resumes pacing around the other, voice lilting, soft, "I just mean, it seemed pretty obvious, don't you think? I don't think I've ever seen someone so skinny, really, but I guess that is what happens when you get starved,"

"Shut up-"

"Not to mention the whole panicking thing, I mean, he's like Tommy sometimes with all of the fucking shaky breathing and mumbling around like creepers, not that I'd know what all of that's about," he watches Sapnap through half-hooded eyes, darkly amused, "and pickaxes, oddly enough, but oh well. Who am I to judge?"

"Shut up-"

"And all of the scars - I thought they were from you, honestly, he told me about the whole 'taking his last life' thing, but then he jumped into lava one day - I guess there wasn't much to do in that cell, huh? He didn't even scream, it's really pretty fucking incredible - I thought I'd actually have to break him down a bit, but really, you've made my life so much easier-"

"SHUT UP-"

Wilbur watches with a too-wide grin as Sapnap finally, finally charges, a netherite sword appearing in his hand as he races blindly ahead, tears shining on his cheeks, his words more pain than thought as he brings the blade down-

A blur of purple, the sound of crumbling netherrack and metal meeting metal, flesh hitting flesh - Wilbur moves smoothly out of the way as Sapnap crashes to the ground, an armored figure bearing down an axe against the shield he's raised between them.

Dream, hair tangled and long, wearing armor that is far too heavy for his skinny frame, every inch of him shaking in panic, should hardly be a threat - but this is Sapnap, weakened by Wilbur's sharp words and crippled by the shock of seeing his former best friend's face again, eyes still unfocused from the rage and tears that had clouded over them moments before, so he can do little but raise his shield as the netherite slams into it, again and again. Not a word falls from Dream's lips, but he brings down the weapon at a ruthless pace - ever since he's been free, his attack style has changed greatly from the defensive style he used to favor, even to Wilbur's untrained eye - there's no skill, no art to the way he attacks anymore, just the fearful ferocity of a dog trapped in a cage for far, far too long.

He finally kicks Sapnap down the netherrack cliff that they're on, the other man left to nurse his wounds below them - Wilbur doesn't bother sparing him another thought; Dream's far too weak to cause any permanent damage. Instead, he approaches his partner, weapon, with a smile, watching, satisfied, when he whirls around with a manic expression.

"I'm alright, see?" he croons as Dream's shoulders move up and down with his heaving breaths, eyes fever-bright, teeth bared. He brings a hand down on the other's shoulder and watches as he flinches at the movement, breath hitching, every muscle freezing, knuckles pale on the handle of his axe, before moving again, stumbling forwards, hands reaching for Wilbur's head and stopping halfway. Wilbur tips his head forward, lets the shorter brush his face with trembling fingers, checking his unmarred skin for blood through the purpling bruises already forming on his cheek, and thinks how powerful he is to have a god at his beck and call, a perfect attack dog brought to heel, death itself obediently at his side.

Dream hasn't been the same since he escaped prison, and as Wilbur runs his hand up and down his back, feeling the way his spine arches at the touch, at the fluttering pulse under the skin-and-bone wrist under his fingers, he thinks how fortunate he is to be the first to notice.

[lostinthewiind]

𝓙𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓪 𝓙𝓸𝓴𝓮

Bokuto Kōtarō - Haikyuu

Synopsis: when your best friend, Bokuto, asks you out in front of his entire volleyball team, you’re sure that he’s just joking around and play it off as such. What you don’t know, however, is that he is completely serious.

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Glancing down at the time on your phone screen, you sighed softly and picked up the pace a little, moving as quickly as possible through the halls of Fukurodani without breaking into a full-out run. You were supposed to have met Bokuto at the gym doors to walk home together about twenty minutes ago but your own club meeting had run late and there was nothing you could really do about it.

Normally, this wouldn’t be much of an issue, but you knew Bokuto far too well and knew that being late and not having the time to text him would probably send him into a downward spiral. He was probably already complaining that you had completely forgotten about him and found a new best friend or something. Yes, he was that dramatic.

When you finally reached the gym doors the two of you usually met at, you were surprised to see that he wasn’t sitting in front of it sulking. In fact, he wasn’t there at all. There was no Bokuto in sight.

Assuming that his practice was running late as well, you simply slid open the gym doors as quietly as possible, so as to not disturb anything if the practice was still going on, and peeked your head inside. What you saw, however, was not volleyball practice. 

Standing in the middle of the gym, the entire volleyball team was gathered around Bokuto and whispering. 

Suddenly feeling as though you had interrupted something much more important than volleyball practice, you moved to close the door again and wait outside quietly for whatever was going on to end. Before you could leave unnoticed, however, Bokuto’s wide eyes locked onto you over his teammates’ shoulders and a characteristic grin spread across his face. 

“Y/N!” he shouted and gave an exaggerated wave, bringing a halt to the whispering all at once as everyone turned to face you.

Stopping in your tracks, you waved back sheepishly. “Sorry to interrupt. My club ran a little longer than I thought,” you said. “I’ll just wait outside for you.”

“No, don’t go!” Bokuto snapped rather abruptly, his tone a little more demanding than he had originally intended. All of a sudden, the tone in the gymnasium flipped like a switch. You couldn’t put your finger on what it was, exactly, but something was definitely going on. 

Akaashi’s eyes flitted from you to Bokuto and then back at you again. Soon, everyone on the team was glancing between you and the tall, owl-eyed man. 

“Did the volleyball team turn into a cult overnight?” You chuckled, trying to ease the tension. “Am I the chosen sacrifice?”

When no one answered, you turned to Bokuto, whose smile was slowly faltering. He was fidgeting with his hands at his sides and his gaze kept breaking from you to look at the ground. That was the tipping point for you to realize that something truly was going on. Bokuto was never this weird around you. 

“Okay, out with it.” You crossed your arms across your chest. “What’s wrong?”

Bokuto continued to remain silent, cautiously turning back to look at his teammates, who were all nodding at him encouragingly. 

“Oh, for crying out loud.” Akaashi shoved him forward forcefully. “Will you get on with it already so we can all go home?”

Feeling a tingle of nerves work its way up your spine, you straightened up and swallowed hard. “I was kidding about the cult thing earlier . . . but now I’m actually getting worried. Bokuto, seriously, what’s going on?”

“Y/N . . . I . . .” Bokuto stumbled over his words and it was easy to sense the gears working overtime in his head. Eventually, it seemed as though a wave of confidence washed over him and he looked you dead in the eyes. “Y/N, would you like to go out with me?”

The gym had never been so quiet. All eyes were on you, waiting impatiently for you to respond. 

You felt your heart pound harshly against your ribcage and knew that you had to say something soon in case the thumping got louder and the boys were able to hear it. A thin layer of sweat spread across your palms and your mouth hung open slightly.

Was this really happening right now? Was your best friend—and the man you had secretly harboured a crush on for the past year—really asking you out? 

No, there was no possible way this was real. You had been lucky enough to get Bokuto to be friends with you at all in the first place and you had decided a long time ago that that was all you were ever going to get. You were happy with that. There was no way Bokuto actually wanted to go out with you. 

This had to be a joke.

Looking at the faces of his teammates, who were still waiting for you to say something, you fabricated the amused glint in their eyes and decided on the spot that this entire thing was some elaborate prank on you. They were all in on it. 

Slowly, you let out a gentle laugh, trying your best not to make it sound nervous but instead, entertained. “You almost got me.” You forced a smile. “That’s a good one, Bokuto, but you should know that your pranks never get past me.”

Bokuto’s hopeful smile faltered for half a second before he too started laughing. “Yeah, haha, you caught me.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and averted his gaze. “The guys all helped me plan it but it wasn’t good enough to trick you, apparently.” He turned to his friends. “Right, guys?”

After a second of confused and stunned silence, the team started nodding and agreeing. “We’ll just have to try harder next time.” The annoyed expression had left Akaashi’s face, only to be replaced with sympathy for his friend who had just gotten shut down in one of the worst ways possible. 

The idea of going out with Bokuto was so humerous to you that you had immediately assumed the entire thing had been a joke. Harsh.

“Well, I’ll wait for you outside.” You turned back toward the door. “Don’t take too long. It’ll be dark soon.”

“Yeah, I’ll be right there.” Bokuto nodded.

As soon as you had stepped outside and closed behind you, you exhaled sharply. The cool breeze on your warm skin was a welcomed feeling and you closed your eyes. Crisis averted. How embarrassing it would have been for you to fall for something so childish.

Willing your pounding heart and nerves to steady, you drew in deep breaths while you waited for your best friend. A part of you wanted to high-tail it back home without him and avoid the awkwardness that was sure to come, but you knew that delaying the initial confrontation after the incident would only make things worse in the long run.

The best thing to do would be to laugh about it together and move on.

Five minutes later, Bokuto emerged from the gym and you fell into pace beside him, the two of you following the path you took home every day—a path you could no doubt walk with your eyes closed at this point, which was exactly what you wanted to do. There was no laughing happening and the last thing you wanted to do was look up into those bright golden eyes beside you and have to face the emotions waiting there.

Halfway through the slow and silent walk, you couldn’t ignore the fact that something was obviously bothering Bokuto. No matter how exhausted or how bad his day had ever been, he always had something to talk your ear off about. The exuberant Fukurodani ace was known for many things, but being reserved and quiet was not one of them.

Then it hit you like a brick wall. He hadn’t been joking at all when he had asked you out. Somehow, he felt the same way about you that you felt about him and you had shut him down, too afraid to look stupid in front of his friends.

Too afraid to confront your true feelings out in the open where everyone could see.

When your footfalls stopped from beside him and you were no longer at his side, Bokuto turned around to face you. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, you voiced what was on your mind.

“You weren’t kidding, were you?”

Bokuto’s eyes softened and his shoulders slumped. “No.”

Anger and sadness overwhelmed you all at once and you slapped your hands over your face to hide the slurry of emotions. “I’m such an idiot!”

“You’re not an idiot.” Bokuto was immediately in front of you, prying your hands away from your face and forcing you to look up at him. “You just don’t feel the same way that I do. That’s okay. We can still be friends.”

“But that’s the thing!” you exclaimed. “I do feel the same way!”

Bokuto’s wide eyes grew even wider and his jaw dropped. “You . . . what?!”

“I thought it was so impossible that you liked me like that that I convinced myself you must have been joking,” you told him. “That’s why I’m an idiot.”

“Why would it be so impossible?”

You let out an exasperated chuckled. “Because you’re you—the larger-than-life ace of Fukurodani who everyone adores—and I’m . . . me. I thought I was pretty lucky to even get to be friends with you in the first place so I had completely written off ever being anything more.”

“You’re right. You are an idiot.” Bokuto grinned wide, proving that there was no malice whatsoever in his words. “Of course I like you! You’re the best person I’ve ever met. You being you is exactly why I like you.”

Balling up your fists at your sides, you huffed. “Then why didn’t you tell me sooner?! I’ve been pining for you for a whole year, Bokuto!”

“A whole year?” Bokuto’s eyes lit up brighter than the night stars. Before you knew what was happening, he was scooping you up into his arms and crushing you into a hug. “You mean to tell me we could have been together for a whole year at this point? We’ve missed out on so much!”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, like what?”

“Like this.” He gently pressed his lips to yours, continuing to hold you tightly in his arms. “We could have been doing that for a whole year.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, your lips curled into a blissful smile. “Well, then I guess we’ve got some catching up to do.” With that, you pulled him close and kissed him once more . . . well, maybe more than just once.

[mourntheantagonist]

billy has asthma

he was diagnosed with it when he was just eight years old after having a severe attack at school during p.e. and neil thought the whole thing was just an attention grab. always telling him to suck it up after a game of baseball when he was gasping for air. reaching for his inhaler only for neil to knock it out of his hands and call him a pussy. “just breathe you big baby!”

the only reason he even had an inhaler was because his mother would be the one to go down and refill his prescription. but when she was gone, there was nothing he could do. neil wouldn’t pay for it and he didn’t have the money. so he just had to deal. which is hard when the same father who won’t buy you your means for breathing also was the one forcing you to play high intensity sports.

he learned to work around it as best he could. going from an outdoor sport like baseball and soccer to an indoor sport like basketball. cold weather always aggravating it more. he was lucky enough to play center, which meant less running back and forth down the court.

smoking somehow made attacks less frequent. years of training his airway to endure smoke inhalation, it didn’t feel better, but constant uncomfort in his lungs made the symptoms something he was able to get used to. the problem arose though that when he did get an attack, it was ten times worse than what he used to have.

his airway felt like it was entirely restricted. it would burn and he could barely even get a wheezing sound to escape. all he could do in those moments was stand with his hands on his head, shut his eyes, and just pray that it went away before it killed him.

there was a time that it nearly did. it was only shortly before they would move off to hawkins when it hit him suddenly with no trigger to cause it. those were the ones that freaked him out the most and had him tossing himself around his room in a panic as he gasped for air. completely in a daze as he felt the effects of a lack of oxygen start to his him and his vision blurred and he became surprisingly calm. tears filling his eyes as his chest felt compressed by a fifty pound weight and his lungs felt like they were on fire.

he can’t remember much of what happened, other than the bright red piece of plastic being waved in his face that he somehow recognized to be an inhaler saved his life. he only pieced it together when he woke up in his bed with max sitting next to him with her hand on his chest. monitoring him as he slept, feeling the rise and fall and making sure he didn’t stop breathing. she just handed the inhaler to him and said she would tell her mom she lost hers and would need a new one.

he savored it for as longs as he could. keeping close track of the number on the back as it ticked down from the 130 remaining puffs to the low digit that it was at now.

now being a playoff game that billy has admittedly been over exerting himself with. their backup center was out with an injury so billy was playing double the time and he was starting to feel his airway tightening and his breath cold in his throat. coughing up a storm but he just kept on pushing and pushing.

until he’s coughing up blood into the pit of his elbow and he’s getting lightheaded. he’s stumbling across the court and eventually he hears a whistle blow and he’s about ready to collapse.

“hit the lockers hargrove. drink some water you’re done.” billy wants to protest but he’s not even sure he could get a word out if he tried. “harrington, go with him and make sure he doesn’t die.”

steve had rolled his ankle halfway through the game so he was also out. so now you had a limping steve supporting a breathless billy on his shoulder all the way to the locker room.

somehow steve knew exactly what to do. billy was sitting on the bench with his hands up over his head, opening up his chest as steve began turning the showers on to the hottest setting, letting the steam fill the room.

“do you have an inhaler?”

billy nods. it’s getting worse and he can feel the familiar fire in his lungs. he’s fighting hard to keep the tears out of his eyes but he can only hope the hot steam hitting his face can mask the falling drops from his lashes.

“where is your stuff?”

billy can’t answer. his breath literally caught in his throat.

“billy you gotta talk to me buddy.”

he can’t. he tries but all that comes out is a wheeze. he just frantically points to the locker across the room and hopes steve can see where he’s pointing to.

steve practically sprints the ten foot distance over to the locker and pulls the duffel out from inside. chaotically sifting through the contents of the bag until he finds the plastic encasing. running back to billy and putting it into his hands. billy quickly brings it to his mouth, pushes down...

and there’s nothing.

just a pathetic puff of air and it barely helps at all. the counter is at zero and all billy can do is chuck the canister across the floor and shut his eyes and say the little prayer he’s said many times before.

steve’s hands find his shoulders and ground him back to the reality he was starting to escape from.

“billy I need you to relax, okay? focus on trying to breathe. it’ll pass just stay calm for me.”

billy takes in a shaky and wheezy breath. it’s not great, but it’s something.

“keep doing that okay? slow and steady, you’ve got it.”

steve’s hands found their way to his cheeks. he was looking right at billy who had his eyes shut with and uncontrollable stream of tears escaping past closed lids. he knew steve was only doing it to straighten his neck and open his airway, but it felt tender. and it helped in more ways than opening his airway.

it made him feel safe in a way. made him feel like all those times when his mom would do the same for him as a kid. walk him all the way through the attack, holding his hand and securing him.

his breathing started to become clearer and the coughing was less frequent.

“that’s it. I’m gonna go get you some water. I’ll be right back.”

“don’t.” billy grabs steve by the wrist. his voice is broken and raspy. “stay.”

steve just looks down at him and kneels right back down in front of him. taking his hands into his own now that they’ve found their way to billy’s lap. gently rubbing circles into his palms as he can feel billy’s breath become increasingly more even. “okay.”

billy just cries. doesn’t care about how pathetic he looks in front of steve because he’s not in any state to be holding his breath. and steve is nothing but kind. kind to the same guy who was anything but kind to him. wiping away at his tears and talking him down from his combined asthma and panic attack. and he didn’t leave.

hugging him loosely enough to where he could still breathe but tightly enough he felt safe and secure until the final buzzer echoed and the locker room filled with the rest of the team.

and when it was all over, he didn’t tell anybody.

instead billy found an inhaler in his locker the following week attached to a note.

