#and i blew my nose so embarrassingly loud

[mydream-synopsis]

just watched the blue period live action (cried a grand total of 3 times)

[melanieph321]

Gabriel Medina x Reader - Untamable Part 4/8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Reader spends the summer with her first love, Gabriel Medina, for him to get a chance to know their three year old son. However, both Reader and Gabriel struggle to keep their feelings at bay.

Enjoy!

"He's calling....again."

"Let it ring." You groand.

Vavó entered her living room with the homeline in her hand. "I think he's just making sure that you haven't left São Sebastião yet."

"I told you Vavó, we're not leaving you. I want to stay here and help you with the house."

"If you say so, querida. But right now you seem to need more help than my house."

She was right. You were a mess and embarrassingly so. Gabriel had gotten under your skin without even trying.

"Fine, give me the phone." You held out your hand, asking for it. Vavó handed it to you and stuck around for the drama that might unfold.

"Yes?"

"Y/N?."

"This is her."

"It's me, Gabriel."

"Yes, I know the sound of your voice, Gabriel. What do you want?"

The weight of his sigh blew in your ear. "I've been calling you for a week now. Why haven't you picked up?"

"I've been busy...helping Vavó with her house."

Vavó chuckled from where she stood. You were a terrible liar.

"So you're still in São Sebastião then?"

"Yes, Gabriel. We're still here." It broke your heart a bit, hearing the angst in his voice. Little did he know that the last thing you wanted was to take Nemo away from him. The whole point of this summer was for Nemo to finally know his dad. To know him for all he was and all he could be.

"I was thinking...." Gabriel said.

"About what?"

"About this whole co-parenting thing."

"Oh."

"Yes, it has to work. For Nemo, I mean."

"For Nemo?"

"Yes, we have to get along for him."

"I....agree." You sighed.

"Good. Because I understand that you hate me. I mean, you have every right to after all I've put you through."

"Gabriel, I don't—"

"But we shouldn't let our feelings for each other affect what is best for our son, meaning what happened last week can't happen again. Ever."

There was a loud thud in your ear. It was either the beating of your heart or the beating of Gabriel's. Nevertheless, you were left speechless.

"If we ever disagree on something, anything, we have to work it out right away. With words." He emphasized, acknowledging without scrutiny, that your actions last week had indeed been childish. This level of accountability and maturity humbled you.

"Hello, Y/N. You still there?"

"I'm here." You pressed the phone to your ear.

"Good." He chuckled. A soft chuckle. "That's good."

"Why is that good?"

"I dunno." You imagined him on the other end of the line, running a hand through his wavy hair. "I guess I was a little afraid that you packed your bags and went back to São Paulo."

"Gabriel." You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling guilty as ever. "I would never leave without telling you. Nemo would be so upset."

"How is the little guy? I hope he's not up to no good."

"No, he's alright." You chuckled. It was a nice feeling, laughing with Gabriel. "He's actually out playing in the backyard. Some of the neighborhood kids are teaching him how to fly a kite."

"Hey, I wanted to do that."

You bit your lip, everything inside you screaming. Don't say it, don't say it. "You should come over. Nemo will be happy to see you." You immediately looked to Vavó, who stood with her arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

"Shit, I can't today."

"Oh." His words hurt more than you expected. Followed by a prickly sensation beneath your eyelids.

"Yeah, it's my friend's wedding. He's getting married tomorrow, but Rico and I are leaving for the venue tonight."

"I see."

"But hey!" Gabriel's voice sparked through the phone. "You should come with us?"

"I...I should?"

"Yes, you and Nemo. Please, you have to come, my friends would love to meet him."

"Right...meet Nemo."

"Yes. It'll be perfect. I can pick the two of you up tonight, and we can all go together like a—"

"....Family." You nodded.

"Yeah, a real family."

It's all you ever wanted and now he wants it too. How could you say no?

"Yes. Okay. We'll come with you to the wedding."

"You will?" Gabriel sounded like he had shot up into the air. Or at least that he was bouncing up and down. "That's great Y/N. Rico and I'll will pick you up around eight. And anything you need, like money for a dress, just let me know and I'll send it to you."

The phone call pretty much ended there, with Gabriel offering to pay for your dress. But only when Vavó asked, "What did he say?" Did it all hit you.

"Erm...Vavó. I think we need to go shopping."

"What?"

You nodded. "Like, right now."

********************************************

Not only were you in need of a new dress, you also needed new shoes, a haircut, a manicure, and a tuxedo to fit a three year old boy. To think that you got all of that done by the time Gabriel came to pick you up was a miracle.

"Papa!"

His car pulled up to the house, with Nemo running down Vavó's driveway, dragging his little suitcase behind him.

"How is my little fish?" Nemo tripped on his feet. Fortunately, Gabriel caught him just before he fell.

"Good, papa." Nemo giggled.

"Yeah? Are you ready to go to a wedding with Papa and Uncle Rico?"

Nemo nodded his head, then pointed back towards the house. "Look at Mamãe."

You came down the driveway, dragging your own suitcase alongside you. On your feet were a new pair of heels you wished you had broken into earlier. The walk from Vavó's house to Gabriel's car might have been the most painful walk you had ever experienced.

"Y/N?"

Looking up from your feet, you saw Nemo in Gabriel's arms. Gabriel, who looked a bit lost as he stood, gaping at you, his mouth left wide open.

"A little help, please?" You groand.

"Erm...of course. Sure." He came to your rescue, helping you with the suitcase, while Rico put Nemo into his baby seat.

"Thank you." You said, flickering a strand of hair that irritated your eye.

"You look good." Gabriel tilted his head, watching you curiously.

"I do?" It was probably the haircut. Other than that, you looked pretty normal, you thought. Except for the high heels, of course.

"Yes." He muttered. "Did you do something to your hair?"

"I actually got it blown out this morning. But I might have over done it."

"No, no." He assured. "It looks good. You look good."

"Thank you, Gabriel. " You felt the need to complement him too. He was dressed so casually, though, a t-shirt and the usual baord shorts. But he smelled like a dream. You were drawn to it, his scent.

"Do you wanna ride shot gun?"

"Huh?" You batted out of your trans.

"Shot gun?" He smiled. "Or do you prefer sitting next to Nemo in the backseat?"

"Erm...no. I can ride shot gun."

"Great, I'll tell Rico to move over."

It was a nice little road trip. You were headed just up the coast where Gabriel's friend had booked out a resort by the beach to host the resption of the newly wedded couple.

It was no surprise that a lot of people at the resort knew Gabriel. People, guests of the resort who didn't even know Gabriel personally, came up to him and patted him on the shoulder, congratulating him on his recent successes as a surfer. Adults became children, begging Gabriel to pose for pictures or a quick video to someone's beloved back home, all while holding up the line in the hotel lobby.

For a moment, you got a glimpse of what it felt like to be Gabriel Medina, where even at someone elses wedding venue, he was the spectical.

"We should get the bags to the room. Maybe unpack." Gabriel said, who was a handed a keycard from the reception. Both he and Rico had previous reservations. You, on the other hand.....

"I'll share with Rico." Gabriel said, handing you his key in the elevator.

"Where will you sleep?" You asked.

"With Rico, of course. Right Ricci?"

"Right." The buff man muttered. Rico had given up his seat for you in the car and now he was giving up his hotel room. You felt so sorry for him.

"It's okay." You said, handing Gabriel back his key, to which his eyebrows furrowed. "It's okay." You nodded. "Nemo and I will stay with you."

"With me?"

"With him?" Even Rico was flabbergasted. Although, he seemed more worried than surprised.

You shrugged, Nemo bouncing in your arms. "We're a family, aren't we?"

Gabriel looked to you, a sly smile on his lips. "We are."