“I saw max’s name printed on the label and she told me. tell me when you run out and I’ll refill it for you. don’t fucking die on me dude.”

- steve

[pluviophile-imagines]

3 for bakugo or todoroki

I decided to do Bakugo for this, & then I got this ask after I closed the prompts for this event so I decided to go ahead and do it because it’s actually one of only two Halloween-related ones and I was planning to make this Werewolf!Bakugo anyway lol. This is a fun little AU that just kinda swaps quirks for supernatural creatures, loosely based off of a bunch of campy halloween stuff like Halloweentown and Sabrina The Teenage Witch. Also, the werewolves have destined mates like those dumb Wattpad novels, because sometimes tropes are fun and cute. Also this is THREE TIMES AS LONG AS I MEANT TO MAKE ALL OF THESE but ive also gotten like five??? individual asks for it 😭😭😭so y’all better not let it flop.

3: kissing so desperately that their whole body curves into the other person’s

Though you’ve known Bakugo pretty much your whole life, there’s a lot about werewolves that you don’t know.

If he were a different person, he probably wouldn’t be telling you at 5:47 on his 21st birthday that he’s apparently supposed to figure out who his soulmate is going to be tonight. If he weren’t so closed off, even to his best friend of over a decade and a half, then perhaps you wouldn’t be having this conversation, and perhaps it wouldn’t feel quite like pulling teeth.

“You have a soulmate?” is really all you can say, because most of your mental capacity is going towards keeping the sob in the back of your throat from being audible.

“Yeah,” he grunts. He’s not even looking at you, because he’s holding his phone in one hand and he’s scrolling through it, and though the two of you are sitting on opposite sides of the couch he has your feet in his lap, free arm wrapped all the way around them like he doesn’t want you to leave. “It’s… I dunno. Kinda cool, I guess.”

“All of you have soulmates?”

“Well, yeah. You witches don’t?”

You wrinkle your nose, trying your hardest to ignore the burning at the backs of your eyes. “No. We don’t.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see him purse his lips, as if troubled by the revelation. “Huh. How d’you know who’s the one, then?”

“We just. Figure it out? I guess. Is this why you’ve never dated anyone?”

“Yeah. Not really interested in anyone but my destined.”

He says it so easily, but you know him well enough to understand. He likes the idea of a soulmate; he’s looking forward to figuring out who they are tonight. Who would have guessed that he was a romantic?

It’s awful. It makes your chest burn. You’d only come to terms with your crush on the guy two months ago. Now he’s gonna be taken from you by some random person he’s never met?

No, you suppose, he’s always belonged to them. That’s how it works, right?

“D’you know who it’ll be?”

“Hah? No, dumbass, if I did that would defeat the purpose.” Bakugo pauses, glancing over at you with just his eyes, then darting them away just as fast. It’s probably just a trick of the light, but you could swear he blushes a little as he mumbles, “I know who I want it to be, though.”

Your eyes widen and you lean up, pulling your legs back (ignoring the way his hands tense before letting them go as if he wants to hold on) so that you can kneel on them right next to him. “Who?”

“Not happening.”

“Bakugo,” you whine, drawing out the last syllable of his name.

“I’m not telling you, brat.”

You lean forward, prodding at his cheek. “Is it Mina?”

“No.”

“Jirou?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“Kirishima?”

Bakugo growls out your name, a warning, but you don’t pull away, getting even closer until you’re practically draped over him.

“Todoroki?”

He grabs you, whipping towards you as his arms fly up to wrap around your waist and yank you off him, tossing you back to your side of the couch as you shriek in laughter. He’d never hurt you, you know, and roughhousing like this is hardly new in your friendship; plus, well, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been hoping to feel his big, warm hands like this. Despite all his surprises tonight, he’s still all too predictable, and you’d seen this coming a mile away.

What you don’t see coming is him pausing, braced with one arm against the couch all too close to you, holding his torso over you with his head right above yours. And he stares, those crimson eyes unreadable with an expression you’ve never seen before, locked entirely on you.

You can feel his chest rising and falling steadily against yours, and your own eyes are drawn to where his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly. You’re frozen, unable to move though you’d hardly want to anyway, and it hits you like a brick what he’s really been saying the whole night.

You open your mouth to speak, but then the hazy tension is shattered by the shrill sound of his phone.

Bakugo lunges away, pulls back with inhuman werewolf speed, grabbing his phone as he leaps to his feet. “‘S my mom, sundown’s soon, I have to go.”

“Wait, Bakugo—”

“See ya tomorrow, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, already half out the door.

“Katsuki,” you try, desperate, and it makes him freeze.

The door is open, his knuckles are pale with how tight he’s gripping the knob, but as much as you’ve tried it’s not enough. He’s gone without another word.

You don’t get to sleep that night.

It’s dumb; he’ll lecture you in the morning as he tells you all about his perfect amazing werewolf destined—that was what he’d called it, right? You prefer soulmate. Mate is a wolf thing anyway—who he’s spending all night with, running around in the forest howling at the moon and making out or whatever.

You stay out in the den, curled up on the couch with a blanket draped around you, ice cream in your lap, and an old movie playing that you’re not really listening to because you’ve been too wrapped up in your own head.

For an instant, you’d been so sure. A mere moment of absolute certainty that he was just as in love with you as you are him, that your oblivious pining for years was actually reciprocated. In the hours since he’d pinned you to the couch, you’d convinced yourself otherwise.

Imagine your surprise when there’s a frantic knocking at your door.

It startles you, making you jump about ten feet up in the air, and you freeze on the couch with wide eyes and a gaping mouth staring directly at the solid wood that seems to be shaking in its hinges. You’re halfway to casting a protection charm when a familiar gruff voice shouts your name from outside.

“I know you’re awake, I can hear you in there! Open the damn door!”

You glance at the time to find that it’s just under fifteen minutes to midnight. Awfully soon for him to be done, but you rise from your spot on the couch with the blanket still wrapped around your shoulders and move to let Bakugo in.

“Coming,” you say, not bothering to be loud because you know he can hear even the shifting of your clothes beneath the blanket.

He looks downright feral when you open the door, panting slightly, hair mussed up, eyes wild. But when he sees you, they light up, happy and excited like a damn puppy.

“Are you drunk?”

“Uh… kinda?”

“...Magical bullshit?”

He nods, a rough toss of his head to affirm. “Ancient rituals. Tipsy’s more accurate, if anything. Figured out who my destined is.”

“And you came to me? Shouldn’t you be with your soulmate, then?”

Bakugo blinks, clearly stunned, barking out a burst of laughter before shaking his head. “You’re somethin’ dumbass.”

You go to respond, more than a little insulted because he’s been acting so fucking weird all day and he has the nerve to say you’re being dumb, but any retort is flung from your mind as he steps forward and puts his hands on your arms.

Leaning in until your noses are practically touching, he speaks. “It’s you. It’s always been you.”

“H—huh?” you stutter out, heart stopping and mind reeling with his words.

“I wanted it to be you. And it’s you.” His hands slide down your arms to meet yours. “You’re my destined.”

There’s so much more to say, so much to ask him, everything ranging from but I’m a witch, how is that possible to so we could have been fucking dating this whole time but he doesn’t let you speak, clearly too overjoyed and inebriated, and you’re not entirely opposed when he yanks you in with exactly the level of roughness you’d imagine from him and kisses you.

And finally, finally, after a decade and a half of wanting to (longer than you even knew what kissing was), you can melt into him.

You believe him then, not that you particularly doubted. It’s like his lips are the missing piece to a puzzle, one you’ve been looking for your whole life. He holds you up with ease, werewolf strength coming in handy, as one hand laces with your own and the other darts to the small of your back. He’d be holding you closer, but you’re literally as close as you could be, body curving against him as his taller form hunches over you.

He kisses you far more sweetly than you’d have expected; no teeth or tongue but still all passion, heavy palm and fingers splayed across your back as the other hand pulls you and grounds you. It’s heated and it makes you forget that you’re both standing in the middle of the open front door at midnight.

You’re both reluctant to break away, you can tell because you both linger a little, bodies frozen as the kiss is followed by one, two, three more just as feverish but decreasing in length. Then the two of you pull away for real (not by much, no, he’s holding you far too intensely for you to get far) and you stumble backwards pulling him by his shirt into your home. He gets the hint, following and shutting the door behind you but not letting either of you make it very far beyond.

“All right,” you say finally, breathless both from the kiss and from giddy laughter bubbling up within you, “all right, you’re my soulmate.”

Bakugo kisses you again.

[kurtstinypurse]

nothing but a senseless babble (klaine mini-fic)

so from how this week has gone, I ended up craving the chance to write something soft and fun. I have a list of the prompts I still haven’t filled, and I decided to use one of those and see what I could come up with! here’s a “ways to say I love you” mini-fic, prompted by @porcelainandthehobbit once upon a time.

also, thank you to the best @hippohead I know for convincing me this was worth writing & for always always being so so supportive :’) 

I hope a little escape of something sweet is even close to as good for some of you as it was for me <3

“No, Kurt. You’re going to have to cut it down. Your closet at school isn’t even going to fit half of what’s in that pile, and I am not giving you any room in mine.”

“But-”

“No!” Blaine interjects right away, exasperated at the sight of the veritable mountain of clothes in Kurt’s Bring to New York bin. By comparison, his Keep at Home box is sparse, Donate essentially empty. “Do you remember the tiny shoebox of a dorm room we’re going to be living in? Not to mention the sorry excuses of closets? We don’t have room.”

They’re going to be cramped enough as it is, inevitably at each other’s throats more often than not, being forced to share a space with room enough for two beds, two desks, and two dressers, but not much else. The model rooms on NYU’s housing website looked small enough, but Blaine has a suspicion the freshman dorms are even tinier, even older, even less comfortable.

But it’ll be worth it.

He really is looking forward to living with Kurt, to the endless opportunities for sleepovers and movie nights, study sessions and late night dance parties. They’re going to have exactly what they’ve more or less dreamed of for the better part of their friendship, since they were little kids, and it’s going to be awesome. He knows it.

But he isn’t looking forward to living with all of Kurt’s clothes and scarves and accessories and shoes and everything else.

“Yes,” Kurt huffs, folding his arms across his chest and lifting a petulant eyebrow in Blaine’s direction. “But I also remember that you didn’t exactly ‘cut down’ on any of your bowties when we packed your stuff.”

His voice is dripping with sarcasm, and then he uncrosses his arms to offer mocking air quotes to emphasize how ridiculous Blaine’s idea is - cut down? Yeah right.

It makes Blaine feel nothing but defensive, annoyance bubbling in his belly, magnified by the exhaustion from packing their stuff for the third day in a row, by his nerves about moving halfway across the country, by his fears of it all not working out how he’s hoped for so long.

Defending himself is easier than confronting all of that - and so he does.

“Bowties are tiny! Your clothes are-”

“Are you saying I’m large, Blaine?” 

“No! You’re perfectly in shape and you know it. I just meant-”

“Ooooh, you think I’m perfectly in shape?”

Kurt is fully taunting him now, grinning widely in that way where his eyes crinkle at the corners and his teeth barely peek out from the stretch of his lips, and it catches Blaine off guard, throws him for a loop as he realizes what he’s just said, too.

What it implies.

Blaine has noticed Kurt, obviously. He’s noticed him often, but of course he has - Blaine is gay, and Kurt is attractive and Kurt is right there, and it’s only natural.

He rarely lets himself acknowledge it in his own head, though, let alone out loud.

Let alone to Kurt.

“I- You-” Blaine stutters, gapes, finally manages to recover. “Stop being ridiculous, Kurt! You’re deflecting. Just- Cut your clothes down!”

“You love it,” Kurt insists, shoving the folded clothes between them to either side, scooting forward on the floor until they’re sitting right in front of each other, cross-legged, knees just shy of touching. “You love me.”

Of course he does. Of course he loves Kurt, loves how Kurt riles him up and makes him feel safe all at once, loves when they get like this and loves their comfortable silences, too, loves how his friendship with Kurt is everything and always has been everything, hopefully always will be.

But-

“No. You’re ridiculous, like I said.”

He isn’t ready to give it up.

“What- You don’t love me?” Kurt gasps dramatically, his hand thrown over his heart. “Your best friend of- god, nearly a decade? Your future roommate? Your-”

“Nope!” Blaine cuts in, biting back a grin, realizing he’s somehow become amused along the way instead of annoyed, feeling competitive now instead of irritated. “You’re ridiculous, and I hate you.”

Kurt narrows his eyes into a glare that usually sends a shiver down Blaine’s spine - but tonight, it only invigorates him, makes him want to dig into this deeper, see how far he can take it before one of them breaks.

Actually, before Kurt breaks. Because it won’t be Blaine.

Not tonight.

“You love me,” Kurt insists, his voice low, almost threatening, nearly chilling, and he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, nearly close enough for Blaine’s vision to blur as he attempts to hold eye contact. “Tell me you love me.”

He’s pulling out all the stops.

Almost all the stops.

“No.” 

Blaine stays steady, schooling his face into a neutral expression, but he knows what’s next. They’ve been here before, testing each other, rapidly approaching a stalemate. Over the years, it’s evolved from bickering over what game to play to this, something much more loaded, full of the unsaid and the unacknowledged, never referenced outside of these moments, quiet lines never crossed, boundaries never pushed past the point of no return. 

He isn’t sure why he still bothers standing his ground, still bothers trying, because if he makes it this far, there’s only one way it ever ends, time and time again.

There’s one more of Blaine’s buttons that Kurt knows exactly how to push, one more thing that Kurt always uses as a last resort to get his way.

It should be predictable. Blaine should be ready for it.

He should harness the telltale glint in Kurt’s eyes, use it to brace himself, but instead, it just makes him freeze.

It gets him every time. It works every time, this now isn’t any different.

Kurt rears back, and he pounces.

Blaine vaguely registers the sound of a yelp that he feels ripping through his own throat, but he’s too focused on falling backwards and not hitting his head against the hardwood floor to be embarrassed of or even control the noises he’s making. He manages to land instead on a rogue pile of Kurt’s clothes-

And then he’s laser focused on the feeling of Kurt on top of him, lording over him, his impossibly quick fingers tickling Blaine’s sides, making him squirm, thrash, defenseless - and making him laugh, too, deep from the pit of his belly, his body shaking with the force of it.

“Tell! Me!” Kurt insists in the midst of his own peals of laughter, and it’s like his hands are everywhere, up to Blaine’s armpits and back down again, over his stomach, his arms, his chest, hitting all of his most ticklish spots without giving a second for mercy. 

It’s funny, and it hurts, and Blaine feels utterly hysterical with the childishness of it all, with Kurt straddling him, above him, consuming him, stealing the breaths right out of his chest, overwhelming and overly stimulating and-

“Fine! F-Fine, okay, I-” 

He almost breaks - wants to break, to make it stop - but he can’t get enough of the words out to forfeit. 

“You what, Blaine? You what?” Kurt eggs him on with a grin, leaning in closer, lowering his body down nearer to Blaine’s, a mere inch or two away from holding him down completely. It gives him better leverage - Blaine can tell based on the way Kurt’s fingers speed up, dig deeper, and the determination in Kurt’s eyes, steel blue ferocity.

He’s entirely ruthless.

Blaine squirms, arms flailing in search of a chance to push Kurt off, not finding it, hands grasping in the air, at the clothes on the floor, at Kurt, in a desperate search for purchase, but he can’t find that, either.

There’s only one thing left to do, and he musters all the air in his lungs to do it.

“I love you!” he finally gasps out, voice shaking with uncontrollable laughs, feeling completely wild and unhinged. “I love you, please, I love you, I love you-”

His voice chokes, dies in his throat, cutting off his near-senseless babble of a repetition when his eyes meet Kurt’s, and he finds a sort of intensity he’s never seen before, not from Kurt, not directed at him.

They stop moving at the same time.

They stop laughing at the same time.

They stop breathing at the same time.

Kurt is raised up on his hands now, bracketing either side of Blaine’s head, and he’s staring down at Blaine with flushed cheeks, wide eyes, parted lips, hair mussed and messy, so devastatingly gorgeous and so magnetic in a way that’s startlingly new. 

Blaine feels flushed, hot with the culmination of every touch and every breath since his back landed against the floor, and he isn’t sure when it all changed. 

He isn’t sure when they went from the way they’ve always been to this.

He can’t move, can’t look away. In the past frozen moments he’s gotten lost in Kurt's eyes, and now he’s stuck there, swimming in the pools of blue and green and gray, all there is.

“I love you,” he whispers again, feeling like he’s saying it for the very first time, the words holding a different weight on his tongue and shaping differently in his mouth, too, in his chest, in his bloodstream.

But there’s nothing else to say.

Kurt’s elbows buckle, and his fingers twine for a desperate hold through Blaine’s hair, and they’re kissing.

They’re kissing.

It’s deep and it’s hungry right from the start, nothing like the few tentative kisses Blaine has shared with a few tentative crushes in the past, nothing like what he thought kissing Kurt would be like.

Because, yes, he’s thought of this. He’s caught himself staring at Kurt’s mouth before, watching as Kurt absentmindedly sucks at his bottom lip while he studies, watching as Kurt sips from his designated straw in the milkshakes they share at their favorite diner, watching as Kurt nibbles the chocolate off of his biscotti at the Lima Bean. And he’s caught his mind drifting there, too, when he’s laying in bed at night, wanting.

Wanting.

But Blaine has never identified it as anything but his curiosities latching themselves onto the person closest to him. He’s never considered that the low, twisting coil that forms in his belly when Kurt locks eyes with him across the choir room and makes him feel like he’s the only person in the building could mean something more. He’s never paid much mind to the lift of his heart when Kurt touches him, to the fact that they both always seek out little excuses to stay close and to hug and to brush and to lean, to the strangeness of these teasing tests that they give each other, to what it all points towards.

He’s never considered that the way Kurt is the first thing on his mind every morning and the last thing every night could mean something, either, but that’s because it’s just how it’s always been, from the time they were children.

But maybe wanting Kurt, needing Kurt, loving Kurt is just how it’s always been, too.

And that’s why it doesn’t feel like a first kiss - because it isn’t, not really. There’s no hesitation to it, no question in the movements of their mouths or their hands or their bodies.

The testing has already been done.

It makes it easy for Blaine to reach and to grab, one hand grasping Kurt’s hip, rubbing his thumb in insistent circles at his hip bone, through his shirt, the other sliding up Kurt’s chest slowly, coming to cup his face, holding him close, holding him right where he is. It makes it easy for Blaine to plunge into the depths of their kiss, working Kurt’s mouth open with his tongue and then inside, tasting, learning, searching, finding.

It makes it easy for Blaine to allow himself to feel, to revel in the swirls of heat that form under his skin and thrum there with an energy that becomes addictive right away, every nerve ending in his body alert, awake, responding to every part of Kurt, too.

When they finally come up for air, parting just enough to breathe again, their foreheads leaned together, Kurt’s body now settled fully against Blaine’s with a weight that soothes him and ignites him all at once, there’s no panic, no embarrassment, no apology, no takebacks.

No explanation, because there doesn’t need to be one.

The moment holds them tenderly, allows Blaine the opportunity to resurface, to come into his senses and into his body again, settling into this newly awakened iteration of himself and of them, but it doesn’t take long.

This is him. This is them. 

And of all the changes they’re about to face together, from moving halfway across the country to learning how to navigate a new city to leaving everything but each other behind, this feels like the easiest one, already perfectly known, perfectly understood, fully formed and solid and unshakeable.

It almost doesn’t feel like a change at all.

When Blaine’s eyes flutter open, he finds Kurt’s already open, gazing down at him with a fondness that makes his breath catch, so close that Blaine’s vision blurs all over again as he attempts to focus, but the circumstances are all different now, slow instead of fast, purposeful instead of hysterical, building something together full of meaning and gravity instead of butting heads just for the sake of it.

He wants to stay here forever, laying in the clutter of all Kurt’s belongings, anchored by the literal weight of Kurt on top of him and of the feelings inside of him, too, the ones he finally has a name for, all slotted into place. 

“I love you,” Kurt murmurs, and warmth blooms like flowers in Blaine’s chest, threading him into the garden of Kurt’s words and his touches and the tenderness in his eyes, each and every bit of them blossoms of meaning and of intention and possibility.

“I love you, too,” Blaine whispers, cranes his neck up just enough to kiss Kurt all over again, and it’s all they need.

They both know what it means.

[sparklingchan]

Chapter 1|| Stormbringer- Stray Kids Demigod AU

Pairing : Reader(fem.) X Felix

Word count : 2k+

Warnings : Profanity, descriptions of mythological monsters, monster killings, not edited.

Genre : Romance, Demigod AU, fluff, angst.

Description: Felix and you have your first encounter - but why did it have to be under life threatening circumstances?

A/N : I’m so sorry this chapter took so long skskskkksks ugh I’ve been having some personal issues as well as midterms. For those of you who waited, thank you!

Enjoy!

SERIES MASTERLIST ||  Click here for introduction to the story and glossary and here for the Stray Kids demigod diaries!

"So.. you are not allowed to use cellphones because it attracts deadly monsters?"

"Yes," you snicker at Zeus, "No thanks to you, dad."

Zeus - the king of all gods on Mount Olympus, the god of sky and lightning - sits on the couch beside you in a simple striped shirt and loose baggy jeans, his long hair tied in a braid. He doesn't look anything like a Greek God or a king, he doesn't look grand or royal or powerful. He sits on your couch with his legs crossed, back slouched - like a normal father of a normal twenty one year old.

He rolls his eyes at you, "Yeah, yeah, blame it on your poor, old dad. " he's immortal, by the way.

You grab a cookie from the plate your mom had put on the coffee table before driving to work. You're kind of glad she's not here to see Zeus - your mom and Zeus didn't exactly part on good terms. Of all the times you'd met your father, she's not been there to witness any of it, fortunately.

"What do you want, dad? I'm sure you're not here to eat cookies and talk about mortal technology with me. "

Zeus nods, sighing. The distressed expression clawing it's way back to his face. "When are you going back to the camp?" He asks.

"I was about to leave before you decided to show up. "

"And with who exactly?"

"Oh, with Minho."

Zeus runs his fingers through his flowing beard, "The Dionysus kid?"

You nod - yes, Minho's father is the Greek God of Wine and fertility but your friend's never been much too proud of it. So you know better than to add to his insecurities, even behind his back.

"Dad, can you please tell me what you're here for?" You insist, now slightly annoyed.

"Ah, fine, fine," he nods, frowning like a little kid, "I actually need your help, y/n. I cannot ask this of anyone but my own child, which is why I have come here."

It's normal for God's to let their demigod children do the bidding on their behalf - it's nothing surprising or new, but you're taken aback since you're father has never asked you to do anything for him before.

Before you can reply, he continues, "It's Poseidon, y/n. He's...He's been sick."

Poseidon? Sick? Isn't he an immortal God? How could he ever fall sick!

"He can just drink some nectar and ambrosia and he'll be as good as new, dad." You deadpan.

"No, not this time. Poseidon's trident is lost. Someone stole it, apparently. And the trident holds in all his power. He's weak without it, and with him gone it's hard to control what goes on in the Oceans. The monsters and demons and even the Nymphs are out of control. "

"I would be very grateful if you could do something about it, y/n. Tell your camp director about it and go on a quest with your demigod friends. Find the trident, please. We need it back or else the mortals as well as the demigods will not be safe anymore. "

As if they'd ever been, "Okay, fine..I'll put in a word at camp."

Just before Zeus speaks again, you hear the loud honk of a car outside your house. Minho.

"I have to go now, " you quickly grab your bags, "And dad?"

He stops munching on the cookies to look at you. "Please clean this place up and go back before mom comes home."

He winks at you as you close the door behind you, jogging to Minho's old Hyundai that stands near the side of the street.

He waves at you enthusiastically and you almost feel bad for your friend.

Oh, Minho, you’re not going to be happy with the news I have.

*

Halfway into the drive, you realise that you're not the only who has news - Minho too had information to share - more like rantings, but you liked to classify them as information.

"I fought with my parents again. " he sighs, his eyes focused on the road ahead, "They don't want me going back to camp every year. It scares them, y/n, can you believe it!"

Minho - unlike you - had never met his birth mother. He was adopted right from the hospital. Sadly, Dionysus visits him more often than he wishes he would.

"They're just worried because you keep getting yourself in trouble there. Try to keep calm, you'll do just fine." You mutter, shaking your leg, your mind running through numerous possibilities as to how you can break Poseidon's news to Minho.

"Well that's not all. So I fought with them and came to camp a month earlier. While I was out with the annoying Satyr, scouting for demigods, I found three more washed up on the shore of the beach where we first met you. They'd been attacked apparently, and we brought them to the camp and guess what, the youngest one is as old as you are! It's so fascinating for once to not have to deal with unruly teenagers."

You scoff, "First of all, the annoying Satyr has a name. He is called Eden. And second of all, how is it possible for demigods our age to make it this long without living behind a protective barrier?"

Minho shrugs, taking a sharp right to the road that leads home to Camp Levanter. "Beats me, y/n. They must have lived like nomads without anyone to protect them from the monsters, but I'm glad we found them. You'll like them too. The other boys love them."

You nod, not giving too much thought to a bunch of new demigods. You've been with demigods all your life so there's nothing to worry about. What you are worried about is Poseidon and his lost trident, because no matter what, this new development does put all mortals and half-bloods at risk.

"Um, Minho?" You start, playing with hem of your checkered shirt, "I might actually know why the new demigods were attacked by a sea monster- "

However before you can speak out the next word, your eyes land on a huge blue wave of water, as tall as a ten floored building, engulfing everything within it's vicinity. You see mortals run in alarm, screaming and crying. The cars rush away, trying to escape to a safer place. The earth vibrates beneath you, as if to warn about an approaching danger.

"What the hell is that!"

"It's a sea monster... a Cetus."

Minho slams on the accelerator, speeding away from the approaching sea monster. The camp is only a two minute drive from the highway you are on so if the Gods are kind enough, the both of you might just make it before the monster catches your scent. 

And if it does, then Minho and you are as good as dead.

"Can you see it, y/n?" Minho asks you in an urgent voice, his eyes fixed on the road ahead of him, "Do you think you could create lightning and kill that thing?"

You make the mistake of looking behind you, because as soon as you turn around, you see a gigantic dragon- like creature chasing close behind your car, baring it's fangs. Your blood turns cold.

"Minho, drive faster! I think it has smelt us!" You yell in panic, "We're not enough to defeat a sea monster; even with your vine growing power and my electrokinesis."

Minho does as he is told, driving the car faster than the mortals do in their stupid car races, his hands tightly gripping the handle and handsome features twisted in agony. 

You roll down the window and glance outside, estimating how much time you have to summon lightning before the monster catches upto your car.

Sucking in a deep breath, you pray to your father for help and thrust out your hand towards the sky, and see small electrical impulses begin at your fingertips. Rolling the window further down so as to be able to aim the lightning directly at the monster, you concentrate all your energy into your right hand. 

The lightning may not kill it, but it’ll surely slow it down.

Electric sparks cover your entire arm like it were some kind of jewelry. 

A deep breath, and you release.

“Its hurt,” you whisper as the monster stops on its tracks, its googly eyes closing as if in immense pain and in a spilt second, they open and stare right at you. The monster is angry. At you.

“Shit! Shit! Y/n!” Minho panics.

"Keep driving." You reassure Minho, "I'll slow it down."

You see dirty green scales of the monster when you glance at the rear view mirror and your immediate reaction is to grab your bow and arrows from the backseat of the car.

Minho nods and you position yourself such that only your arrow is pointed directly at the monster's direction while you squint one eye and careful peek out without showing too much of your face. Monsters have very good memory.

The monster hisses, his long, red tongue rolling out of his mouth as if in annoyance. The mortals do not bother coming in between your car and the Cetus - all thanks to the Mist. 

The Mist creates an illusion that hides any supernatural beings like monsters or titans or giants from the mortal's sight so it is safe to believe that the mortals are perceiving the Cetus as something as simple as a huge storm.

"It's coming closer." You warn Minho.

"I can't go faster than this! Has no one from the camp received any news of a sea monster coming out of the water and roaming out in the streets yet?" He yells back.

You stretch the bow string, the arrow aimed right between the monster's two hideous eyes.

"Stop! Y/n!" Minho suddenly says, slowing down a bit, staring at the rear view mirror, "There's something on the monster's head."

His words seem to fade away in the background as you see the monster's tail - resembling that of a fish - flying up behind him, and then thrashing hard against the concrete road. The ground shakes.

"I'm shooting." you mutter, "It's going to kill us all!"

"Y/n, no - don't."

"What! Why?"

You loosen the string and pull back the arrow, trusting Minho's judgement better than yours.

"Just trust me, okay?" Minho mutters, slowly pulling up by the sidewalk.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you quickly glance out the window.

"What the.."

You catch sight of a blonde man, probably only as tall as Minho, standing on top of the monster's head and thrusting his shining bronze sword right into the Monster's forehead.

The man looks in your direction, as if he’s known you all along and nods, with what you perceive to be a smile on his lips.

"Shoot now, y/n." Minho says from beside you.

You immediately act on it, stretching the string tighter, the arrow pointed at the ugly monster that now cries desperately. You let go of the string and the arrow cuts through the air and stabs the Cetus right at his neck.

A loud, thundering wail leaves it's mouth and then it disappears into millions of dust particles, on it's way to the depths of Tartarus ; the underground prison of all monsters.

"That's Felix, y/n." Minho says, unlocking the doors with a slight grin on his face. He looks proud. "He's one of the new demigods at the camp."

The said man quickly jogs up to your car, panting and huffing, and knocks at your window.

"Hey, can I have a ride back home, Minho?" He smiles, "And you must be y/n, right?"

And you sink back into your seat as you see his entire form up close.

Beautiful. Ethereal. And every other synonym of those words in the English dictionary fall weak if it ever comes to describing the man standing in front of you.

You don't even need to ask who his godly parent is because you already know now - Aphrodite, goddess of love, lust and beauty.

****

Taglist: @chogiwow​@ctrlaltfangirl​@blueprint-han​@whattaweeb​@bigskzz​@judewalid​@kpopssuregi​@crispy-chan​@cookielino​@persassystilinski​

Note: Please DM or send an ask if you wish to be added to the taglist!

[itmighthavebeenintentional]

We've Got Tonight - Ch 2

Summary: “It’s not your job to do this, Andy. You make people happy. I was in the diner all of ten minutes, and you knew exactly how to get me to smile. You do normal, real things like garden and sing karaoke. Saving the world is my job, Sam’s job. Sometimes it’s even Cas’s job, but it’s not yours.”

Inspired by Bob Seger’s “We’ve Got Tonight”

Warnings: Major Character Death, More Major Character Deaths (sort of?), higher than show level violence, blood, light smutting, language, demons, apocalypse, inferred suicide, cult activity.

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT PROCEED

Author’s Note: This story is set hazily around season 8. Just squint a little, and it’ll settle in somewhere. I wrote this story after certain big revelations in the show, but before other big ones; you’ll most likely be able to tell which. I play with time a bit in the story itself, so if things seem out of order, they are. Hopefully, by the end, all the pieces will fit together.

What the hell, let’s give it a shot.

Image and major edits by the incomparable @there-must-be-a-lock . Heavy editing and cheering by @thoughtslikeaminefield . Thank you both so much.

This is the longest chapter, but it's worth it, I promise.

Word Count: Ch 2 - 2952

In case you missed it: Chapter 1 ItMightHaveBeenintentional’s Masterlist

...

We've Got Tonight

Chapter 2

Clutching the strap of her backpack in a death grip, Andy silently crosses the landing. She places her foot on the top stair just as Dean rounds the corner from the hallway below her, both hands fisted in his hair. Even from this distance she can read the lines of tension in his shoulders. Her stomach twists, nausea and joy warring at the sight of him, and she can’t decide if she should turn and sprint for the door or throw herself at him and admit absolutely every foolish thing she’s done.

No. No, not foolish. She’s saving the world. That’s only a little stupid. She’s saving Cas and Sam. That’s good. She’s saving Dean.

That’s non-negotiable.

Then her weight settles on her foot, and the goddamned step creaks. Dean’s eyes snap to hers. For one hopeful moment, relief and genuine happiness flood his expression, and he smiles. The unclouded light shining from his face scraps any thoughts she has of bolting, and Andy makes it halfway down the steps before she’s engulfed in his arms.

He embraces her fiercely, and Andy allows herself a couple of seconds of peace and comfort, of the sense that she’s somehow home even though she’s only known him for a few weeks. Then the overwhelming realization of everything she’s signed away comes crashing down, closing her throat, choking off her air, and suddenly even the heat and safety radiating from Dean into her very bones isn't enough to ward off the chill of dread.

But she’s doing this to save him, to save Sam, to save...everyone. So, really, she’s not losing anything. If you save something, it’s not lost, so, really, she’s not losing anything.

Right?

Then her face is trapped between his hands, his face inches away, his eyes boring into hers with that burning intensity. The lies evaporate on her tongue, and she wracks her brain. What was she supposed to tell him? She has to say it before he starts questioning her, or she’ll blurt out every single thing she swore she wouldn’t.

“Are you okay? Where the hell were you? Was it those anti-Jesus freaks? How did you get away?”

What? Oh, yeah. The cultists. The whole reason she has a lovely new scar on her left arm and she met the Winchesters in the first place. The source of all their current troubles. Well, the main source, aside from her blood. Yeah, that would have been a good cover story, too.