"It's settled then."

The doors to the elevators opened, and you went ahead, leading the way to your room. You waited for Gabriel to catch up with the keycard while Rico slipped into the room next door, but not before whsipering the words "Good luck." to Gabriel, who dismissed his laughing friend.

You had no idea why Rico found this predicament so funny. However, you did see the irony in the whole situation as a queen-sized bed stared back at you upon your entry into the hotel room.

"Shit."

"What?"

"There's only one bed." The rest of the room was lovely, with glass widows for walls giving you the perfect view of the sun setting over beach.

"Had you expected there to be two. I only booked the room for myself." Gabriel said.

"No, but at least for the bed to be king-sized. The three of us won't fit on the queen sized one."

"Oh." He scratched the back of his head, appearing rightfully confused. At least he wasn't freaking out like you were. "Do you want me to go down to the reception, see if they have another room available?"

"No it's okay." You waved. "We'll only cause them trouble."

"Are you sure? I'm certain that they'll arrange it for us." Gabriel said, with a sense of security that only a person with his level of fame could have.

It never occurred until later in your relationship that Gabriel was of importance. That a lot of people would go great lengths to keep him happy. To you, he had just been Gabriel Medina, your first love.

"It's okay Gaby. We'll figure something out." You said.

He perked up, eyes widening.

"What?"

"You called me Gaby." He said, not even attempting to hide the boyish grin on his lips.

"Yeah, and? I've always called you Gaby."

"Yes before, but then you stopped."

"I did? When?"

You didn't have to ask him when, you already new the answer and so did Gabriel. Perhaps that's why he chose silence as his answer. A good choice, since it allowed the smile on his face to linger.

"I think Nemo needs to stretch his legs from the car ride." You muttered. "Will you take him for a walk before he goes to bed?"

"Sure." Gabriel picked him up from the floor where he was playing with your rooms. Do not disturb sign.

"Hey buddy. How about a walk with Papa before bed?" Nemo yawned in his arms but still brought himself to nod his head. "Alright then, let's go." Gabriel looked to you, a wink of his eye. "Well, be right back."

The two of them left you to unpack your suitcase, and only then, while folding clothes, did you acknowledge how fast your heart was beating. Beating for Gabriel.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

[nametakensff]

Could you possibly write 🧡 for platonic S/tobin? I love the way you always allude to them in your S/teddie fics, and I’d love to see how you write them!

Hey anon, thank you for the prompt (Warm Night In)! Had a lot of fun writing this, and it ended up just over 8k!

((Set this in my S/teddie Mutual fetish AU - this would take part a few months after the S4 v/ecna bs (obviously everyone lives and H/awkins remains unscathed for the most part because I crave happiness) - pre-relationship, mutual pining on either side))

S/teve comes down with an absolute monster of a cold and R/obin is there to look after him

~~~~~~

Content:

Platonic S/tobin, S/teddie pre-relationship (M/M), cold sneezes, loud sneezes, sneezing in tissues, S/teve blowing his nose in E/ddie's bandana, fever, coughing, caretaking, mess, spray, descriptions of explicit fetish fantasies, mentions of potential contagion, R/obin is a very good sport about S/teve being terrible at covering his sneezes

CW: internalised homophobia, S/teve is insecure about his fetish

NSFW - fic is about a platonic M/F relationship but includes separate NSFW M/M content - minors DNI!

“HH-H!! HAHHRISHHHHOOOHhh! Fuck…”

Steve snuffled miserably into the soggy tissue he’d managed to catch his most recent explosion in. It looked about as sturdy as he currently felt – which was to say, not at all. He reached out from under the protective cover of his jacket, functioning as a makeshift blanket as he lay on the breakroom couch, and plucked another 3 tissues from the quickly diminishing box. Taking in a deep breath, he blew his nose with as much force as he could muster, desperate to get some relief from the built-up congestion. All attempts of keeping noise to a minimum had dwindled hours ago, along with whatever remained of his energy. He tried not to think about the customers browsing the shelves of the establishment for movies, how they could probably hear every crackling shift of mucus that he forced out into the tissues, the embarrassingly loud honk that rounded off his efforts.

It felt as though he’d spent more time in the first half of his shift stifling the never-ending barrage of sneezes between his pinching fingers than actually working. It hadn’t done anything for his headache, squeezing his temples as if in a vice – and it certainly hadn’t helped with the blockage in his sinuses. Once Robin had shown up that afternoon, she had all but forced him to go and lie down in the back, pulling him by the arm even as he smothered another miserable sneeze against his palm.

“Steve, please. If not for your own sake, do this for me. I don’t want to be responsible for letting you die on shift from some kind of freak head explosion – especially not in front of the customers. Who do you think’ll be the one scrubbing your brains off the walls?”

“Jesus, Robin. It’s not th’haahht….that ba’hhHDD!!”

Out of pure habit at that point, Steve had pinched his quivering nostrils closed, that final touch of his fingers to the sensitive skin pushing him over the edge.

“HAHH’GXKKT’SCHHH!!”

It was quieter than his unsuppressed sneezes, nobody could fight him on that. But it’d still been loud, the desperate attempt at wrangling it into submission making it angrier, more violent to his ears – and evidently, Robin’s. She’d hissed in sympathy as he let go of his nose, the wrinkle of concern between her furrowed brows growing deeper as his sinuses audibly squeaked with each post-sneeze snuffle.

“You shouldn’t do that.” She’d worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “You’ll seriously hurt yourself – blow out an eardrum or something. Steve – don’t.” She finished firmly, glaring as he had started to lift his hand up to his nose in preparation for an encore.

“But ih-hih-! It’s so loud – I –“

“It’s okay, dingus. There’s, like, one guy here right now. In the adult movie section. At 4:30pm.”

It was certainly a reassuring statement, but it wasn’t really as if Steve would have been able to hold back in the first place. The couch shook with the force of the sneeze that rocked through him – the first he had actually let out unhindered since the tickle had taken hold hours earlier. He’d practically roared with the effort of it, drenching his palms as he caught it between his steepled hands.

“HAHHH’RESSSSSHHHHIEWWWW!!!”

He’d noticed Robin jump, heard her mutter a soft “oh my god” as her soul no doubt left her body. Glancing up apologetically, he had blinked through bleary eyes at her, holding his soiled hands in place. He hoped she didn’t notice the slight shiver that ran down his spine, the goosebumps breaking out over his arms. After holding back for so long, it had felt so good to purge the tickle completely, like spreading a soothing balm over the persistent, niggling itch.

“Sorry.” He had just about resisted the urge to sniffle again, knowing it would sound gnarly.

“That’s ok – hey, look at that, I don’t need that midday coffee anymore. Totally awake!” She smiled like a dork and he couldn’t help grinning behind the protective cover of his hands.

“I’m gonna walk to the store on my lunch break and get you some things. Are you allergic to any medicines? Does your head hurt? Would you say you’re coming down with a cough – and is it a chesty kind of deal, or is it more tickly? Do you –“

“Robi’d.” Steve had cut her off, both of them visibly wincing as he struggled to pronounce her name. As if he didn’t feel disgusting enough, he could feel his nostrils twitching and flaring, another colossal sneeze working its way up and out of his sinuses just moments later.

“HAHHH’GITTSSCHHH’IEWWW!! Oh M’by god….”

Messy. So, so messy. As he’d snuffled and searched frantically for something to save him, Robin had slid a small pack of tissues across the coffee table in front of the couch.

“Guess I’ll take my break now. Try and hold out with these. Do not move. I’ll be back in 20 minutes, tops!”

With that, she’d spun on her heels and barrelled out of the door, leaving him to sit and stare at the tissues, holding his sticky hands tightly to his face as he tried to formulate the best plan of action. Before he’d even started to reach for them, Robin had stuck her head round the breakroom door one last time.

“Oh, and before I forget – Bless you!”