Shit.

“Andy?”

“I’m fine, Dean,” she manages, thankful at how little her voice shakes. She puts forth the effort of the ages and extricates herself from his grip, an act she recognizes as necessary while regretting it all the same. “I’m sorry I scared you. I had a lead, and I had to leave right away. They were really twitchy when I first contacted them, and I thought they might take off if I waited too long or tried to take anyone else, and by the time I realized I’d lost my phone it was too late to come back.”

Anger and disbelief seep into his expression, tainting the relief that animated him only moments before. “Okay, first of all, we’re going to have a long, detailed talk about taking off on your own for any reason without backup, much less chasing your own leads, because no. Just no. Second, what the hell? Did all phones between here and wherever the hell you went just vanish?”

“You programmed your numbers into my cell, but I never memorized them. I didn’t have any way to contact you once I got there, and-”

“And you couldn’t leave a damn note?!”

Deep breath. Keep steady.

“Look, I’m really wrecked, Dean, it was a long drive, and it ended up a bust. The guy never showed. I’m dying for a shower and some food. You can interrogate me all you want, but can we not do it right here, right now?”

She pushes past him, brushing him off in a way she’s never done before, but if he keeps gazing into her soul with those jade laser beams of his, she’s going to lose every ounce of self-control. Her fingers tremble with strain, and she clutches her bag tighter, determined to hold herself together for his sake.

She only gets a couple of seconds of reprieve, though, just barely making it off the staircase. He catches up with her as she passes the map table, aiming for escape through the library, and he snatches her elbow. His grip is harsh as he pulls her around to face him, and her fingers fumble at the fierce heat behind his eyes. Her backpack drops, spilling its contents on the floor.

Her stomach bottoms out. She immediately tries to crouch down, to stuff her papers and books back in before Dean can see them, but his grip tightens on her arm, and he forces her back up to meet his eyes.

“You don’t get to disappear for two and a half days and then just-”

“Andy!”

Oh, thank god for Sam.

Andy takes advantage of Dean’s surprise to pull out of his grasp, but before she can bend down, she’s engulfed in a second, longer set of arms that feels almost as much like home as his brother’s.

God, what has she done? She really is going to lose everything. But this has to be worth it. Saving them is worth it, she knows it is. It’s going to be okay.

“Andy, are you okay? Where were you?” Sam is still in his concerned phase, and she’d like to make her exit to gather her thoughts before he hits Dean’s level of suspiciously pissed. She knows of no force in Heaven or Hell that can withstand the combined onslaught of Dean’s anger and Sam’s lectures.

“She says she found a lead,” Dean cuts in before she can try to explain herself. He’s definitely on the outer edges of pissed, and that’s fine. She can handle pissed, she just has to figure out what to do before he reaches volcanic levels of anger.

She drops down before anyone else can stop her and starts shoveling handfuls of papers in her bag. She needs to get them out of sight. She should have burned them, why didn’t she burn them, god if Sam sees some of it, he’ll know what she did without her having said a word to him, and -

“Andy, what the hell is this?”

Dean’s voice has dropped to a low, measured growl, and her eyes slide shut in dismay.

Don’t admit to anything, you don’t know what he found, just -

“You said you lost your phone, and now it falls out of your damned bag? You’re lying to me? Why-”

“Maybe because of this,” Sam cuts in, and she hears a rustle of papers from her other side, and she swears that it’s the loudest sound she’s heard in her entire life. It doesn’t matter which of her papers or which book Sam is showing his brother. They are all equally damning, and she really should have known better than to think she could get away with this plan.

“I had to do something. We were running out of time, so I made a decision while I still could.”

She’s impressed and surprised at the steadiness in her voice, the actual conviction. She is equally surprised to find herself standing when she opens her eyes, looking down at two of the most important people in the world, one of whom is regarding her with dismayed shock, and the other…

Her stomach wars with her brain; rational thought says the logical response to someone glaring at her with as much venom as Dean is packing is to run. Her stomach, on the other hand, is fully in favor of ejecting all contents in sheer terror. Somehow, she manages to shove down both impulses and stand her ground.

There’s a long moment where it seems like the whole bunker, the whole world, holds its breath, waiting for something to snap the tension. To Andy’s astonishment, Sam breaks in before Dean’s temper can explode.

“Tell me you didn’t. After everything we’ve told you, everything you know about us and our history, you called a crossroads demon? Where did you even find the summoning spell?”

She turns incredulous eyes on the younger Winchester. “Sam. I...really, Sam? When I asked to help, you put me on research. I didn't know where to look, and you gave me a stack of books, most of which had some variation of that or a similar spell in it. You gave me access to one of the world’s biggest fix-its, and you didn’t think I would do something with that?”

Sam opens his mouth, his face set with stubborn indignity, but he falls silent as Dean stands abruptly. He stalks past Andy, his silence far more worrisome than any shouting or lecturing could ever be. He stops at the bottom of the library steps, gripping the back of his neck like he’d rather have his fingers wrapped around something’s throat, and he stands like that for what feels like forever.

“I made a deal. To save you, Sam, Cas. Everyone. I had to do it.” Andy can’t stop the words that tumble from her trembling lips, and she can only be thankful that she doesn’t have to see Dean’s face as she says them. She should never have tried to lie to him, to them both, but especially not to him. Not after all the lies he’s had to live through.

“I won’t apologize. I found a way out of the end of the world when we had no other options, and I took it.”

Dean stands stiffly, unmoving as she confesses to his back. Sam wisely keeps his mouth shut, kneeling on the floor to look through Andy’s papers, avoiding looking at either of them. The gravid silence that hangs over the room is broken only by the thudding of her heart and the crinkle of pages as Sam rifles through her backpack’s spilled contents.

“Explain. Now.” Dean’s words are quiet and caustic, their bitterness cutting Andy straight to the heart.

This isn’t what she wanted, but their time is too short to try to work everything out. There will be nothing like a fairy tale ending for them, so she forces herself to say what she can. There are still some details she doesn’t want to tell him; if he knew everything, he could keep her here, keep her from going back to finish the deal, and she absolutely cannot let that happen.

“I did what you and Sam do every day. I did my research, I made a plan, and I faced the monsters. I made a choice, Dean.” She only just keeps the notes of desperation from creeping into her voice, though it’s a near thing.

He moves as she speaks, turning back to the table, his face inscrutable as he leans down to grip the back of one of the chairs. He holds onto it as if it’s the only thing keeping him together, and she feels a ridiculous stab of sympathy for the piece of furniture that’s bound to come to a bad end.

“And you think sneaking around, lying to all of us, and making a deal with a crossroads demon is going to magically fix everything?”

He’s too calm, too quiet. The chair creaks ominously under his fingers, and Andy takes a hasty step back. Sam rises, his forehead wrinkled with concern as he takes a step towards the table.

“Andy, just tell us the details,” Sam interjects, his tone low and placating, like he’s trying to calm a cornered animal. “We can figure out a way to get you out of the deal. What did the demon you met with look like? Did they tell you their name? How much time do you have?”

“God DAMN IT!”

Dean slings the chair to the side, and it skates over the floor, shredding through her papers before slamming into a support pillar with a deafening metallic clang and careening across the room. Sam steps up protectively next to her, his hands half-raised like he can’t decide if he should try to talk his brother down or block more pieces of flying furniture.

“Why, Andy? Why didn’t you just wait for Sam or Cas to find something? We were looking!”

“There was no time left, Dean!” She knows there aren’t enough words in any language to explain her decision in a way that will satisfy him. It doesn’t matter to him that she’s one of the sources of all their troubles right now, or that she is an adult who was perfectly capable of making decisions about her life long before the Wonderful Winchesters and their guardian angel rode into town.

“We had days left, at best! I don’t want this anymore than you did, but it was my blood that started this whole disaster, my blood the cult needs to finish everything, literally everything! It’s my blood that’s the solution to this whole shitshow, and that means it’s my mess to clean up. I learned that much from you and Sam, at least! You clean up the messes you make, whether you meant to make them or not. You, of all people, could at least try to understand!”

“Understand what?! That you think selling your soul will actually fix anything?”

Dean closes the distance between them, his fingers digging hard into her shoulders, knocking Sam to the side as he disregards all concepts of personal space.

“Selling your soul never solves a damned thing! And don’t you think for one second I’m gonna let you go through with this deal.”

“I’ve already gone through with it, I signed the contract. You can’t stop it, and you can’t change it. He said you’d try, and-”

“Wait a minute, ‘he’?” Sam cuts in, and Dean’s face flushes a deeper shade of crimson.

“You didn’t. Tell me you didn’t make a deal with that son of a bitch Crowley.”

Fuck.

“I made a call,” Andy finally answers. “I was either going to hell and taking the rest of the world with me, or I was going by myself and keeping the rest of you safe.”

“You had no right-”

“To make decisions about my life? The hell I don’t, it’s my life, Dean! Who gave you the right-”

“We were supposed to be in it together, you and me! It’s not just your life, and you damned well know it!”

The three of them stand frozen, the words echoing faintly through the enormous room. Sam gaping at the two of them, Dean grips Andy like he thinks she’s about to bolt, and Andy tries desperately to remember why she’s not simply throwing herself into Dean’s arms.

Castiel, with his impeccable timing, chooses this moment to enter the bunker. The creaking door catches their attention, and all eyes turn to Cas, who stands on the landing, surveying the tableau of chaos beneath him. His eyebrows lower, his consternation clear.

“Andrea?” Cas’s voice is confused but gentle as he cautiously descends the stairs. She knows from the stories Sam and Dean have told her that her friend has a fearsome warrior side that makes even the worst demons think twice before approaching, but she’s never seen a hint of that part of him.

She’s seen this man soberly examining a bowl of Cheetos, questioning their attractiveness to large, feline predators; she has a difficult time picturing him facing down the worst monsters the universe has to offer, and yet, according to Sam and Dean, he does so without hesitation on a regular basis.

Which is why his cautious approach should really worry her.

“Dean, is it really necessary to hold on to Andrea quite that hard? You’re bound to leave bruises, and she doesn’t seem to be attempting to leave.”

Dean releases Andy abruptly. His face is dark and lined with the effort of repressing his rage, and he storms past the bewildered angel. He stops at the bottom of the stairs, hand on the banister, legs flexing and trembling as if he has to force himself to stop even that long. Sam takes a step towards him, but Cas holds out a restraining hand, and for once, Sam complies, though he looks seconds away from protesting.

“You should’ve waited, Andy. You should’ve talked to me, given me a chance to find something, anything but this. I can’t...I’m done. I’m fucking done.”

He climbs the stairs three furious steps at a time and is out the door before anyone can think of how to stop him, leaving Andy lost in the remnants of his anger and her shoulders aching more from the loss of his grip than the roughness of it. Her throat is burning, her jaw aching with strain, but her eyes are dry.

There was no other way, there just wasn’t. I did the right thing, and damn Dean to Hell if he thinks I’m going to cry for that.

“Andrea?”

Cas reaches out and steadies Andy, his grasp gentle and comforting in stark contrast to Dean’s furious hold. He considers her for a long moment before finally speaking.

“Our lack of information regarding your whereabouts was quite troubling, and we assumed the worst.”

“Maybe not the absolute worst,” Sam sighs, leaning wearily against the table. He scrubs his hands over several days’ worth of stubble before rubbing his eyes. When he speaks again, he can’t even meet her eyes, and an acidic splinter of shame twists in her stomach.

“You really should have waited, Andy.” ...

Chapter 3

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

Okay, so the brain’s a bit caught up in one of my other writing projects, but I refuse to abandon this entirely. So I’m gonna just power through this and then get back to Vibing™. 

Actually, it’s kinda cute that the hero Thirteen is introduced in chapter thirteen. I wonder if Hori did that on purpose or just managed it as a fun coincidence. 

[No. 13 - Rescue Training]

So we start off on Wednesday morning (which would be April 12th/11th) at 7:35 AM. There’s a hostage situation by a villain who looks like a goddamned pokemon (my brain has made the ‘buff ditto’ comparison and now I am Shook) who is, according to Mt. Lady, a serial robber and murderer by the name of Habit Headgear. Kamui Woods, whose wood bindings have apparently been broken trying and failing to contain the guy, is tossed back on the ground as he notes the villain is strong and a quick strategist.

Seems like she and Kamui Woods have teamed up together! Or at least responded to the same villain attack again. Also, who’s this dude?

Random Mii Blaster escaped from Smash Ultimate and is now in BNHA, when will the madness end. 

Naturally, the hostages are not handling this situation super well, though the crowds watching don’t seem as worried? IDK hard to tell from far away. The buff ditto villain uses double team, no wait I mean agility, actually his high speed to show how outclasses the heroes on the scene are. 

As he announces his plans to escape, we see All Might rushing in loud enough for the stomps to be heard. He announces his arrival mere moments before he fucking snaps the villain’s neck with a handchop - or, well, not really, but damn that had to be a hard hit. All Might also managed to grab the family out of harm’s way in the process, announcing that he’s on his morning commute. 

The crowds cheer for All Might, while Mt. Lady and Kamui Woods are somewhat put out - they appreciate the help, but also worry All Might will put them out of business.

(I guess this is where all those fics that do bring up how All Might cuts down the hero job market on his own pull from? Or just coincidence, who knows.)

The police thank All Might with salutes for the help, and All Might give his own quick responding salute before he declares he needs to head off so he won’t be late. Of course, that’s when he hears about a hit-and-run (that super hearing lol) and takes off, just so coincidentally in the direction of said trouble. Despite that fact that he needs to get to work. This man.

While he’s in the air, he considers how his speed has dropped, and that he’s been weakening since he passed on his power. Not to mention that after his rescue of Izuku and Katsuki from the sludge villain, his maximum time went down. Which is not at all referencing him about to overdo it again and lose more time, no siree.

We descend into a flashback to right where we left off after the battle trial, with All Might confronting Izuku about telling Katsuki about (some of) One For All. All Might is surprised and a bit nervous? Worried? Or that bead of sweat in the flashback might be from the strain of holding the form when he’s about to run out of time. 

In any case, Izuku in the past apologizes and says he hasn’t even told his mom, but that he had to tell Katsuki something… All Might determines this might be a consequence of not being explicit enough about keeping the secret, since Izuku isn’t the type to brag or boast. Also calls Izuku too sincere, hah, isn’t that the truth. All Might says it’s lucky Katsuki thought he was joking, so All Might can forgive the slip this time, but that Izuku cannot tell another soul. 

(Stares at this.) (Looks at recent manga events.) Whelp.

Anyways, All Might catches the car of the hit and run guy (and man, that face the dude is making) while thinking about how, suitable successor or not, Izuku’s still just fifteen, so All Might had to make things clear. Of course, then All Might overhears about a hostage crisis the next town over, and, well.

We transition to right after lunch (12:50) with Aizawa announcing that that day’s hero training plans - something supervised by himself, All Might, and one other teacher. Izuku realizes it has to be a special class, while Sero raises his hand to ask what they’re doing. Aziawa’s reply?

I swear this is exactly the same shit All Might did before the battle trial, gimme a second-

Bahahahaha incredible. Though then again, I wonder if those are security cards keys to certain locations. It would make sense, though then I wonder how Katsuki and Izuku were able to get into Training Ground Beta without one… hrm…

Anyways! Kaminari, Ashido, and Kirishima end up talking about it; Kaminari says it’ll be a rough day, with Ashido pumped as she agrees, and Kirishima also pumped as he says that it’s what being a hero is all about. Asui notes that she’ll be right as home in a flood. Aizawa silences them with a glare, saying he’s not done. He presses the button to unveil the costume lockers, telling the class that it’s their choice whether or not to wear their costumes, since some of them are ill-suited for this kind of activity.

Oh boy, will this put you on the path to the hero you’ll be come… but not for the reasons you think, buddy. The joke here is trauma.

It seems like most of the class does still choose to go in costume, barring Izuku - whose costume is still being repaired after the damage done to it in battle training. However, he still has his belt, gloves, knee pads, and mouth guard (with the mouth guard being new) on him. 

Golly, I wonder why your costume needed to be replaced, Izuku.

(thonk.)

Also Tenya jkfdkjdgfkj Oh My God You Dramatic Egg. He’s got a whistle and he’s directing the class to line up by ID number so they can fill the seats in an orderly fashion. 

I’m love this boy so much. And it’s even funnier because the bus has an open layout, meaning it was pointless. Poor Tenya is in Despair, with Ashido teasing him for his efforts being wasted. 

Savage. But yeah, looks like it’s Sato, Izuku, Asui, Kirishima, Tenya, Ashido, Aoyama, and Kaminari in the front seats. And Asui - sorry, Tsuyu - just outright says she says what’s on her mind, which startles Izuku since he didn’t expect her to talk to him I guess? She tells Izuku to call her Tsuyu, then turns to him and just says his quirk resembles All Might’s. 

Izuku, being the sincere boy he is, stutters and stumbles out something that almost looks like a denial, before Kirishima, bless his himbo soul, points out that All Might doesn’t get hurt by his own quirk, so they’re already different in that way. He then goes on to state that that kind of simple, strength enhancing quirk is awesome and that a lot of cool stuff can be done with it. 

Kirishima then goes on to show off his hardening, saying that it’s good for a fight, but otherwise boring. Midoriya ‘holy fuck I love quirks’ Izuku thinks otherwise, actually sparkling as he proclaims the quirk to be neat and more than enough for going pro. Kaminari notes that heroes also have to worry about popular appeal. Aoyama says his navel laser quirk is both strong and cool, and thus perfect for heroics. Ashido then kneecaps him by adding in that that’s as long as he doesn’t blow up his own stomach.

Ashido’s Savagery: The Sequel.

In the next panel, we see Katsuki’s been paying attention to this convo, which has me wondering if this is when he was first starting to piece together OFA from Izuku’s mention of ‘getting the quirk from someone else’ and ‘like All Might’s’. However, when he is brought up in the conversation (alongside Shouto) as examples of ‘strong and cool quirks’, he feigns disinterest and looks away, trying to play cool.

(Also, he doesn’t seem to have his gauntlets on him here, though I know he’s brought one with him as seen a bit later. I wonder whether he chose to leave one of them behind or if he might have been restricted from bringing more than one by Aizawa… interesting either way.)

Tsuyu then brings up how Katsuki being so unhinged means he’ll never be popular. Katsuki, naturally, takes offence and slams his hands on the rail in front of him, demanding to know what she just said. Tsuyu sticks out her tongue as she points at him making her point. Poor Jirou, having to be seated next to someone so loud.

And the moment literally the whole discord was waiting for, Kaminari’s brutal vocabulary takedown of Katsuki, something cut entirely from the anime. Friendly reminder that Kaminari is, in fact, a major lit nerd! He’s Not Dumb! Stop Making Him Dumb In Fics! He not only has the most verbose vocabulary in the class that isn’t from the rich kids (and in some ways is even more so), he also has Katsuki absolutely pegged despite only knowing him for a few days. He Earned His UA Spot.

While Katsuki snaps back at Kaminari, Izuku is hunched over in disbelief that Katsuki’s the one getting bullied for once, but he supposes that that’s UA for you…

To the side, Yaomomo declares the conversation vulgar, while Ochako is laughing and saying it’s fun. Offscreen, I’m assuming that it’s Kaminari mock-marvelling at how he didn’t think Katsuki’s mouth could get any fouler. 

The last panel on the page is Aizawa interrupting them to announce that they’ve arrived at the training grounds, and to look sharp. The whole class (I guess?) snaps to attention.

And that’s the halfway point, so I will leave the USJ proper for next time! This has been a Savage Mina and Smart Denki appreciation post, so appreciate them, or else.

[ididntneedanewfandom]

Continuing my collaboration with @paraniva-art​ for BakuDeku Winter Week...

We did Sweaters on day 1, Sick on day 2, and now Ice Skates for day 3...

_____

"Never?"

"Never."

Katsuki frowns. He's pretty sure he remembers a couple of school trips to the ice rink in their elementary school days, so what the hell?

"I didn't go to those," Deku says in a strangely blank voice when Katsuki reminds him of that. He gestures at the mat between them. "Are we going again? Aizawa-sensei is starting to give us the stink eye."

Katsuki glances toward their teacher, and sure enough he's staring in their direction. They're the only ones not actively engaged in sparring, so of course they stand out. He nods and gestures for Deku to come at him. Sparring with no quirks is no fun if you ask him. He understands the reasoning behind the activity, understands that there'll be times when he won't be able to use his quirk, either because the setting doesn't allow it or because a villain neutralizes him in a similar way Aizawa can do, but that doesn't mean he has to like it.

At least he gets to spar with Deku. These days, he doesn't mind so much being paired with him.

All right, he doesn't mind at all. He actually looks forward to it.

Not that Deku seems to realize as much. He's as oblivious as ever, and Katsuki is not exactly subtle to begin with. Just about all the class has caught on by now, if he's to believe the amused looks he gets from his band of idiots... and the rather alarmed ones Deku's friends give him on the regular. A couple of weeks ago, IcyHot even warned him that a toe out of line would get him a fist in the face.

Of course Katsuki replied with a fist of his own in the idiot's face. Which turned into an all out brawl. Which is how Katsuki ended up paired with Deku today, much to IcyHot's chagrin. Why he thinks it's up to him to 'protect' Deku, Katsuki has no idea. It's not like he has his sights set on Deku--Katsuki knows; he asked, point blank, and IcyHot was startled enough that he actually replied. And then immediately turned the question back on Katsuki, and took his lack of reply as an answer. He didn't look all that surprised, which annoyed the hell out of Katsuki.

By now, Katsuki is sort of despairing Deku will ever get a clue. Maybe it's time to up the ante.

"Why didn't you go to the ice rink outings, then?" he asks in between not-so-easily parried punches, going back to the topic at hand. He's not even sure how they started talking about ice skating, but now he really wants an answer.

"My mom didn't think it'd be a great idea," Deku mumbles. "You know, sharp blades, slippery surfaces, classmates who sort of pushed me around..."

Katsuki's stomach twists unpleasantly in a way he's learned to recognize as guilt.

"She didn't let you come because of me," he says blankly. "Because she thought I'd get you hurt."

Deku shrugs a bit and opens his mouth--to defend his mother or Katsuki, it's hard to tell--but just then Aizawa calls out the end of class. They follow the rest of their peers to the changing rooms, and Katsuki watches, a little annoyed, as IcyHot gets Deku's attention and makes him smile.

Katsuki wants to punch the idiot again, but he does not follow through. For one thing, it'd annoy Deku, which at this point is counter-productive. And for the other...

The beginning of a plan is forming in his mind, and, sadly enough, he'll need IcyHot's cooperation to make it work. Not his <i>help</i>, he doesn't need anyone's help, just... an assist. Or maybe even two.

Much to the general shock of the class, he volunteers to make food for everyone that night. The look IcyHot gives him when he sees the cold soba is somewhere between appreciation and suspicion, like he thinks Katsuki poisoned the food or something. It's almost entertaining.

Katsuki talks to Yaoyorozu first. He knows everyone in the class has asked something from her at one point or another in the past couple of years, and he was sort of proud that he'd never used the girl in that way, but apparently he's no better than everyone else. The thought displeases him, and he's probably grumpier than he should be when he asks his favor, but she doesn't bat an eyelash and merely smiles.

"Of course," she says. "What sizes do you need?"

She ends up making the ones for Deku bright red; Katsuki's are black with an orange X on the back.

Next, Katsuki has to talk to IcyHot. Which involves explaining to him why he wants this favor. Which means admitting he was an asshole when he was younger--but that's nothing new he supposes. Which also means owing the idiot a favor in return... and he collects right away.

"I want a promise," IcyHot says, arms crossed and looking much too serious for comfort.

"What?" Katsuki grunts.

He expects a ridiculous request, because even if they're--mostly--friends these days, or at the very least friendly, riling each other up is too much fun to forego altogether. Instead, he gets a very quiet, "Promise this isn't just a game for you."

Katsuki feels his cheeks turning bright red. He glares that much harder. "What the fuck kind of games do you think I play?"

"The kind that could get my friends hurt," IcyHot says coolly. "Both of them."

Katsuki sputters. Could the idiot be even more embarrassing?

"I'm not playing," he answers in the end, a barely audible mutter, because IcyHot is still waiting for an answer.

IcyHot just nods.

"All right, then. Is six o'clock early enough?"

Katsuki would have preferred earlier, but it'll have to do. He nods. And, very quietly, very grudgingly, mumbles. "Thanks, Todoroki."

The idiot nods again, and smiles a bit when he says, "Good luck."

*

Six o'clock.

In the morning.

On a Sunday.

Izuku groans and glares in the direction of his door.

His door on which someone, some very inconsiderate someone, is currently knocking insistently.

The glare doesn't stop the knocking, so he ends up getting up and going to open, so he can glare at--

"Kacchan?" falls from his lips when he sees who's standing there. He's not sure he isn't still dreaming. "Is something wrong?"

Kacchan looks at him as he opens his mouth, then hurriedly looks away.

"Clothes," he mutters. "I mean, get dressed. Warm clothes. Then come downstairs."

"Huh?" Izuku says, because he's still half asleep and none of this makes a lot of sense.

"Just do it already, Deku," Kacchan scowls at him, but just for the time of a blink before looking away again. "I'll be waiting."

He grabs the door and closes it, leaving Izuku so confused that, for a moment, he just stares at the closed door. Curiosity soon pushes him into action.

"Clothes," he says, remembering what Kacchan said, then looks at himself.

Oh.

He's just wearing boxers, and nothing else. And they're his loose sleeping boxers, so they're riding pretty low on his hips.

He got too hot last night, an effect of his new quirk, and he stripped out of his t-shirt. And apparently opened the door practically naked. No wonder Kacchan wouldn't look at him, he thinks, blushing in delayed embarrassment.

He's still a little flustered when he comes down, but Kacchan doesn't say anything other than a quick, "Come on," before he leads the way outside. Izuku follows, and is taken by such a feeling of deja vu that he has to ask, "We're not going to Ground Beta, are we?"

He knows they're not, because they're headed toward the woods, but it sounds better than asking if Kacchan plans to beat him up again.

Kacchan just rolls his eyes at him and doesn't actually answer.

Five minutes later, they get to a clearing in the woods where they stop to spar, sometimes, when they're out running. To be honest, Izuku loves those morning runs, when he gets to have Kacchan for himself for a little while.

There'll be no sparring today, though. The entire clearing glimmers in the early sunlight, and when Izuku lets out a quiet, "Oh," his breath mists up in front of his face. A sheet of ice covers the clearing, as smooth as--

Realization hits like a blast from Kacchan's quirk.

As smooth as an ice rink.

"Here," Kacchan says, pulling a pair of bright red ice skates from the backpack Izuku wondered about earlier. "Put these on."

When Izuku takes them, he draws a second pair from the bag, black, those ones, and sits on a fallen log to put them on.

"Kacchan?" Izuku murmurs, holding the skates to his chest. "What's going on?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm gonna teach you to ice skate."

Izuku blinks repeatedly and just stares at him.

"You... why?"

"It's my fault you never learned, isn't it?" Kacchan mutters. "So, I'm correcting that."

He's done putting his skates on but Izuku still hasn't moved. Rolling his eyes, Kacchan stands and makes Izuku sit on the log he just vacated. Crouching in front of him, he pulls his shoes off and takes the skates from him, sliding them on his feet. Izuku has a flashback to years and years and years ago, when they were small, when Izuku didn't know how to tie his shoes yet--when he didn't know he didn't have a quirk--and Kacchan sometimes helped him. That was one reason out of many why Kacchan became Izuku's favorite person then.

And now...

Now...

"Kacchan," he says again, even more quietly, and waits for crimson eyes to lock with his before he swallows the lump in his throat and goes on. "Is this a date?"

There's a part of him, a teeny, tiny part of him that expects to get punched in the nose for daring to ask such a silly question.

But there's a not so tiny part of him that's filled with hope, because Kacchan has been... different, lately. And while Izuku didn't want to make too much out of it, he's wondering if maybe, just maybe...

"God, do you have to be so clueless?" Kacchan mutters; his cheeks are scarlet.

"That's not a 'no,'" Izuku points out, unable to suppress a smile.

"So?" Kacchan tries to scowl at him, but mostly he looks worried. "What are you gonna do if it is?"

Rather than answering, Izuku grabs Kacchan's collar in one hand and draws him forward even as he leans down. Their mouths meet halfway for something that's barely a kiss at all, just lips on lips, and yet when they pull back after a few seconds, they're both blushing brightly. A moment passes in silence, their eyes still locked, their lips slowly curling into smiles.

"Come on," Kacchan says as he stands. "The ice won't last all day."

He offers his hand to Izuku, palm up. Izuku takes it and holds on tight.

[serendipityunho]

Fire & Flames

× genre: smut, fluff, college au × pairing: badboy!Hongjoong x Reader (fem.) × word count: 5.9k × warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, fingering, handjob, oral, clit play, slight choking, pull-out method, hand kink, praising, explicit sex

× synopsis:You never expected to fall into the arms of the notorious bad boy of the campus, Hongjoong, after getting locked out. But yet again, he never expected for you to end up in his arms either. 

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

‘Come to the party’, they said. 

‘It’ll be fun’, they said.

If only you knew you’d be walking home barefoot, holding your heels in your hands in this cold midnight. To begin with, the party wasn’t even that fun. People got high, people got fucked, people got knocked out. When was there anything new?

It was like any other college party, but with more beer kegs this time and Wooyoung didn’t get too wasted, which was an achievement. You never knew how people didn’t get so bored after the first hour of being surrounded by sweaty drunk bodies and actually not worry about being in the danger zone of being vomited on. 

Your best friend had already fucked off with some guy at the party, leaving you with the set of apartment keys since you had dropped them down the drain a few days ago. She was already too wasted to give you a lift home before tending to her businesses with whoever she caught, now you’re shivering down the street with your feet so numb you could barely feel the pain of the gravel stabbing at the bottom of your feet.

The apartment building wasn’t too far from sight, it was only a minute walk before you found yourself standing at the entrance with the flashlight on your phone on as you fumbled with the keys. Wait.

“Fuck!” You wish you were seeing things, anything other than the fact that you were holding the wrong set of keys. None of these belonged to you. 

Your best friend had given you the wrong keys, and you were too homesick to even bother checking them before leaving the party. Great. Now you were locked outside with a nearly dead phone and frozen feet. 

“Come on, come on, pick up” It felt like forever before the robotic voice answered, sending you straight to voicemail as you sighed in defeat. 

5%

You wouldn’t have found yourself in this predicament if only you had listened to yourself and stayed home instead of allowing yourself to be dragged to that god awful party. You couldn’t even think properly with your constant shivering as you sink to the floor, ass getting cold from the pavement. 

There was always Jongho who didn’t live too far. No, he’s probably at a boxing match tonight. Or Yeosang. Eh, probably in a chicken coma with his girlfriend. 

Another sigh left your lips, hot breath evaporating into the cold air as you hugged yourself not that it would make a difference to your warmth. You didn’t want to go back to that party, not when people were finally starting to throw up on each other and couples occupying the bedrooms. 

Everything but the 7/11 beside the abandoned warehouse, and the bar was open, all other warm and cozy places were closed dark. The 7/11 looked empty, and that was the problem. You didn’t want the cashier’s eyes on you the entire night suspecting you of stealing shit. The bar it is.

You lift yourself off the cold steps of your apartment building before patting whatever residue was on your dress. A grimacing look took over as you looked down at your heels. You really didn’t want to wear it again unless you wished for your feet to stop working the next day. At least look decent before entering.

With every step, your feet felt like they were on complete fire. You were bound to collapse at any given moment. 

Just. A. Few. More. Steps.

The neon sign beamed brightly, almost making your eyes ache at the sight as you pushed through the entrance. A subtle buzz surrounded you almost instantly as your eyes land on the pool table then onto the bar with only a few drinking.

It was definitely much warmer than you expected it to be. But it was more than enough. 

“First time at a bar?” Your eyes stopped looking around and shot to the bartender in front of you, wiping the surface with a cloth before swinging it over his shoulder.

“It’s that obvious huh?” You place your clutch onto the counter before taking a seat on the stool, sighing in relief as your sore feet take another break from walking in heels.

“Very. Would you like a drink?” 

“Um, a martini would be nice, thanks” Money shouldn’t be used recreationally right now. But, a drink was needed in order to keep your cool.

“So what’s a girl like you doing here so late?” The bartender didn’t look up as he started mixing your drink, ice shackling inside the shaker.

“I got locked out because my roommate gave me the wrong keys and now she won’t pick up” 

“Have you tried calling her again?”

“No, my phone is about to die” The glass filled with the beverage pouring out from its shaker as the bartender pushed the drink towards you.

“There’s a payphone over there if you have any change left” 

“Yeah, if I had change left, thanks though” 

Another customer appeared in the corner of your eye, sitting down just one seat away from you. You could sense a burning gaze in the side of your head as you kept looking down, stirring your drink with the little toothpick you got with the olive.

“What made you come here?” From the very first word spoken, you immediately knew who it was. 

“That’s none of your concern, Hongjoong” You were met with a well-known smirk the moment you turned your body to the blonde-haired man.

You weren’t surprised to find Hongjoong at a place like this. It fits in well with his rough agenda anyways. That is, being the boy most parents warned their daughters about and the boy many others either despised out of jealousy from stealing the attention of girls they tried too hard to get.