~~~~~~

‘Do not move’, she’d said. Steve had initially intended to clean himself up and ignore her entirely, getting back to organising the latest releases on the shelves and continuing as before. That had been his intention, but after the laborious and disgusting task of cleaning up his hands and face with tissues so flimsy they stuck to his skin almost instantly, and the blood rush that hit him so hard the moment he stood up he had swooned with it – not moving sounded like a great idea, actually. And so he hadn’t, for hours now.

He tossed the latest bundle of soaked tissues in the general direction of the trash can, using another few to dab gingerly under his damp, sensitive nostrils. Robin had been sure to pick him up some Kleenex Mansize on her trip to the pharmacy, making Steve blush when she’d mentioned they were the next best thing to getting him a tablecloth to use. He knew she’d just been joking but for various…reasons, his regrettably huge – and often, extremely messy – sneezes were a topic he didn’t like to draw attention to. They did a good enough job of doing that themself, turning more than a few heads each time they ripped through his sinuses. She’d noticed his change in demeanour immediately, because of course she had, and her voice had softened as she made some comment or other about ‘you know what they say about big sneezes’. He’d had to laugh at that – she had an amazing ability to disarm and placate him when all he wanted was to defend.

It was hard not to be defensive when it came to the topic of sneezing. He wondered if he’d ever be brave enough to explain why to Robin. He’d disclosed more to her than he had to any other person – even Nancy. And for what it was worth, that seemed to be the case for Robin, too. She may not have ended up his girlfriend, but this was better. She was his best friend, his person. He considered it a blessing that she actually couldn’t like him in that way – he was a fuck up, romantically. It only seemed to push people away when he got emotionally involved – another thing he had confessed to her one night when they were cuddled up in her bedroom, the late hour and the collective exhaustion between the pair of them elevating their meaningless rambling into much deeper, scarier territory.

She’d told him at the time that he wasn’t a fuck up, that he was fucking great and that he just had to believe her. That he had to slow down and stop treating dating like it was some kind of doomsday race, and that he would definitely find the girl for him. He’d been surprised that, although the comment was reassuring in its own way, something felt a little…off. Probably because an image of Eddie flashed across his mind in that moment, and the gravity of it was too much for him to handle. He’d tried his best to ignore it, but it had only flourished in the following weeks to the point he was thinking about the metalhead near constantly. It terrified him, truth be told. And that fear made him feel like a hypocrite above all else. How could he accept Robin with such ease but the thought of himself liking men almost had him breaking out in a cold sweat?

It really didn’t help that Eddie had the most extensive and pervasive allergies of anyone Steve had ever known. He’d figured the fits he’d been privy to at the boat house had been circumstantial. It had been dusty enough that he’d sneezed a couple of times himself, and he’d been there sparingly – for Eddie, it had been days of exposure. Of course he’d had a rough time. But, as time went on, Steve realised it wasn’t just dust. It was dust, and mould, and pollen, and certain perfumes, and feathers – the list that Steve wouldn’t admit to mentally keeping continued to grow as the days became weeks became the last couple of months. He would be engrossed in conversation, completely captivated by whatever Eddie was saying and happily so, when the older man’s expression would crumple and Steve had to pretend to be a normal person as he witnessed the most erotic allergic reactions of his life unfold mere feet away from him.

He felt he did a pretty good job, thank you very much. He even remembered to bless Eddie about half of the time, and enjoyed the bashful smile he got in response when he did. He was pretty sure he didn’t turn totally bright red each time – something he considered a huge achievement. Crossing his legs was a surefire way of concealing any visible…excitement. He was nailing it. Dealing with Eddie’s sneezes was one thing - as much as he had tried to hold back around the older man, he’d slipped up a few times and sneezed his embarrassing, splashy, intrusive sneezes in front of him. Luckily, the metalhead didn’t seem entirely repulsed – if anything, Steve noticed a twinkle in his expressive eyes, noticed a certain shift in his demeanour and body language as he focused in on him. It made him far too happy to be blessed by Eddie, but it simultaneously made him want the ground to open up and swallow him whole. This growing attraction to the older man, his – interest, going into overdrive; all of it was just too much to deal with – so he…didn’t. Basically.

And he didn’t need to be thinking about all this right now – not when his head was pounding and his eyes and nose were leaking like a faucet. And this fucking tickle…

Sitting up now, he reached frantically for another handful of tissues, holding them at the ready in an upraised hand as he panted and gasped, willing the maddening tickle to culminate and grant him some temporary reprieve. He could feel his nostrils flaring, stretching to capacity as the itch burrowed and crawled through his sinuses, leaving them damp and threatening to overflow.

“Come on…” he grumbled aloud after a particularly desperate gasp scissored out of him, causing tears of irritation to bead at the corners of his eyes but leaving him notably bereft of sneezes.

He reached up with a finger of the hand not cradling the tissues expectantly in front of him and nudged the tip of his nose from side to side. More often than not, a little manual stimulation could help a particularly stubborn sneeze along, at least if he was ticklish enough. It seemed to do its job, a few little wiggles igniting the tickle and leaving him bristling with the force of the subsequent inhale.

“HHDTT-!! HUUURRRSHHHHH’OOHhh!! HARRRUSHHHH’IEWWW!! TISSSCHHH’IEWW!! HAGT’TSCHHHHhhhh!!”

The tissues were predictably destroyed in the onslaught, damp and torn against his palm. He sat in place for a moment, leaning heavily to one side on the arm he’d frantically propped up against the couch to steady himself. That fit had been intense, each sneeze seeming to begin at his toes and rip through his entire body, muscles seizing and skin tingling. He felt pretty pathetic, shaking like a leaf and panting in the aftermath, extremely grateful that although everyone in downtown Hawkins could probably hear the excruciatingly fast progression of his illness, they couldn’t see him. He swiped at his dripping nostrils with what was left of the tissues before tossing them, plucking even more to tend to his leaking eyes, his lips dampened with heavy spray. One wary glance at the box revealed that it was almost empty. With a defeated sigh, he allowed himself to fall back against the couch, one arm slung over his closed eyes.

He hated being sick. The lack of control, the way it distracted him from focusing his energy on others, demanding he focus on himself, his weakened body that was no longer cooperating with him. The humiliation of it – the way he was such a gross, drippy mess. He felt like a germ factory, and he wasn’t wrong.

The worst part of it all, even above feeling shitty and gross and useless – was that he was inevitably going to get Robin sick. Her parents were out of town for the week, some old hippy reunion somewhere or other. Robin was fine with the peace and having the house to herself, he knew that – but they’d both decided that since he drove her to and from school and work most days and they hung out most days too, it would make sense that she just stay with him for the week.

It was fun, like they were real roommates – or maybe siblings? Both of them were Only Children so it wasn’t like they had any means of comparison, but the closeness and easiness of their bond was undeniable to themselves and everyone around them. Every day, they’d wake up, eat breakfast together, Steve would drop Robin off and they'd go about their respective school or work, reconvene for their shared evening shifts, eat dinner together, sometimes hang out with each other and sometimes not. They’d planned to veg out tonight, watch some dumb movies and relax. It was great hanging out with everyone, especially now that Eddie had been welcomed into the fold, but he needed his Robin time. Working together most of the week was great, for sure, but it was still work.

That had been the plan, but now he was wondering if he should muster up the rest of his strength at the end of the day to drop her off at her house and drive himself back home alone, sequestering himself away until this plague-like sickness fucked off for good. He knew already she wouldn’t allow it, but he was going to proffer the suggestion anyway.