“It’s quite concerning to see you at a bar so late. Did something happen that finally drove you out of the house?” Hongjoong chuckled, tilting his head to the side as he smirked.

“The only thing that drove me out of the house was a promise that my roommate would do all the housework for a week if I went to this party with her” 

“But?”

“But this idiot gave me the wrong keys when I left and now I’m locked out with a dead phone while she’s off fucking some random guy” You scoffed, downing the rest of your drink before fidgeting with your fingers.

“Do you want to use my phone?” Hongjoong reaches for his back pocket, slinging out his black phone before unlocking it.

“No point, she hasn’t picked up any of the other fifty calls I left her” A flash of empathy washed over Hongjoong’s face as he remained silent, nodding his head subtly as you turned back around.

Maybe if you didn’t spend the most of your money on this martini, you’d be able to snag a cheap motel room for the night. Or perhaps some slippers instead of torturing yourself in these heels.

“You could... stay at my place if you’d like? Just until your friend comes back of course” Those were the words you never expected to leave Hongjoong’s mouth. 

“I don’t want to trouble you” 

“Well, where else are you going to go?” Nowhere. 

You were quite surprised that Hongjoong, out of everyone, had offered you a place to stay for the night. Many would think he’d just snicker and walk away from the looks of him. But on this night, he doesn’t look that uptight as usual.

“You’re right. I guess it’s better than nowhere” You sighed before reaching for your clutch, pulling out a few crumpled pieces of cash to leave at the bar.

“C’mon, you look tired as fuck” That was nice to know. 

You followed Hongjoong out the bar, standing in front of what seems to be his motorcycle. It was sleek and black, you saw him ride it to campus every day, zooming out the parking lot in a flash as people admired behind their books.

“Thanks” You take the helmet from Hongjoong’s hand before slipping it over your head, adjusting it before swinging a leg over the motorcycle.

“Hold on tightly” Hongjoong revved the engine as you snaked your arms around his waist.

“You trust yourself without a helmet?” 

“Do you trust me?” Hongjoong turned his head slightly, letting you catch a glimpse of his eyes. 

“Well, I’m going home with you aren’t I?” You wrap your arms tighter around his waist, lifting your feet off the ground as he does the same.

It felt like your heart was about to jump out of your chest at any moment as the wheels on Hongjoong’s motorcycle started moving. You were immediately hit with the cold air once again, goosebumps rising along your arm as you clutched tighter onto Hongjoong.

The neons lights of shops along the street passed by in a blur as Hongjoong sped down the street. It didn’t feel as cold as before, maybe because you were literally hugging someone.

Hongjoong slows down at a set of traffic lights, making your grip on his abdomen loosen as your heart calms down from the adrenaline. Hongjoong’s icy blonde hair glistened under the light, it looked miraculously soft and silky. You lowkey just wanted to run your hands through them.

“Scared?” Hongjoong kept his eyes on the road as he spoke up.

“What makes you think that?”

“You’re hugging me like a koala”

“Okay, maybe a little bit” To be completely honest, you were scared for him too. Riding this death machine without a helmet is ballsy. 

“You can trust me” Now that was another thing you’ve never expected to hear from him.

You were already so used to the cold, your skin felt numb as you grew used to the cold despite Hongjoong lending you his leather jacket halfway through the route. You felt kind of bad seeing goosebumps on Hongjoong’s arms as he endured the cold. 

“You don’t mind loose clothing, do you?” Hongjoong unlocked the door to his apartment, dropping the keys onto the kitchen counter before letting you in.

“Uh, no, anything would do. Thanks” You stepped into the apartment, it was neat and clean with a few pizza boxes on the counter. 

“Are you hungry?” Hongjoong’s face lit up as he pulled onto the fridge door, scouring at what he could find. 

“No, I’ve lost my appetite for the night already” With your sense of smell ruined by the thick aroma of alcohol and whatever at the party, you couldn’t bare to eat without wanting to throw up. 

“Here, you can take this room. And, uh, here,” Hongjoong lead you to a room with a bed freshly made as if no one had slept in it before, handing you what seems to be one of his shirts and some pants. It wasn’t like they were too oversized so you didn’t need to worry. “, the bathroom is right there by the way”. 

“Goodnight, Hongjoong” You flashed a small smile as Hongjoong scratched the back of his head, avoiding much eye contact before inching backwards out the door.

“Y-Yeah, goodnight” You stifled a chuckle before turning back around as the door closed behind Hongjoong. 

The room wasn’t too big or too small. It was just perfect. It was masculine enough not to mistake it for a woman’s room. Maybe this was someone else’s room. It wasn’t a new discussion around campus that Hongjoong had a roommate. But where was he?

It was a relief to finally strip off the party clothes, well, dress. The soft material of Hongjoong’s shirt made you feel at home, a subtle masculine scent lingered on it as you held the collar to your nose, sniffing it before stretching your arms out. A man who smelt nice was always attractive.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was a pleasant sleep before you woke up in a cold layer of sweat, gasping for air as you shot up from the bed. You weren’t so sure if you were still dreaming or not, maybe both. 

The only thing you could hear over the ringing in your ear was the sound of your heart pumping loudly out of your chest as you focus on your surroundings. Almost everything was completely black other than the window with the moonlight shining through. 

It wasn’t uncommon for such sleepless nights like this, you’ve had them since you were a child after some rather unfortunate events. Some you could never seem to forget. Since then, you’ve learnt to cope with it. 

It wasn’t much of a big deal as you grew older, nothing an ice-cold glass of water couldn’t fix. That and probably a few episodes of TV that you’d forget in the morning.

You felt gross just sitting in the bed, quite sorry for whoever actually sleeps on here. The red numbers from across the room beamed 3:29am as your feet touched the ground before stepping towards the door.

Hongjoong was probably already dead asleep at this time of night. You’ve never met anyone who sleeps with their door open before. Making your way down the corridor, the wooden floor creaks subtly beneath you as your eyes lingered around the dark space. 

What you didn’t expect to see in the kitchen was Hongjoong himself, making you halt in your spot as he looks up from the counter. Arms rested against the counter with a glass of water in his hands.

“Why are you awake?” Hongjoong’s voice was raspy, probably just woke up not too long ago before you.

“I had a nightmare” You hesitantly make your way into the kitchen, fidgeting with your fingers as Hongjoong hops off the stool.

“Do you usually have nightmares that wake you up?” 

“Only when I don’t have my pillow, childish right?” It was another thing that helped you cope with nightmares. The long pillow that your parents had given you before they moved away helped majorly. You couldn’t have a proper goodnight’s sleep without it.

“Not at all. Actually, I can’t sleep without my pillow either” Who would’ve thought this baddie was actually a softie?

“So, how come you’re awake?” Your eyes flickered from cabinet to cabinet, questioning in your head which one the glasses were in.

“I was thinking” You were about to take your chances, opening up a cabinet only for a glass filled with water enters your view. You gladly take the glass from Hongjoong’s hand as you turned back around, facing him entirely as he maintained a distance.

“You must be thinking about something deep to stay up this late” Your dry throat felt relief after the first sip of water, finally, your body felt like it wasn’t on fire anymore.

“Would you say BuzzFeed quizzes are deep?” Hongjoong chuckled, leaning back onto the counter with his arms crossed. 

“What kind of person stays up at three in the morning thinking about BuzzFeed quizzes?” 

“Me, surprisingly, San too” 

“San, the rich kid, San?” 

“That’s the one” 

By now your glass was half empty, rubbing your thumbs across the glass as you take a seat next to Hongjoong. Your eyes glued onto the scenery outside of the window, moon hiding behind the trees of the small forest next to Hongjoong’s apartment building. 

“How are you not tired?” Even you were tired and you were barely awake for more than five minutes.

“I’m used to getting calls from my drunk friends at this time telling me to pick them up. It’s kind of like a subconscious alarm clock now” Hongjoong slips around the counter, inching back towards the corridor.

“How fun” 

“It’s going to be hard for you to fall asleep, isn’t it?” Hongjoong flashed you a concerning look before leaning forward with his hands pressed against the edge of the counter.

“I normally end up pulling all-nighters when this shit happens” Your finger swipes along the edge of the glass as you make yourself comfortable in your seat, accepting your fate for the night.

“I know I’m no special pillow, but perhaps, I could help?” Hongjoong scratched the back of his head, cocking a brow before pushing himself off the counter.

“What, you want to hold me to sleep? Is that what you’re saying?” It was sweet, really. Just a surprising thoughtful gesture you never expected.

“No- maybe- yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying”

You found it quite charming that Hongjoong had offered you such redemption from tired eyes in the morning. With no further words, you hopped off your stool and brushed passed Hongjoong with him following closely behind. 

The bed didn’t feel icky anymore the moment you touched it again, lying on your side as you wait for Hongjoong. You didn’t see him come in but you knew once the side of the bed dipped and a warmth covered your back. 

“Wake me up if I start snoring”

“You snore?”

“I don’t know, that’s why you need to tell me”

A soft chuckle issues from behind, feeling the wave of Hongjoong’s breath against the back of your neck. You could tell he was hesitant of actually holding you with his hand lingering over your waist. Softly grabbing his hand, you snake his arm around you, holding his hand in yours as you let him get comfortable.

“Can you sleep like this?” With Hongjoong hugging you like this, it wouldn’t take more than a blink of an eye to fall right back asleep.

“Can you?” He did say he needed his own pillow to be able to sleep too. 

“Only if you don’t move too much” You could feel your eyes shutting close as Hongjoong started playing with your hair, growing more comfortable in your presence. 

You never knew how much you enjoyed the feeling of someone playing with your hair until now. The way Hongjoong’s fingers tangled in your hair as his fingertips gently massaged your scalp calmed you, it was like a silent lullaby putting you to sleep.

“This is so much better than a pillow” You murmured, flipping onto your other side to face Hongjoong. His eyes were droopy, close to shutting as he rests his hand at the back of your head. 

“I’m glad” 

“You don’t sound so tired” 

“Because I’m not” Hongjoong chuckles, drawing little circles on your back as you subtly snuggle closer, lifting your face slightly to see him better. 

“It’ll be weird if one of us is awake” You could see the corners of Hongjoong’s lips curve upwards into a soft smile, making you do the same as your fingers trace his jaw.

“Sorry, but I have no more sleeping pills” 

“You need to get tired somehow” By now, your face was just as close to his as your body was against his body. 

“What do you suggest I do?” Hongjoong had stopped drawing his little circles on your back, smoothing his hand over to your waist before rubbing his thumb along the exposed skin his shirt had uncovered. 

At this distance, Hongjoong could probably hear the sound of your heart beating like crazy in your chest. Your hand had trailed down from his neck to his chest, hand cupping over his heart as your eyes flickered up to his. 

“Me” Hongjoong couldn’t mutter another word as your lips locked onto his, kissing him passionately as your arm snaked around his neck.

Hongjoong kissed you back just as hungrily, hand caressing your waist as they moved down to your hips and pushing you onto your back against the bed. Your tongue swiped across Hongjoong’s bottom lip before biting it softly, earning a vivid smirk against the kiss. 

Your legs wrap around Hongjoong’s torso as he pushed his body between your legs, swivelling his hips against yours with the noticeable tent rubbing against your aching heat. You couldn’t help but moan against Hongjoong’s lips as his hands slide under your, or should you say, his shirt, roaming every inch of your skin.

“You look so good in my clothes” Hongjoong growled against your lips before trailing his kisses down your neck, harshly sucking on the skin as he hikes up the shirt right above your breasts. 

“I look good in everything” Your fingers run along the skin of Hongjoong’s waist, hiking his shirt up before letting him pull it over his head. 

“You’re not wrong” A small gasp left your lips as Hongjoong takes a breast into his mouth with his hand cupping the other, squeezing it gently as you play with the hair at the back of his head. 

“Mhm” Your hips grind upwards against his hard-on, desperate for some friction against your throbbing clit and dripping wet cunt. 

You couldn’t help but grip his hair tighter as Hongjoong swirls his tongue around your nipple, sucking on your breast as his hand caresses your waist before hooking under the waistband of your pants. Suddenly, you didn’t feel the need to sleep.

Your legs slide up and down against Hongjoong’s sides before lifting your hips, letting Hongjoong cascade your pants down, throwing it onto the floor as his lips smother your stomach in kisses. His warm breath scattered over your skin as Hongjoong trails his wet kisses down to the waistband of your panties, fingers teasing your inner thighs with harsh squeezes.

Your face scrunches in desperation as Hongjoong pulls your panties down, licking your skin gently before kissing just above your clit, making you clench around nothing yet gushing over the slightest touches. Hongjoong eyes you from below with a devilish smirk, pushing your legs further apart before hooking his arms underneath.

“You look even better like this” Your legs twitched slightly as Hongjoong kisses your inner thighs, blowing softly against your sopping wet pussy, sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your hips subconsciously buck up towards his face.

“You’re such a tease” You moaned out, arms stretching above your head as Hongjoong kisses your clit before lapping his tongue at it.

“I know” A breathy moan left your lips as Hongjoong sucked on your clit, swirling his tongue around the bud of nerves as his fingers slip between your folds. 

It was quite a feeling seeing Hongjoong lapping away at your pussy with the glimpse of moonlight shining through the window, highlighting his back as his arms flexed with each movement. You couldn’t hold back another moan as Hongjoong slipped a finger into you, pumping slowly before adding another.

Your face furrowed in pleasure with Hongjoong’s eyes piercing at you from below, lips attached to your clit as he hooked his fingers deep in you. If breathing wasn’t difficult before, it definitely was now.

“Fuck, right there” Hongjoong’s tongue worked faster, fingers coating in your arousal as Hongjoong peppers sloppy kisses all around before reaching up for your lips.

Your knees bent instantly as Hongjoong buried his fingers deeper in you, pumping faster until you could hear the subtle squelches of your juices against his fingers. His teeth clash with yours as your lips hungrily meet each other, moving in sync with your arms pulling him closer.

It felt like a film of buzzing sensations had just washed over your body with each pump growing faster. Hongjoong’s palm rubbed over your clit, making you moan against his lips. Your lips hovered over Hongjoong’s, mouth wide open as Hongjoong’s hand worked faster, fingers slipping out and smearing your juices over your clit before rubbing it.

“Shit- fuck, Hongjoongohmygod” Your abdomen tensed hard as you nerves spark with each rub, close to emitting a firework in the pits of your stomach as Hongjoong’s fingers circle at your clit.

“You like that?” The whisper against your ear made you moan a soft ‘yes’ as Hongjoong’s face dips into your neck, kissing your jawline as you pull on his hair.

“Oh mmphhhfuck” It was only a matter of seconds before you had felt an explosion of bliss triggered by the pace at which Hongjoong was circling at your clit, making your legs tremble as they stayed opened by Hongjoong’s hand firmly planted against your thigh. 

Your brows furrow deeply, jaw clenched as Hongjoong smears your release on his fingers again before bringing them up to your lips, letting you take them into your mouth and swirling your tongue around his fingers making sure to keep your eyes locked on his. A groan escapes from his lips as he admires you from above, lips brushing against yours as he rubs his legs against yours.

“You want more?”

“Please” You bring your knee up to his crotch, feeling the hardened length over his sweatpants before rubbing your knee against it subtly.

“Fuuck” Hongjoong swiftly pecks your lips before standing on his knees, tugging his sweatpants down before throwing it off the bed, leaving him in his boxers.

The moonlight highlighted the crevasses on Hongjoong’s body, from the lining of his back to the lining of his abs. He looks tremendously good at this angle, making you lick your lips in anticipation before standing on your own knees, palming Hongjoong’s hard cock over his boxers.

Hongjoong cups both sides of your face, pulling you closer for a hungry kiss as a hand flies up over his, kissing him back just as passionate. You could feel his cock twitch under the material of his boxers, waiting to be held and clenched around.

Your palm rubs against his clothed dick, making him moan as he bit down on your bottom lip. Hongjoong’s hips bucked forward against your hand, rolling it subtly with the movements of your hand.

Your tongues lapped together as Hongjoong pulled you closer by the waist, cupping your ass before giving it a squeeze. Your head tilts as Hongjoong smothers your jaw in soft kisses before trailing them back down to your neck, making you moan a soft ‘fuck’ as you tug at his boxers, letting his cock spring free as you pulled them down.

“There’s a lot of things I could’ve done to sleep,” Hongjoong runs his hand through his hair, eyeing you down as you lower yourself down on him with a hand wrapped around his dick “, but I never expected this”. 

“Are you telling me you don’t want this?” Your tongue licked a stripe from the base of Hongjoong’s dick to the tip, letting the tip of your tongue sit on his slit as your hand caressed the rest of his dick.

Hongjoong throws his head back with a groan before taking a hold of your hair between his fingers. His face scrunches in pleasure as your lips wrap around his dick, keeping eye contact as your head bops back and forth, swirling your tongue around the base of his cock throbbing in your mouth.