He glanced at the crooked clock on the wall – just about two hours ‘til closing. Keith and the other coworker Steve had yet to meet would be working tomorrow, and he had the weekend off, for which he could not have imagined he would ever feel so grateful. Maybe he could sneeze and cough and wheeze this cold out of his system in a day if he willed it so. He felt awful that Robin had been working the front alone, especially as business ramped up to a maximum on Friday evenings. Just two more hours.

~~~~~

“…eve. Hey, Steve. Wakey wakey. Steeeve.”

It took Steve a moment to realise who he was, let alone where he was and the fact that Robin was gently shaking him awake. He groaned as his head started to throb almost immediately, as if the headache had been waiting to strike the second he woke up. His eyes opened slowly, irritated and dry, and scanned their way upwards to take in the nervous expression on Robin’s face. She was smiling, sure, but she was terrible at masking her concern. It worried him more than a little that she was even trying to hide the anxiety she would usually wear so plainly.

“…Robin?” He managed to rasp out. They both winced at the ragged sound of it.

“Jeez, Dingus. You sound like you swallowed a pile of broken glass.” Robin was still smiling, but it didn’t reach her eyes. If anything, they looked almost glossy enough that tears were imminent. Steve absolutely couldn’t stand that – the immediate need to reassure her galvanised him, the final push he needed to drag himself upwards and into a seated position. His head throbbed, and he gritted his teeth against the pain. He sensed Robin hovering, even with his eyes closed could visualise her hesitant hand outstretched toward him.

“I’m okay,” He cleared his throat somewhat productively, and tried again. “I’m okay, Robin.” Slightly better.

She flashed him another sad smile.

“You’re really not, Steve. But you don’t need to be.”

He didn’t really have a response to that – he just nodded, kneading at his temple a couple of times, willing the pain to recede. Sitting up had only made the throbbing worse, and on top of that the shifting of mucus in his sinuses had brought that ever-lingering tickle back to the surface. And god, did it tickle…

“I’ve gotten everything sorted out front. It’s a teeny tiny bit early, but I figure we’re alright to head out now. Do you – oh.”

Robin paused, taking in Steve’s tortured expression and the way his chest jumped with increasingly violent inhales. He noticed her noticing, started to blush as he lifted a hand frantically to cover his twisting facial features. He scrambled madly for the tissue box, but he wasn’t going to make it, he was going to sneeze, and-

He felt Robin press a handful of fresh tissues into his reaching palm, but he was too slow. The first sneeze burst out into his waiting palm, drenching it with spray and an unfortunate build-up of mess.

“RRRRISCCHHHHHH’IEWWWW!!”

He had just enough time to raise the tissues in his other hand to his face for the volley that followed, awkwardly cradling his soiled hand in a partial fist to shield the damage from Robin.

“HAHHHDTT’SHIEWWWWW!! HH’RRRUSHHHH’OOHH!! RRRRRSHHHH’UHHH!!”

He shuddered, the force of the powerful sneezing sapping him of almost all of his remaining energy. He gingerly wiped at his nose and tossed the sodden wad towards the trash can, composed enough now to reach for more clean tissues on his own and tend to his hands.

He glanced up and noticed Robin standing awkwardly with her arms wrapped around her lanky frame, half-watching and half-floundering, not sure where to look and chewing her bottom lip hard enough that it looked painful.

“Ugh, sorry you had to see that, Robs. I really am okay, I promise. Definitely sick. But okay.” He tossed the second wad of tissues in the trash and stood up tentatively, wobbling a little but managing not to fall on his ass. Robin had reached out then, steadied him with a soft hand to the back of his tricep. She gasped, eyes darting up to his face.

“Steve, you’re boiling hot! Like, volcanic explosion, magma-level hot!”

He sighed, knowing there was no way his verbal reassurances would get through to her at this point. He could understand how she was feeling – everyone called him a mother hen, and he knew it was true. Worrying about other people was an immutable and extremely prominent part of his personality. He’d be fussing over her just as much if he were in her shoes – would offer to carry her to the car if she was this shaky on her feet, even knowing he’d probably get an ‘Ew, gross’ and stalwart refusal to let him do so.

“’S just a mild fever. I run hot anyway, you know that.” He rounded off this blasé statement with an obnoxiously noisy sniffle.

She wrinkled her nose at him.

“Can you drive like this?” She asked, voice heavy with concern as she helped him gather up his things.

“Absolutely. Driven under much worse conditions, remember?” He was referring to driving uphill in the dark, borderline concussed, and the both of them knew it.

“That was different – desperate times, fighting an evil sludge monster. The only evil sludge monster here right now is you, Harrington.”

He snuffled again, the sound of it thick and wet, causing her to wince. Her poorly veiled disgust wasn’t making him feel much better, but he also couldn’t hold it against her. He sounded gross.

“It was different – like I said, much worse conditions. I have a cold, Robin. I’m not on my death bed or anything.” He shouldered his backpack, clearing his throat and managing to hold back what he was sure would be an obnoxiously prolonged coughing fit. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

She shrugged and followed him as he strode – or attempted to stride – out into the store. She was hovering, making sure he wouldn’t fall – it was sweet but still irritating. By the time they reached the car, she was close enough that when he spun round suddenly she nearly fell backwards in shock. He reached out to grab and steady her by the forearm, feeling guilty immediately that he’d touched her with a germy hand.

“Listen, Robin – I really don’t want you to catch this. Will you let me drive you home? I can bring you your stuff back in a couple of days.”

“Steve,” she started, her tone soft but firm. “I’m not leaving you alone right now. I don’t care if I get sick – you need someone to help you.”

“I don’t – “

“Don’t bother trying to talk me out of it. You’d just hide yourself away and get sicker and sicker, feeling sorry for yourself and ignoring anybody who reached out to you. You sound awful, Steve, I’m serious. I’m staying with you. Tough shit.”

He blinked at her. He’d expected her to refuse, but not the additional psychoanalytical beat down.

“Um. Wow, okay, sure. It’s your funeral if you catch it.” He shrugged, opening the car door.

“Thought you weren’t on your death bed.” She quipped back, settling into the passenger seat.

“Yeah, well.”

~~~~~~

After all the easy-going confidence with which he’d reassured Robin he was totally fine to drive, within minutes he realised that whilst he technically could, it would not be fun. If anything, he’d felt better with the concussion. He had a permanent bundle of tissues in his right hand, even as he clutched the wheel, ready to stifle sneeze after sneeze as Robin fretted beside him and held the wheel steady enough that they wouldn’t go veering dangerously off-road. They were a week into May,  the weather not even remotely cold outside, but the fever had left him chilled and shivering enough that he’d turned the heating up anyway, apologising to Robin. It wasn’t helping, however, and all the shift in temperature seemed to do was tickle his sensitive nose even more.

It was as Steve pulled to a stop at a red light that the tickle blossomed so suddenly and so intensely that he couldn’t even think to let go of the wheel and ready himself to sneeze into his tissues. His chest jumped with a wrenching gasp, nostrils flaring wide and jaw snapping open in an instant. It tickled so, so much; even as it tipped his head back and squeezed his eyes closed, he couldn’t deny that the sensation was immensely pleasurable, moreso knowing that the resultant sneeze was going to be an absolute monster. He craved that release after all those hastily suppressed sneezes, pinching his reddened nostrils shut against the force of them.

Focusing all of his energy on the sneeze and losing himself entirely, he hitched once, twice, and then –

“HAHHHDDT’TIISSSCCHHHHH’IEWWWW!!!”

It tore through him, sending him tumbling forward in his chair. As he’d expected, it felt fucking incredible – he leaned into it, savoured that tingling relief that spread through his limbs as his lungs pushed out every last bit of air through his pursed lips.

“Oh, god, Steve!”

Robin’s yelp pulled him back to the present - the embarrassing, unfortunate present in which he had just sprayed the sneeze to end all sneezes all over the steering wheel, dashboard, his own arms and hands, and practically everything else within a 4 foot radius as the massive cloud of aerosol swirled in the air around him. He felt his entire face burning – he meant to apologise, he really did, but the tickle returned with a vengeance and it was just too strong.

“TTTISSSSHHHHH’IIEWWWW!! HH’RISSSSSHH’OOohh!!”

He sneezed twice more in much the same fashion, helpless to control it. He rocked with them, eyes streaming in irritation, feeling his muscles strain with the effort and the way it almost lifted him from his seat.

“Steve!! Oh my god, that went everywhere!” He heard Robin complain, saw how out of the corner of his eye she rolled down her window frantically.

“Fuck, I’m –“ He started before a loud honking behind them cut him off. The light had turned green and the car behind them was impatiently telling them to haul ass – how embarrassing. He stepped on the gas, blushing to his ears and hoping that the other driver hadn’t been witness to that repulsive display.

He sniffled, turning a corner and, thankfully, onto a road with no other drivers. He took the chance to peer down sheepishly at the damage he’d caused. His steering wheel was almost dripping; the dashboard glittering with visible droplets of his spray; he could even see a shimmer of dampness on the back of his hands and forearms.

“Robin,” he started, scrambling with one hand for some clean tissues and scrubbing at every surface he could reach. “I am so, so sorry. That was disgusting. Did I – did I get you?”

He turned to her, plucking a handful of tissues from the box and thrusting them at her. He realised with some dismay as she accepted them that said box was now completely empty.

“I don’t know what happened – I just couldn’t control them. God.” He scrunched his eyes shut before remembering he was in the middle of driving.

“Ugh, Dingus. It’s okay. I mean, it’s pretty gross but I’ve had, like, gooey monster tentacles all over me. I can handle your mucus.”

“Fuck.” It didn’t help – he was still mortified. Robin was such a good sport – he imagined most people would have punched him square in the jaw for that performance.

“Steve, hey. You’re really sick, it’s okay.” She patted him on the arm conciliatorily.

“God. I guess I am. That shit felt like it bounced my brain off my skull.” Normally he wouldn’t talk about his sneezes, especially not how they made him feel, but he was truly shaken.

“Think you can hold it together ‘til we get to your place?” She asked, resting her hand on his arm now. The gentle touch felt reassuring.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll b-be-! Hh’HUH!”

“Gonna sneeze again?”

Regrettably so, he really was. Panicking, he started to gasp into another buildup.

“I dohh-h’ont-!! I don’t h’hahh!! Hahhve any-! Any Tih’hh-! TTTTISHHHHIEWWWW!!” He exploded, this time jerking to his left to avoid spraying Robin and instead baptising the window beside him. The car lurched with him – Robin squeaked and grabbed for the steering wheel, pulling it towards herself to steady them back onto the road.

“Sorry, sorry, fuck!” Steve snuffled heavily. Mess was now dripping in twin streams over his upper lip, making him feel more disgusting than ever.

“No tissues?” Robin said, letting go of the wheel and wriggling in her seat, looking all around her for a spare. She came up empty, as Steve knew she would.

“Hold on,” She started, leaning back and angling herself between their seats as she reached into the back. “Might be something back here.”

Steve started to sniffle again but held himself back, anxious it would only trigger another spraying sneeze – one that would no doubt splatter the front window with its productiveness.

“I really don’t think – “

“Bingo!” Robin announced, audibly proud of herself. When Steve turned his head to look at the item she proffered towards him, his blush returned in earnest. Eddie’s bandana-slash-handkerchief. He must have left it there the last time he’d ridden with Steve. Come to think of it, when he’d driven Dustin, Lucas and Eddie to a campaign at the Wheeler house, the metalhead had been pretty…sensitive. He’d reassured them that it was just allergies, nothing to worry about. And it really hadn’t been all that much, but even a sniffle from Eddie was enough to send all the blood in Steve’s body rushing straight to fill his cock.

Not only had Eddie sneezed, a series of sweet little stifles that had Steve’s heart beating at 100mph, he’d sniffled and rubbed at his pinkened nostrils with the very bandana Robin was now pressing into the palm of a hand she had pried free from his grip on the steering wheel. He must have forgotten about it and left it there, sitting on the floor of Steve’s car, completely unaware of how intensely erotic said item was to the former jock. Had he known it was there, would he have had the courage to return it to Eddie himself? It seemed to burn in his palm. Eddie’s adorable, desperate sneezes had been sprayed and muffled into this fabric. It was too much – on top of the fever, this deviant spiral of thought left him feeling as though his brain was seconds away from leaking out his ears.

“…Steve?” Robin asked. He jumped, eyes flickering upwards from their fixed stare on the bandana to her confused expression, then swivelling straight back to the road before he really did make them crash.

“Yeah. Uhh. It’s Eddie’s.” He said, as if that meant anything at all to Robin. He heard her laugh.

“Uh, yeah, Steve, I figured. Unless black and skulls are your thing now.” She was teasing him, and not just about his fashion choices. He wasn’t sure how, but he sensed that she was, and it went deeper than his stupidly obvious statement.

“So…are you gonna use it?” She asked a moment later, and Steve remembered the entire reason she’d given it to him in the first place. He’d been focusing so hard on keeping the blood in his head and not in his cock that he was almost functioning on autopilot. He was suddenly very aware that the mess running down his face was moments away from ending up in his mouth.

“Yeah, fuck, sorry.” Desperate to avoid her scrutinous gaze, he hurriedly brought the fabric to his face and blew into it, hard. Arousal blossomed anew, thinking about Eddie doing the same – about every sneeze the fabric had been graced with now touching his face. It was driving him crazy. He wished he was alone in this moment – if he was, he’d pull off the road, haphazardly park, then jerk himself hard and fast until he was coming into the bandana, that sexy little piece of fabric that almost functioned like an indirect kiss.

Miraculously, he was only a little hard – enough that Robin wouldn’t notice, especially since dicks were a big enough source of amused repulsion for her that she was unlikely to be looking. He imagined the illness was helping to keep him soft; he really did feel shitty, increasingly shittier with every passing minute. He rounded off with one final, honking blow before sighing deeply – a weary, exhausted exhalation of defeat. Robin rubbed his arm reassuringly.