“Mhm fuck-” A breathy moan fell between Hongjoong’s parted lips, brows furrowed deeply as his thighs tremble at the feeling of you slobbering on his dick.

The grip on your hair tightens, slightly stinging as Hongjoong rocked his hips subtly against your mouth. His abdomen tensed hard as a rock the moment you took his length deeper, letting it hit the back of your throat before pumping the rest of what you couldn’t reach with your hand.

You could taste the precum spewing from his dick as your wetness felt like it was about to drip from your pussy. Hongjoong shot you a daring look as he admired you from above, mouth gaping as broken moans fell from his lips.

Your mouth comes off his dick with a pop as you continue to pump his length, running a hand up from Hongjoong’s abs to his chest only to have Hongjoong grab your wrist, spinning you around as you fell on your knees and hands. You smirked as your head turned to the side, seeing Hongjoong caress your ass cheek with both hands before spreading them apart.

“So beautiful” Your back dipped deeper as you push your ass back, letting the tip of Hongjoong’s dick poke at your entrance as he slides it up and down your slit, coating it in your wetness as you crave the sensation.

It was almost a feeling you quite missed as Hongjoong pushed his dick into your hole, stretching it out with a moan coming from the both of you as you take in his length. You almost forgot how good it felt to have someone bury their cock deep in you before rolling their hips. Hongjoong just brought that sensation back to your memory.

“Fuck, Hongjoong” With your knees digging deep into the mattress and arms stretched far above you, Hongjoong grips your hips, squeezing them before rolling his hips into you, just pushing his dick into you deeper than before. 

You run a hand through your hair, pushing it back as Hongjoong thrusts into you, starting slow as your breathing quickens with each hit into your body. You could feel Hongjoong leaning down, pushing your hair to one side before attacking your shoulder with sloppy kisses, hot breath fanning over your sensitive skin.

His hand remained on your hip, squeezing it still as the other travels up from your thigh to your breast, fondling it before reaching for your neck. A quiet moan left your lips as Hongjoong wraps his fingers around your neck, squeezing ever so gently as his thrusts grew faster, knocking the air out of your lungs. 

“Ohmygodnnghh-” It was a hoarse moan thanks to Hongjoong’s fingers pressing down on the sides of your neck as pleasure shoots through your body with each body lurching thrust. 

“You’re right,” Hongjoong plants a soft kiss behind your ear, still holding on to your neck as his hand on your hips moves between your legs, fingertips lingering along the skin before circling at your clit “, you do look good in everything, even with my fingers around your throat”.

“Maybe even better down my throat” You smirked, a devilish grin carving into your face as you turn around, pulling Hongjoong’s face down for a harsh kiss as he slaps his hips in you.

You couldn’t help but push your ass further back, letting Hongjoong slam his cock deeper and harder into you with each thrust. Your mind slowly thickens with lust and senseless thoughts as Hongjoong rubs your clit in pace with his thrusts, making your eyes roll to the back of your head as you grip the sheets tighter.

“Oh?” Hongjoong cocked a brow, smirking with you before flipping you on to your back, spitting at your pussy before sliding himself in again, thumb rubbing your clit as your legs wrap around his waist.

Your breasts bounce with each thrust knocking you up and down with pleasure and nerves buzzing in the pit of your stomach. You entwine your fingers with Hongjoong’s before dragging his hand over your stomach to your chest, grabbing your breast with his hand as the other rubs your clit. 

“Oh fuckkkk mhmm oh god” Hongjoong rolls your nipple between his fingers, squeezing your breast before sliding it back up to your neck, thumb swiping across your bottom lip, letting you softly kiss it before wrapping your lips around it. 

Your eyes only roll back further when Hongjoong quickens his pace, making you tighten your legs around his waist, trapping him as sounds of skin slapping against skin grows louder. Your back arches off the bed in response to Hongjoong grabbing both sides of your hips, rutting himself into you at a relentless speed. 

It was almost as if he was trying to dig deeper, thrusting harder into you as your jaw was left hanging, inaudible moans trying so hard to escape with each thrust sparking something new in your body. All rational thought flew out of your head as your mind was left on nothing but soaking in a puddle immense pleasure and bliss.

“Yesyes- oh fuck yes” Your face scrunches in pleasure as your brows furrowed deeply, cupping your breasts in your hands as you look down to Hongjoong pounding himself into you. 

Hongjoong’s jaw clenched hard, on the brink of breaking as he grunts through gritted teeth, slamming his hips faster into you with his hands keeping you in place. It felt like confetti exploding in the pit of your stomach with each thrust bringing you closer to a high much more than just confetti, nerves buzzing into a firework ready to combust at any given moment. 

“F-Faster mhmmfuckk” Hongjoong shoots you a glaring stare with his hooded eyes, smirking with his parted lips. 

Your legs couldn’t hold around Hongjoong anymore, sliding off like jelly as your toes curl with every passing second. And with each of those seconds, you could feel it coming, the way your heart threatened to jump out of your chest at any moment and the way your back arched with each static euphoria coursing through your veins ready for combustion.

“Yes! Yesyes oh god! Yes- mmphhhmmfuckk!” It felt like you’ve lasted forever until the ball of buzzing nerves in the pit of your stomach finally flooded throughout your body, filling every inch with nothing but toe-curling, eye-rolling blissful euphoria and pleasure. Hongjoong groaned as he felt your warm release around his cock, desperate to chase his own high while fucking you senseless. 

“Ohhhh god- fuckk” Your legs tremble as Hongjoong pulled out quickly, removing his hand from your hip to pump at his throbbing twitching cock above your stomach, gazing into your eyes before landing down for a kiss. 

“Mhmmfuck ohmygod-” Hongjoong groaned against your lips, body twitching as you felt his warm release spew onto your stomach, panting like crazy with each kiss stealing another breath of air. 

“All out, baby, all out” A hand cups one side of Hongjoong’s face as you wrapped your other hand around his cock, milking the rest of his high out as he heavily drops his head into your neck, panting as if it were his last. 

Hongjoong’s cock twitches in the palm of your hands, droplets of cum still dripping onto your stomach as his legs collapse. You smeared the rest of his cum over the tip of his cock, thumb swiping over the slit before Hongjoong lifts his face again.

“You’re fucking amazing” It was a mere whisper but you could hear him clearly over the pounding sounds of your heartbeats. 

“Clean me up before you go complimenting me” You swiftly steal a peck on Hongjoong’s lips before pressing your palm against Hongjoong’s chest, pushing him up onto his knees.

“How is this supposed to make me sleep when I just want more now?” Hongjoong yanks a few layers of tissues from the box on the bedside table, catching his releasing into the tissue before carefully trapping it with another layer of tissue.

“More? Oh god, you’re awake awake” You chuckle, running a hand through your hair as Hongjoong collapses on his back beside you.

“It was your idea” 

“But did it work though?”

“You mean, do I want to sleep now?”

“Yeah, do you?”

“With you? Definitely” Hongjoong opens his arms for you to snuggle closer, fingers drawing little shapes on your shoulder when you lay your head on his chest.

“Snnggff-” It was quite amusing how Hongjoong managed to hide his secret cheesy persona.

“Wait, I can’t. This is weird”

“What’s weird?” 

“This is Yunho’s bed”

_

Copyright © 2020 by serendipityunho All Rights Reserved

[levi-llama]

{Questions and Desires}

Jasper x Fem!OC x Alice / Part One:

Series Rating: Mature

Chapter Rating: Teen

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of Homophobia, Distress, (Probably Inaccurate) Depictions of Diabetes, (DM me if I missed any)

Word Count: 1,225

Chapter One:

<<<>>>

I walked out of my aunt’s small, worn down home. As the old, eggshell paint chips off the front door I shut behind myself, I feel the cold, humid air of the Olympic Peninsula fill my lungs. It’s a new place, a new school, and a new experience for me; I just hope I can positively adjust to my current surroundings.

You see, I came to Forks, Washington for a reason. My family’s gone to ruin, and I’ve come to my only safe haven in order to regain at least some of the general hope I used to have. My mother and her sister grew up here until her father passed away when she was young. My aunt, Winnie, still lives in this small town. What caused all of this, unfortunately, is how my parents kicked me out, their only child, for coming out. Though, I’ll leave it as that for now at least. In result, I officially decided to move forward, putting myself in some fresh scenery and living with an even more refreshing family member.

I arrived last night, but I was too exhausted to unpack, so this morning was a struggle to say the least. I was scrambling for clothes, throwing things out of my cardboard boxes, then shoving things back in when I found what I needed. I threw on my giant blue-green flannel, with a tight grey chamisal under. I hurriedly pushed my pale legs through my whitewash skinny jeans and laced up my black sneakers. Thankfully, my hair is a short ginger pixie-cut, so my lazy-ass didn’t have to worry about brushing my hair. I somehow remembered to grab my bag and started my mile walk to Forks High.

<<<>>>

First period started as soon as I walked through the doorway. I darted for the open seat, yet my US History teacher stopped me short. I was only a hair away from sitting in that safe, safe chair.

“Miss,” spoke loudly to get my attention and I froze in place, turning slowly to him with a sigh. “You’re the new student, correct?” I nodded hesitantly. “Why don’t you come up here and introduce yourself to your new classmates!” He seemed unnecessarily cheerful.

“Yea, uh, hi. Amelia Warren, Nice to meet you all,” I gave a small wave.

“Very nice! You can take a seat now.”

I continued back to the only open seat, the same seat in which I originally moved towards. It was the second to last row from the back of the classroom. I was sitting between a peer and the wall. This wasn’t an ordinary peer, though, this was the single most beautiful young man I have ever seen. His long, disheveled, golden hair strung down the sides of his head. It covered his gaze as he glanced up to me through his lashes, yet it didn’t cover enough to keep me from noticing. The whole hour went by insanely fast. I honestly couldn’t concentrate at all with the whole ‘game of tag’ my table mate and I were playing with our glances.

<<<>>>

The lunch bell just rang with a relieving, yet deafening sound after my first three, utterly exhausting, class periods. I ignore the long, crowded lunch lines and go straight to sitting down, alone, at an empty table in the back. I open up my backpack and pull out my sketch pad and a pencil. I lay them out, yet as soon as I place the tip of my pencil on the paper, I see, from the corner of my eye, a group of unbelievably gorgeous students walk by me. They all take a seat at the table in the furthermost corner, the table next to mine. I try not to stare as I snap myself out of my mysterious daze, now looking back down towards my sketchbook. As soon as I try to start doodling once more, I get distracted from the feeling of two sets of eyes lingering on me. I glance up, as inconspicuous as possible, only for my eyes to meet with an elegant, pixie like female, and that same stiff young man with golden hair from history class. I don’t know if it initially came to my attention from my sudden flustered state that was caused from the non-verbal encounter, or something else entirely, but at that moment, I could feel my head start to spin and my vision started to blur. I couldn’t see the rustling of the cafeteria crowds. I couldn’t hear the chattering and noises of the eating utensils clanking on the strong plastic trays. At that point I cursed under my breath as I finally realized: I forgot to take my insulin.

I’ve struggled with my Type 1 Diabetes since I was a child; I’ve forgotten my insulin before, yet I’ve had people to help me in these scenarios, people that knew how to handle these predicaments, but I didn’t know anyone in this scenario. I had no one that could help, none at all. No one near me knew of my issues, therefore I came to a conclusion. I decided I’d start my walk home, even if it meant I’d have to ditch on my first day of school, because the only option I could think of was heading home as soon as possible. I just had to get my, much needed, insulin shot.

I gathered my things and got up as carefully as could be in hopes that it’ll subdue my lightheadedness. Of course, lady luck still wasn’t on my side. I started to tip, yet I caught myself by leaning on the cream-colored, circular lunch table, and, quickly, regained my balance. I wobbled out the door, making sure not to trip on anything, and looking back once to confirm the feeling that the two were still watching me. They were.

I wandered through the crowded, echoing halls that, while in my dizzy state, seemed like a maze from a fun house. All the giggling, the muffled rattling, the sudden and slow movements occurring around me, and the colors in which started to blend together in a rainbow mush. I made my way to the clear, cool, and comforting front doors of the complex. I pushed it open with my weaker state as I mindfully felt the soothingly chilled metal bars on the glass doors. I feel the brisk breeze make its way through my nostrils as I inhale the crisp, yet humid, Washington air. I started my walk across the parking lot’s blacktop. The deep green grass looked as if it was slowly mending with the light cement sidewalks. The cars zoomed past, but they’re noises of the engine speeding up or slowing down just suddenly disappeared. I think I was about halfway home when my blood sugar seemed to have increased to, now, dangerously high levels. Just then, strength turned for the worst, and, to no one's surprise, lady luck abandoned me once again as I looked down to my phone, realizing that it was completely dead. I couldn’t call my aunt for help. I couldn’t call anyone for help. I was alone and lost. I was scared and confused. I was an idiot for forgetting such an important thing. But, sadly yet expectantly, then, before I could react, I fell to the ground unconscious.

<<<>>>

Part Two>>

[bakubitch-minusultra]

Not Alone: Chapter Ten

-> an apocalyptic series with bnha characters but without quirks because I'm the writer and i can do whatever the fuck i want :3 yo im so sorry for not posting this yesterday i had two softball games and when i got home i just wanted to relax so i hope this makes up for it <3

-> Word Count: 2.1k

-> Warnings: the infected, thas bout it lol

-> Taglist: @5sosfckss @laudthingcat @zphilophobiaz

Y/n woke up to a wolf paw in her face. Hades kicked slightly in his dream and scratched her cheek. She pushed it away and looked around. She was more comfortable than she had ever been, since before.

Jirou was passed out with her arms around Hades. He loved to snuggle when he slept. Y/n smiled, knowing that he was getting more comfortable in the new space.

The light of day was filtering in through the canvas of the tent. It was small and cozy in the tent and the air had grown stale with the three of them breathing in it.

She stretched and realized what she was wearing. It was a loose t-shirt with the word ‘hide’ on it, the shirt was black and too big for her. She was also wearing jeans with tears and holes on the knees. She felt a bit of a breeze in the back felt around her but to discover holes back there as well. She frowned. She needed her pants back.

“You’re finally up.”

Y/n turned around to see Bakugo smiling at her. He was beautiful. She couldn’t stop herself from gawking at him in his black t-shirt with a skull design and his dark gray sweatpants. His eyes met hers and he noticed the way her eyes traveled his body.

“How come you get pants with no holes?”

He laughed, “We only have so many clothes. The last trip to a mall was three years ago. We share everything.”

Y/n glanced at Mary who was snuggled against a guy holding the little brat, “Everything.”

He turned to see what Y/n was watching and he laughed again, “Not not everything. She’s just really friendly Y/n. She’s like that with everyone. But if you’re interest we have a few girls who’re single.”

“What?”

“If you’re interested.”

Y/n shook her head, “I don’t know what you mean.” Bakugo laughed at her. He was in on a joke that she was not.

He sighed, “So want to go over the map with me?”

“I told you last night, I don’t know maps. I know where I’ve been by remembering the woods.”

“What?”

Y/n pointed to the tent, “I need her to stay here and be protected. She’s sixteen. She’s lived a hard life.”

Bakugo made a face that made Y/n laugh, “Yeah I figured she was staying.”

“Her mom and aunt just died, Her other aunt was taken to the breeder farms.”

His red eyes sparkled, “She’s just our kind of girl then.”

She was confused by him, but she didn’t have time to figure him out. She couldn’t get the picture of him playing the guitar in the firelight out of her head. It was almost like there were two of him inside of his body. Sweet Bakugo and Business Bakugo.

Mary came over carrying the monster.

“Andy, what do you have to say to Y/n?”

The boy looked down at the ground and pouted, “Sorry.”

He fidgets with her blouse and looks up to meet Y/n’s frown with a smile.

“Okay thanks.” Bakugo and Mary laughed. “Mary, will you watch Jirou until I get back?”

She leaned up and hugged Y/n, “Be safe Y/n and hurry back.”

Y/n hugged her back. She still hugged like an iron rod. She noticed the waay Mary hugged like a person and she hugged like a robot. She hugged just like Mina and her heart hurt thinking about them.

She turned and opened the tent, “I’m leaving Jirou. You need to stay here and help out okay. They need the extra hands.”

Jirou woke up and instantly gave Y/n a snarl, “No. I’m coming with you.”

Y/n shook her head, “No you need to stay and hang with Mary. I’m taking Bakugo to the farmhouse. I’ll be back in a couple days.”

She layed back down, “Fine.”

Y/n looked at Hades, “You coming or staying?” He stretched out on the sleeping bags and snuggled into Jirou who laughed.

“He likes me better.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “Traitor. She zipped the tent back up and walked back to Bakugo, whose eyes sparkled in the morning light. “What?”

Bakugo shook his head, amused by Y/n for something, “You’re funny Y/n.”