“Almost home.”

~~~~~~

In the twenty minutes that had passed since they’d walked through Steve’s front door, he had: sneezed at least 10 times; almost brained himself on the corner of his dresser as he attempted to wriggle out of his (admittedly pretty tight) jeans; coughed hard and long enough to leave his throat burning; and almost fallen down the stairs dressed in the comfortable loungewear Robin had insisted he put on.

In short, he wasn’t doing so hot. He hoped that this fast progression from awful to even worse would end up in his favour, aligning with the hope from earlier that he could burn through this sickness over the next couple of days, as if sprinting to the finish line. He really didn’t think he could handle feeling this terrible for much longer than that. It was as if every cell in his body was committing mutiny against him.

He lowered himself onto the living room couch on shaky legs and wrapped his arms around himself. He had no idea how he could be so hot but feel so cold. Like, okay, he understood the concept of a fever, but it still didn’t make the paradoxical sensation any easier to bear. He shivered miserably.

Robin bustled into the room a moment later, carrying a soft sherpa blanket in a scrambled heap, as if she’d yanked it from its neatly folded position in the main bedroom linen closet in a rush. Steve was certain this was absolutely the case.

“Heyy, buddy,” she started, still a little on edge but evidently happy to be done with that tumultuous car journey. “You should get under this blanket. You know what – lemme just…”

Initially thrusting the bundle of fabric at Steve, she seemed to change her mind and took it upon herself to wrap the blanket round him – even tucking it closer when it threatened to slip down his shoulders. Steve felt himself blushing a little and hoped that it wouldn’t be all too obvious on top of his fever-flushed complexion. He and Robin had cuddled together on occasion, sure – they’d held hands, too, discovering the contact felt reassuring and natural – but this level of intimacy and caretaking was something he’d never experienced – from anyone, really, but especially not from her. Her usual style was more sarcastic one-liners, name-calling and gentle shoves. To be fussed over by anyone was hard for him to accept, so it felt more than a little daunting at the hands of his best friend - purely because it felt so alien. One tentative glance at Robin confirmed that she must have been feeling pretty similarly awkward herself.

“Okay. I ordered us pizza – I know soup would probably be better, yeah, I realised that after I hung up the phone, shit – but anyway, that’s dinner. I’m gonna get you some water and Tylenol – maybe tea? Do you want tea?”

He couldn’t help but smile at how endearingly unnatural she was finding this. He knew if he was in her shoes she’d be wrapped up, propped up, fed and medicated 10 minutes ago. He’d still be brimming with anxious energy but that would be the natural result of the helplessness he’d feel that he couldn’t take away her discomfort on the spot. That she was trying, really, honestly trying, made his heart swell.

“Um, no tea, Robs. I don’t even know if we have any. Could you get me a cold compress for my head, maybe?”

Her eyes widened for a moment before they rolled back into her head dramatically, and she slapped a hand to her forehead.

“Uh, yes, of course I can do that – can’t believe I haven’t already. Sorry, Steve, just a minute – “ She was already halfway out the door by the time she finished.

“Robin, you don’t need to run – I’m okay!” He called out after her, regretting it almost immediately as his throat seized and he was thrown forward with a violent fit of coughing. He attempted to muffle it into one blanketed hand, shielding his mouth with the fabric. As if he didn’t feel disgusting enough already, he felt a tickle blossoming deep in his sinuses, so quickly that almost the moment he finished hacking he was gasping deeply in preparation for the oncoming explosion.

“Hh’Ohh goddDD’TTSSSHHHIEWWW!! HXXT’SHIEWWWW!! HAH’RRRRSHHHH’UU!! Oh…”

He shuddered and gingerly pulled his nose back from the now sodden fabric, clinging to the palm of his hand under the weight of the mess. Cursing, he scrambled to pull his other hand free of the blanket, snatching a handful of tissues from the box on the coffee table that he now regrettably wished he’d had half the mind to reach for sooner. Eddie’s bandana might have been a relief at first, but it was now so thoroughly sneezed and snorted into that it lay useless and dejected in Steve’s laundry hamper.

“Bless you, Dingus!” Robin called out from somewhere in the house.

He didn’t bother calling back, not wanting to trigger a repeat performance of that entirely disgusting display. At least the sneezes had felt halfway relieving – though very productive, the results of which he frantically scrubbed from the soggy patch of blanket. After he’d done all he could, he sighed and attempted to snuggle back into the couch cushions. ‘Attempt’ being the operative word, here – the Harrington household couches were much like everything else in the joint: carefully selected to signal a certain degree of cold and detached classiness, more like a showroom than a home. The Buckley household was much more inviting. Hell, even the couch at the Munson trailer was effortlessly comfortable, even with the creaky springs that prodded you as you moved.

He wondered what Eddie was doing now – planning for a campaign? Playing guitar? Some party, somewhere? He hadn’t spoken to him for a couple of days, come to think of it. He realised suddenly that he really wanted to talk to him. More than that, he just wanted to listen. Even with this persistent headache, he wanted to sit back just like this, eyes closed in surrender, and let Eddie ramble away about whatever he pleased. It didn’t really matter what was said as long as it was him saying it. These thoughts, though initially soothing and pleasant, very quickly became a source of gnawing emotional pain that Steve refused to address a moment longer. He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, feeling embarrassed and pathetic.

“Hey, I got that compress – you wanna – oh, you’re already leaning back, good.” Robin was at his side again, gently sweeping back his sweaty bangs and resting the cool, damp towel on his forehead. He felt the relief of it instantly, humming softly and focusing in on the sensation until the troubling thoughts of Eddie started to fade.

“That feel good?” Robin asked softly, sitting down next to him.

“Mm. Yeah. Th’nks.” He muttered, reaching a hand out of his cocoon and squeezing her wrist in appreciation.

“You wanna stay like that for a while ‘til the pizza gets here?”

“Mm’hmm.”

“Cool. Can I put something on? Anything you want. I’ll keep the volume low.”

“I don’t mind, if you don’t mind me not really paying attention.”

Robin laughed.

“As if you pay attention to anything I suggest, anyway.”

“Hey!” He smiled despite himself. “You can’t say I don’t try.”

“Oh, I can, and I will.”

She laughed again as he weakly punched her arm.

“Just stay with me, please?” He asked, a little shocked by the naked sincerity of the request as it tumbled out of him.

“Of course, Steve. Where else would I go?”

~~~~~~

After they’d finished their pizza – Steve far less than he would have liked, the normally delicious cheese seeming extra congealed and greasy – Robin had put on some artsy film that Steve tried his best to follow but was sure he’d have had a hard time with on a regular day, let alone one where he was starting to feel like jello in the form of a human. They gradually cuddled closer together, interrupted only by Steve twisting himself away from Robin each and every time he felt a sneeze coming on. It had reached the point where she’d told him to cut it out and sit still.

“You’re gonna give yourself whiplash on top of your cold. Seriously, stop.”

“But I’ll – end up sneezing on you.”

She’d sighed in defeat.

“Then do that. I’m catching this anyway.”

His cheeks burned a little at that.

“Are you sure? Wouldn’t that be like, super gross?”

“As long as you use the blanket or tissues, it won’t be all bad.”

And Steve had used both the blanket and the tissues – for a little while, anyway. He soon had his head in her lap, propped up by a cushion she’d added for his comfort. He wasn’t facing her, at least, so every germ-filled blast was aimed squarely at the table in front of them. If she felt the spray settling on her thighs or knees, she said nothing. To his utter delight, she’d started to rhythmically card a hand through his hair, making him feel for all the world like a spoiled little lapdog. Her endearing clumsiness was nowhere to be found as she expertly dragged her nails across his scalp. He’d have been asleep long ago if it wasn’t for this…t-tickle-!

“HH!! ‘GGTSCHEWWWW!! HARRRUSHHHH!! Hh, HH-!”

The third and final sneeze seemed to elude him, teasing him fiercely enough that his bleary eyes were beading with tears. He was more than grateful that Robin couldn’t watch his face as it crumpled – the way his nostrils twitched, mouth dropping open as his tongue pressed against his bottom teeth in a silent prayer, begging for the tickle to crest.

At last he was granted some reprieve, and three choppy inhales later he was barrelling forward, sneezing violently over Robin’s knees.

“hHAAHHH’GCK’TCHIEWWWWwww!!!”

He felt her other hand reach out and steady him by the shoulder as his body threatened to roll off the couch with the sheer force of it.

“Jesus, Dingus, Bless you!!”

“Ugg. Tha’gk you…” He snuffled miserably. The sneeze had felt amazing but he still felt bad about repeatedly spraying his best friend with an endless torrent of germs.

A bundle of tissues was suddenly hovering before his eyes as Robin held them out over him. He took them gratefully, muttering a small ‘thanks’ before blowing as hard as he possibly could. It was gnarly – loud, thick and rounded off with a honk not unfamiliar to the trumpet warm-ups Robin had subjected him to as she practiced in the guest room last night.

“God, Steve. Talk about man flu.” She patted his shoulder good-naturedly.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He meant it, too.

“No, you’re good. Don’t even worry about it. Just try not to die on me, okay? You’re heavy.”

“Promise.”

The glorious head massage resumed, and finally, blessedly, Steve felt himself slipping into a heavy sleep.

~~~~~

Robin pulled Steve’s bedroom door shut with a gentle click – not that her efforts at silence would matter, given the heart-breakingly congested snores Steve was already emitting from under his duvet. She headed to the bathroom and started her nighttime routine. Looking at herself in the stupidly ornate mirror of Steve’s guestroom ensuite, she noticed she looked just as tired as she felt – maybe moreso. She knew it was too early to be catching Steve’s cold  – had to be, right? The incubation period was just too short. Realistically, she just looked worn down from the strain of an entire evening of worrying about Steve – who had, no doubt in her mind, possibly the worst cold on the face of the planet.

She finished washing her face, almost forgetting to rinse it properly as her mind wandered. Was he really that sick, or was he just one of those men for whom a tiny little bug brought them to their knees in one fell swoop? It was probably the latter – though he really did look, and sound, miserably unwell. The temperature emanating from his body as he’d rested in her lap had been scorching – she’d been sweltering in the combined warmth of the pleasant May evening and Steve’s furnace-like condition. Steve hadn’t noticed, at least; if he had, he’d been kind enough to ignore the massive pit stains that dampened her t-shirt.

She’d let him sleep for a while – 45 minutes, just until her movie ended and her legs had fallen asleep – then she’d woken him up with a gentle hand to the forehead. 10 minutes later, she’d successfully helped a groggy, snotty Steve up to his bedroom. That they’d nearly tripped heading upstairs as Steve buckled forward with several wrenching sneezes was just a minor inconvenience. Once he’d gotten into bed and she’d tucked the blanket up to his chin, she’d returned with the damp washcloth – using ice water this time, draping it over his burning forehead. He was shockingly pliant, incredibly obedient – the total lack of hyper-independence and stubbornness a sure sign of how poorly he was feeling.

After brushing her teeth she padded back downstairs, locating the living room landline. She had a feeling Steve would only feel worse tomorrow, and she’d underestimated how many meds and tissues he would need. She could probably bike out to the Drugstore herself, but something about Steve’s condition made her want to be in the house with him at all times. Call it trauma, separation anxiety, whatever – it was tough seeing him hurt and weak, and in their relatively short friendship it felt like he’d had decades worth of bad luck. A lifetime of it, probably. And besides, what if his dumb ass sneezed himself down the stairs and broke his neck when she was gone? No. It was too risky.

She dialed the familiar number and waited. The nearby clock indicated it was about 1:45 AM. The middle of the night for some, but not for who she had in mind.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Eddie?”

“Hey, Birdie! What’s got you calling little old me at this frightful hour?”

She smiled despite herself. His charm was undeniable - as cheesy as it often was, it was still disarming and soothing. She was glad to have had the fortune of getting to know him under more…relaxed circumstances following their initial meeting, where she’d been convinced she’d found the only other person more prone to floundering, nervous breakdowns than herself.

“Figured you’d be awake for at least another 3 hours. Can you talk for a minute?”

“Sure, shoot. I was just fucking with my guitar anyway.”

“Kinky.”

“Watch it, Buckley.”

She grinned, knowing he’d be doing just the same on the other end of the line.

“I actually need to ask you for a favour, if that’s okay?”

“Oh?” He sounded pointedly curious, like this was the last thing he’d expected her to say. “Are you okay? Need a ride, or something?”

“No, no, I’m fine. I’m at Steve’s – remember I’ve been staying here this week?”

“Oh, yeah. Speaking of Stevie boy, how is he? Haven’t heard from him in, like, three days?”

She smirked. The two of them thought they were so fucking subtle with this shit, and as much as she wanted to let them figure it out on their own, she couldn’t help but poke the proverbial bear every now and then.

“Three days?? My god, that must be like three months in Eddie time.”

“Fuck off!” He was laughing, at least.

“That’s just the thing though, actually. It’s Steve, he’s – “

“What’s wrong? Is he hurt??”

She was so glad he couldn’t see her face right now. He was painfully, painfully transparent and it was the funniest, sweetest thing.

“He’s fine, you geek – not in any immediate danger. He’s just sick. Got the worst case of man flu probably, like, ever.”

Eddie was silent long enough that Robin wondered if their call had been disconnected.

“Eddie? You there?”

“Oh – yeah, sorry, just spacing out a little, ha ha!”

The forced laugh was…strange. But she chose to ignore it – he was probably stoned, at any rate.

“So, since he’s sick, I was wondering if tomorrow you could possibly pick up some meds and stuff for him? I really don’t want to leave him alone like this. He sneezed so hard before he nearly threw both of us down the stairs. If I leave him unattended who knows how else he might sneeze himself to an early demise?”

She ended her ramble with a small laugh, hoping to amuse Eddie and bring some levity to the situation. Instead, she was greeted with that same awkward silence, though it expired a little faster than last time.

“Oh man, that sounds – yeah, that would totally suck. Poor guy.”

It wasn’t the raucous laughter she’d been expecting at all. Eddie sounded – could it really be? Embarrassed?

“Are you okay? You sound weird.” She asked.

“I’m-! I’m fine, Birdie. Just. Pretty high.”

She’d figured as much, but somehow, she didn’t quite buy it. Whatever. Eddie was great, but she still didn’t fully understand him and his often confoundingly strange mannerisms just yet.

“Anyway. You think you can do that for me? I’d majorly appreciate it.”

“Yeah, yeah – I can totally do that. What time should I – drop stuff off?”

“Honestly, before lunch? The rate at which Steve is going through tissues is worthy of scientific observation.”

Eddie offered a reedy laugh at that – she’d expected that attempt at humour to dive like before, been ready for another awkward little pause. She would have almost preferred that to this obviously forced attempt at normal laughter. It wasn’t as if Eddie didn’t have a sense of humour, or know how to laugh like a human being, so? Man, he must be really high.

“So…I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be there. I…probably won’t come inside. I mean, don’t want to disturb poor old Harrington, y’know?”

She blinked.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind?”

“Really, Robin, if I want to graduate in a month, I can’t get sick. I won’t face celebrating my 21st year still stuck in that fucking dump.”

It made sense, what he was saying. But again, she just didn’t buy that that was the sole reason for this extremely out of character avoidance of Steve.

“Sure. Well, I’ll see you, then.”

“See you tomorrow, Birdie. Sleep tight.”

She hung up on him, taking a second to stand there and letting the absurdity of his behaviour wash over her before she made her way back upstairs. She was far too tired to even attempt to analyse the inner machinations of Eddie fucking Munson right now – tired enough that even Steve’s woeful snoring couldn’t stop her from passing out the second her head hit the pillow.

[2angxlic]

ENOLA HOLMES X FEM!READER ꩜

•°. *࿐⋆.

triggers : none really! just a fluff <3

mentions : lightening , thunderstorm, reader is dating enola! terms of endearment ;] ♥︎ ♥︎

synopsis : in which, the reader is a bit frightened of thunderstorms and enola comforts them <3

(sorry for typos! word count : 671 :)

ᝰ ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.

Rain pattered roughly against the window of the flat you and your girlfriend recently rented. Thunder roughly clapped on and off, and even with the curtains closed you could still see the bright flashes of lightning. You weren’t scared of many things, no, but thunder storms always made you feel the need to seek out comfort. You tried to sleep through it, but every time you heard the loud booming noise of the cracks of lightning you cowered into yourself.

You got out of bed and walked towards the kitchen where Enola was still up working. Ever since her detective agency got so famous shes been working on cases back to back. And that meant, many many late nights. She looked exhausted and for lack of a better word, burnt out. You walked up to her and placed a hand on her back and began to rub small circles.