Xxxx

The walk back down the mountain was less painful and considerably faster than the walk up. Her feet didn’t hurt and Bakugo kept a fast pace. Unlike Jirou, he never spoke.

When they made it back to the meeting tree, they both paused and listened. She led across the open field with a sprint. They made it to the edge of the field and crouched down to look for any signs of life in the driveway. The barn swung open and shut. They’re back. She knew that she sealed the barn door completely when she left. She could hear Bakugo’s breath on the back of her neck as she watched the house silently.

She turned and whispered, “Let me go look first.”

He shook his head and pointed to the barn door. She turned and looked again.

She almost jumped when she saw them. It felt as though they were watching her. As the barn door swung open and shut a pair of eyes watched from inside. Stains of bloody tears streaked the gaunt cheeks below.

Her stomach twists and turns and she backed up but Bakugo put his arm on her to stop her from running away,

“Stay still.” His words made her skin shiver, as his hot breath landed on the back of her neck. Y/n didn’t move. The barn door opened and closed several more times. Then suddenly it opened and the eyes were gone.

She looked up at the loft window to see the thin figure pass by it. The window overlooked the field perfectly. They would be seen. Suddenly she was on the ground, in the hay and wrapped up in Bakugo’s long body. He held her close to him.

The wind played with the hay around them, it whispered to them.

She could feel his heart beating against her chest. They were face to face but her eyes darted around them. She heard footsteps. She heard something else, it was the way an exhale sounded when your throat was a ragged mess.

The infected were near them. She wanted to pull her shirt over her face. She wanted to run. She needed her mask but she had left it behind. Another rule she had broken.

Bakugo stroked his thumb along the back of her neck, where his left hand lay. He was trying to calm her nerves, before she gave away our location. In the gusts of warm wind and the calm silence of the ragged exhales, she heard a sound she didn’t expect. It was the hollering of men and the high moans of the infected.

The footsteps left the hay around us. The moaning and ragged breath became harder to hear, as distance was put between them.

Bakugo whispered into her forehead, “Oh my fucking god.” They laid in silence for a moment. He peeked his up to look around but she pulled him back down.

“One more minute.” He frowned but as she spoke the barn door closed several times hard. A raucous noise filled the air, different types of commotion began after it. “We need to leave now.” She whispered into his throat.

He pulled back a bit and looked at her, almost looking through her with his intensely red eyes. He tilted her chin with his free hand and lightly feathered his lips against mine. His kiss wasn’t intense like Kirishima’s was or soft like Mary’s. It was somewhere in the middle and filled with more of everything. He kissed beside her mouth and whispered into her cheek, “We’re going to crawl from here and then make our way to the forest on the other side from where we came. We don’t want to lead them to the camp.”

He kissed once more just along the side of her lips and let her out of his firm grip. He moved away from her and slithered backwards, away from the farmhouse. She followed him. The hay slicing along her skin gave her small cuts. When they got to the halfway point between the forest and farmhouse, Bakugo stood and hunched over. She did the same, listening intently to every sound.

They made their way into the forest where he broke into a run. She followed him until they reached the bigger trees. He climbed one of them quickly. She looked around and started to feel uncomfortable. She didn’t like to be on the ground without Hades. She climbed the next largest tree and scrambled up the branches until she was as high as he was.

The farmhouse, her farmhouse, was nearly entirely in view. She could see the field she had crossed too many times to count. Pain crept around inside of her as she imagined her bunker and rations and her clean little spaces, all torn apart by the infected.

“So Mina and Kirishima were here with you?” His voice betrayed his lack of hope.

She nodded. She saw a small cluster of men fighting the infected like fools. They would get sick. They would become infected and maybe they would die because not everyone was able to live with running sores and bloody tears.

“God, they should have run.” She recognized one of them. He was the man who shouted the loudest when the man with the evil grin peed on the fire. The man who pulled down her pants.”

“Those men held me captive. They’re the others.”

“Do you know where their camp is?”

“Yup. I’d like to avoid it.”

“What if they have Kirishima and Mina?”

The pain in his eyes hurt Y/n somehow, “I never said I was going to avoid it. I said I’d like to. I’m betting they have Kirishima and Mina.” She took one last look and knew it would be a long time before she ever came back,, if she ever did. She took her last look at the white siding and the small windmill in the front yard waved goodbye to her. As her feet made their way back down the tree, she saw something that made her feel the smallest amount of fear and hope simultaneously. On the ground is a small bandage and above it was a broken branch. She looked deeper into the forest and saw another broken branch. “They got away. They’re this way.” She pointed.

Bakugo looked at the bandage and scoffed, “Y/n that could belong to anyone.”

She shook her head,”No it’s not. It’ll smell like tea tree and the branches,” She pointed to them, “I told Kirishima it was howI always found my way through the woods.”

He bent his face to the ground and sniffed the air around the bandage, “It’s tea tree.” Y/n turned to run, but he grabbed her arm as he stood and pulled her into him. “One thing first.” He put his hands on the small of her back and lifted her into his arms. His lips met hers with desperation and excitement. His tongue slipped into her mouth, caressing hers. He sucked and nibbled on her lower lip as his hand rubbed her back. Suddenly his hands made their way lower and didn’t feel uncomfortable as he cupped her ass and lifted her into him/ He wrapped her legs around him. She was feeling the way she used to when she read the romance novels stored at the cabin. She felt a heat rising low in her belly.

He let her slide down his body, till her feet touched the ground again. Air rushed between them. She opened her eyes, not realizing she had closed them, and looked up into his face.

He grinned, “I’m going to have a hard time staying focused.” Y/n giggled like a schoolgirl. It was the first time that sound had left her lips. He kissed her softly one last time and walked away toward the broken branches and Y/n followed. “I never imagined they were alive. I went back to where they were when I got taken and I couldn’t find them. I knew Kirishima wasn’t very responsible- well neither of us were.” He ran a hand through his blonde shaggy hair.

“Mina told me you guys were pretty bad at paying attention.”

He chuckled and Y/n caught herself staring at his butt. It was round and firm and when he took a step, it moved in a way she enjoyed. She realized when she watched him, that she felt a small amount of guilt. Kirishima kissed her too. Kirishima made her smile and made her laugh.

Bakugo made her scared of him but safe against the world, where as Kirishima made her feel the opposite.

[xsparklingravenx]

breathtaking

Title: breathtaking

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Characters: Albedo, Klee

Rating: G

Word Count: 2,275

Summary: The times that Klee and Albedo tell each other to breathe.

AO3

The paintbrush dashed across the canvas, and in turn, something true came to life.

On the grassy plains of Mondstadt’s surrounding areas, a boy stood silent, a palette of colour in one hand, the brush in the other. Gently, he curved those colours across the blank sheet, splashes of blue and green and brown, the boars that roamed the plains recreated in paint and chalk outlines.

These boars were unremarkable, but that in itself was what made them noteworthy. Such a contradiction shouldn’t have made sense, but to the boy, it was perfect enough to immortalise. Hilichurls and Abyss Mages took to these lands like they were their own, but still the boars persisted, living free and unafraid. At any moment, they could be hunted, for sport or for food, and yet the few before him had survived their entire lives out in an unforgiving world.

Now they lived immortal in his image. Caught up in his work, he paid no attention to the passing of time around him, how the sun crossed the sky, how the wind danced across his skin, the Anemo Archon’s quiet blessing. Another brushstroke here and there brought his vision closer to completion. The boars continued to graze. The grass was emerald green, and if he mixed his colours just right, then maybe—

A distant explosion had him pausing. The boy turned his head, a single strand of pale hair falling into his eyes as he searched for the source. Somewhere over the hills, it seemed, far enough from him that he needn’t pay it any mind. Were the Knights of Favonius out exterminating vermin today? He wondered, idly, if Sucrose was with them, though he didn’t identify any sort of Anemo traces in the air from this far away. Another boom in the air, and he cast the thought aside, returning his attention to his art.

Life stilled around him once more. That was it. The boars carried on quietly. The colours melded together. Three boars, quiet, content, living beings, born from the soil and destined to return to it. They breathed, interacted with the elements, survived—

An explosion shook the air, so close that it rattled his canvas. The boy stopped still, a frown on his face, because he was certain he knew that sound. And he knew that intensity.

And he knew that brand of giggling.

He opened his mouth to shout, to cry, wait—but he was a fraction too late. The sight before him erupted into fire and chaos as an explosion roared and took out every single sign of life in front of him. The grass flamed, the boars that had survived their entire lives out on the plain now little more than charred carcasses before him. He stared at the carnage in front of him, the canvas still depicting his quiet moment from moments before, wordless at the sight.

And then, from the smoke and disaster, a tiny figure came sprinting out, arms at her side, eyes wide. She skidded to a stop before the boy, planting her hands on her hips, looking immensely pleased with herself. “Albedo! Did you see Jumpty Dumpty! It went boom!”

Albedo looked beyond her, to where the grass was still burning, smoke rising up into the sky. “Klee…? Why did it have to be here?”

He knew better than to question her intentions, because her intentions were always cause the biggest explosion possible. She beamed at him, and then, spotting his canvas, she bolted up to it. “Oh! Oh! Were you drawing again? It looks really good!”

“I was…up until you decided to blow my subjects up, yes.” Albedo looked between the smoking grass, the charred meat that was cooking in the fire, and his art, which was miraculously unscathed. “How did you…why were you…where’s Jean?”

Klee giggled. “Master Jean is busy today, so she let me go exploring! I wanted to try out some of my treasures, but Kaeya says that ‘explosion inside city wall, grounded be thy woe’, so here I am!”

She admired his painting as he looked down at his colours and wondered if he should add the fires to his painting. It was hardly an interesting specimen to recreate.

“They look really cool, Albedo is so good at making pictures!” Klee sat on the ground in front of it and watched the flames rise. “I didn’t know you’d be here, I just got lucky! I haven’t seen you in a while…you’re always so busy, but now we can hang out, right? Maybe we can play with my treasures?”

Playing with her treasures was a shortcut to a fiery doom, but he couldn’t deny that her words instilled a sense of guilt in him. So caught up in his alchemic studies as of late, all his time had been spent with Timaeus and Sucrose. He’d been hanging up his do not disturb sign constantly, and Klee had been all but left to her own (chaotic) devices. “Sorry, Klee. I didn’t realise you wanted my attention. Seeing as the boars are all…well, halfway to becoming a sticky honey roast, I suppose I can spare some time to play with you. Not that it was exactly how I saw my day going.”

“Oh! Oh! Can we find a cooking pot? Can you make Woodland Dream? I love when you cook, Albedo! It’s just like when you do your alchemy stuff, like, you go poof and then…bam! You make something new!”

Her enthusiasm might have been infectious to someone else, but fortunately, Albedo had been blessed with the ability to remain calm and casual-minded in her presence. “Considering we have plenty of fresh meat right here, Woodland Dream seems like a waste.”

“But if you make that, then I can go and get all the fishes with Jumpty Dumpty! We can play, and then we can eat! And then you can draw. Maybe you can draw me?”

She hopped up as Albedo considered her request. He hardly ever used his skills to paint that which did not pique his interest in the realm of alchemy, but she’d asked so earnestly. Would it be so wasteful to dedicate a couple of hours to produce happiness?

“Albedo?”

He looked down. The fire was beginning to die away now behind Klee, the grass singed and blackened. She adjusted her backpack, and he said, “Yes?”

“You should breathe,” she said, smiling impossibly wide. “Come on, let’s go! We’ve got fishes to get!”

And then she was gone, dashing off across the plains, and he realised that she was right. In his pursuit of life, in his creation of art, he had not taken a single breath in. He closed his eyes and did as she asked, allowing himself the mimicry of human necessity. Nobody noticed, except her, and she didn’t question it.

In the distance, she turned and shouted, “Albedo! I’m gonna leave you behind if you don’t hurry!”

Packing up his art supplies, he chased after her, thoughts of eruptions in the back of his mind. It was going to be a long day, keeping her from wanton destruction, but at least she’d be happy—and he couldn’t deny that a day spent with her wouldn’t brighten his spirits regardless.

***

The outskirts of Dragonspine mountain were bitterly cold, the water close to freezing entirely, and yet the moment Klee went beneath the surface, Albedo didn’t hesitate to dive beneath.

It wasn’t supposed to be serious. He’d asked the traveller and her floating companion for assistance in collecting Starsilver for an alchemical recipe, and yet Lumine had shown up on the mountain side with Klee in tow, claiming that she’d been with her when he’d sent word to Mondstadt that he wished for her help, and that she refused to stay behind.

“It’ll be fine!” Paimon had declared in Lumine’s lieu. “Paimon thinks that even if things go bang, at least it’ll be nice and warm!”

“And we can always cook you over one of her open flames if things start looking dire,” Lumine added, looking a little smug.

Klee had been giggling then, but that had been before they’d run into the Lawachurl, before the lumbering beast had picked her up in its great hands and thrown her through the air. Her scream still rang out in his ears. Life born from soil was so fragile, and that was what he’d thought when he’d watched, helpless, as she hit the water and sank beneath it.

He had not thought through his plan, he’d just acted, tossing aside his sword and abandoning the traveller to the battle. The cold had not been a factor in his mind. The fight was forgotten. Miss Alice’s words echoed in his skull, treat her like a real younger sister!

Elder brothers protected their siblings. The traveller had told him stories of her own brother, how she would do anything to find him. She’d also mentioned the Fatui Harbinger who would do anything for the sake of his baby brother, and he knew of Diluc’s loyalty to his own non-blood sibling, how the rift between him and Kaeya had not prevented him from coming to his aid before. Albedo was not related to Klee, but she was his sister nonetheless, and that meant he had to save her.

The water was akin to ice, but his body withstood it, powered by something more than adrenaline. His eyes stung, but there she was, floating lifelessly, a small body so still, and something surged in his chest, emotion that he did not often feel, emotion that overtook his thoughts, his logic.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest, and oh, she was still a child, still so tiny, with so much power but as fragile as every other being. He thought of the boars she’d taken the lives of that day before his canvas, how she’d ended their existence with the childish joy of an exploded bomb, and he thought of the Lawachurl and its base desire to attack. They were not the same, yet they were; life was inexplicably difficult to understand.

He broke the surface, not choking or hacking, but that was normal for him. Klee did not move. There were no coughs, no groans, no cracking open of her eyes. She was limp in his arms, drenched through and frozen in his arms.

“Klee!” Albedo shouted, the roar of the Lawachurl’s fierce battle with Lumine nearly sweeping away his voice. He kicked his legs to keep them afloat, but he was losing his strength fast, the cold sweeping it away. “Wake up!”

Still, she didn’t move. She hung there in his grasp, and it was then that he realised that she wasn’t breathing. Fear gripped his heart as he dragged her through the water to the snowy bank. He had to hope that Lumine could hold it off without him. He had to hope that there was still enough of Klee left in her body for him to save.

Pushing back his shivers, he laid her on the snow and tipped her head back. Acting on instinct more than thought, he pressed the heel of his hand to her chest, one hand instead of two, not wanting to hurt her with his actions, but wanting to keep her with him through any means necessary.

Usually, he brought things to life through the act of creation, through alchemy, through his paintbrush and his clever mind. This was different. Klee was already living, he just had to keep her that way, and in his experience, keeping something alive was almost always more difficult than giving it a pulse. Practicality and alchemic practices went hand-in-hand, and yet here he was, doubting himself.

He pressed down. One compression. Two. Three. Keeping track of the time between them as Lumine shouted behind him, as the Anemo Archon’s winds whipped across his skin, as the unforgiving bitterness of Dragonspine bit deep into his bones of chalk. Albedo thought of blooming flowers, of exploding bombs, and he thought of Miss Alice and his own chest splintered beneath the pressure.

“Breathe, Klee!” he cried. “Breathe!”

And she did. She choked. Water expelled itself from her lungs as Albedo sat back to give her space. He heard the thump of the Lawachurl hitting the ground behind him, and, trusting Lumine to finish it off, he gave Klee all his attention.

As her breathing calmed, he asked, “Are you okay? Klee, speak to me.”

“Too much water…” she whispered, reaching out her arms to him. “I was scared…”

He knelt in front of her and answered her request silently, pulling her close to his chest as she buried her head into his. Alive. She was still frozen but she was alive.

“Your catalyst,” he said. “Your Vision. Use it.”

Between them, Pyro erupted, warmth in a different sense than her usual explosions. It swept through him and her both, and into his chest, she said, “You rescued me, Albedo…”

“Of course I did.”

And as she wrapped her tiny arms back around him, she said, “Breathe too, please?”

He closed his eyes and did. In and out in time with her, soil and chalk. The oxygen did nothing for him, but it did everything for her, so he followed her lead, this girl full of energy and life, his family until the end.

“Woodland Dream when we get back,” he said. “I promise.”

She held onto him tight, and he listened to her breaths, the cold forgotten, the fear draining away.

He could breathe for her as much as she needed him to.