“Nola, it’s getting super late. How about you come lay down with.” You yawned. She just continued to shuffle through papers and write small notes on a little pad.

“I have to just finish this paper and then I’ll be with you shortly, my love. I have tea brewing on the stove and you’re welcome to stay.” Whenever she called you little nicknames like: my love, baby, sweetheart, your heart always melted. She never allowed herself to be vulnerable with anyone, but you. You met Enola about a year ago on the train and ever since that chaotic day your lives have been intertwined.

You walked over and took a seat next to her as you laid your head down on your arms. “No, I think I’ll sit with you.” You tried to doze off into some sort of a soft sleep, but a moment too soon the thunder clapped and you jumped.

Enola tore her eyes from her work and looked at you, “Did you just jump?” She chuckled.

“No I simply just got a bit startled..” you trailed off embarrassingly as you reached for her hand. But when the thunder struck again, and this time with lightning as well, there was no denying you fear.

“You definitely did just jump.” She teased.

“No I certainly did not!” You looked away bashfully. In this moment you could not meet her eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little storm?” She read your expression and the answer was clear. You looked up to meet her eyes and put on a brave face. “No I am not.”

She only tilted her head slightly to the side and have you a sly smile that said, yea sure!

“Okay, maybe I am just a tad afraid,” you huffed, “Can we please just go lay down.” You pleaded as you locked eyes with the brunette as you grabbed both of her hands. She leaned over and pursed her lips placing a gentle kiss on your cheek.

“I promise, as soon as I finish I’ll be with you.” She whispered gently. She was so close to you your noses almost touched. But, your head hung low and you let out a dramatic sigh as you got up from your chair and made your way back to the bedroom.

ᝰ ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.

You’d only been laying down a short while before Enola came in, still unable to let sleep come.—- She slipped into bed next to you and wrapped an arm around your waist, nuzzling her face into the crook of your neck. Her legs overlapped with yours and as a cold breeze blew through the window, you had to admit this was great.

“What happened to your paper work?” You whispered in a mocking tone.

“I finished early.”

“Mhm..”

“I wanted to be with you—- because you were oh so scared.” She said the last part with a laugh.

“Then how should I thank my hero.” I bantered.

“Maybe a kiss? She said confidently. I rolled over and gave her a kiss on the lips that lasted a little longer than intended. Her lips still tasted like the sweet raspberry tea she made a few minutes prior, and her arm was still on your waist. “How was that Prince charming.” You asked now hovering over her.

“Perfect.”

[wild-lavender-rose]

The Miner’s Granddaughter

Prompt 23- Miner

Pairing: Thorin x fem!reader

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: You come to Thorin’s aid in a rowdy tavern, getting yourself injured in the process. Thorin is only too happy to repay the kindness.

Warnings: Tavern setting, fighting, injury (bloody cut)

     The tavern was loud, but then it was always loud during this time of the evening. You carried your tray of frothy, spilling mugs and tried your best to keep out of everyone’s reach, but once the men downed their sixth or seventh pint it was nearly impossible to save yourself from being poked and pulled.

     “How about another one, darlin’?” Asked a tall man with mead dripping from his beard, his dark eyes roving over your figure.

     “You’ve had too many, dear.” You responded, making the pet name sound like a warning for him to back off. “It’s high time you and your friends went home.”

     “Just leave me be,” said another voice, dark and heavy, yet so calm that you turned to look for the source. How could anyone be so calm in the middle of this insanity?

    “What’s a little dwarf like you doing out from under your rock?” A man known to cause trouble was looming over a stranger, a handsome stranger that you had never seen before.

     “I warn you, let me have my drink in peace.”

     “Why don’t you just go back from where you came from, you filthy miner,”

     “Hey!” You set your tray down with a thud, jaw setting as the man teetered around to look at you. “Watch your tongue, or else I’ll remove it from your head.”

     The man burst into laughter, mead and spit spraying all around the room. “Threats from a pretty barmaid don’t scare me.”

     “That’s a pity then,” you stalked towards him. “I hoped you be a bit brighter than that.”

     And then you proceeded to punch him in the face.

     The man stumbled back, a meaty hand plastered to his face as blood spewed from his nose.

     “Hey!” His friend stood up, a dagger in his hand. “Do you know who you just insulted?”

     “An idiot, by the looks of it.” You shot a glance at the stranger, who was regarding you with an air of surprise and bemusement. His sword was in hand, however he made no move to protect you, instead watching you take care of yourself.

     The second man lurched forward. You met him head on, blocking his punches and trying to duck his swinging dagger. He gave a sudden twist that you weren’t anticipating, causing his blade to slice across your arm. You hissed, anger fueling your fists as you punched the man right to the floor where he lay unconscious.

     You blew hair out of your eyes and surveyed the room. “Who’s next?”

     No one seemed eager to volunteer. In fact, several men were leaving, causing the noise level to drop to a pleasant background hum.

     Chest heaving, you turned and looked at the stranger. “Are you all right?”

     He gave a nod, gaze moving down to your arm. “You’re clearly not.”

     You shrugged. “It matters not.”

     “Why would you fight for me like that? You don’t even know who I am.”

     “My grandfather lived and worked as a miner under the mountain, back when dwarves were not scattered as they are now. He fell in love with a human and had a son who fell in love with a human as well.” You made a gesture at yourself. “And here I am.”

     “Here you are.” The stranger gave another nod, this one seeming much more formal than the first. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Thorin, son of,”

     “My king,” you breathed.

     A small smile crossed Thorin’s features. You went on your knees before him, head bowed, traditions and custom instilled in you by your father and grandfather. While you had spent most of your life lamenting how short you were, you now felt embarrassingly tall before Thorin. As if your height mocked him, the king of all dwarves.

     “There’s no need for that.” Thorin sheathed his sword and crossed to you, his gaze meeting yours when you looked up at him. “Your wound will need tending.” He held out his hand. “Allow me.”

     Your heart fluttered as you took his hand. “Yes, my king.”

And that was the night you and Thorin fell in love.

Fanfic Masterlist

[writingblackpink]

Leather

genre: smut

word count: 2.2k

pairing: lisa x reader

teasing glances with badass!Lisa at a bar lead to something more spicy🌶

A/N: I’ve had this idea for about a week and literally couldn’t write anything else until it was finished. Let me know what y’all think!

- 

She leaned with her back against the brick, knee bent with one foot propped. The puddle on the ground in front of her reflected an identical image back to her. You could see it yourself even from feet away. The air was cold enough to see her breath and you watched the smoke float from the cigarette placed loosely between her red lips, her piercing gaze and unreadable expression catching yours as you walked past her through the entrance of the bar. She looked away just as she blew out a cloud of smoke in the opposite direction. Something about her was enticing to you. 

Leather jacket, ripped jeans, black hair. She looked like the kind of fun you were looking to have tonight. 

Making your way into the crowded bar, your friends moved straight to the bartender, and you followed. Sure, it was “girls night”, but you knew what you were there for. The blaring bass made it hard to hear as your friend leaned in to ask if you wanted a drink. You nodded, and she turned back to the bartender. You, on the other hand, were on the hunt. You turned away, scanning the club for anything that would catch your eye. But before you had much time to think, a drink was being pushed in one hand, and your group of friends was taking the other, forcing you to follow them to a table in a quieter corner of the bar. 

Your friends were loud, trying to have conversations over the roaring music, and instead of trying to figure out what they were talking about, you zoned out, peering over their shoulders and watching the crowd behind them. That’s when you spotted her for the second time that night. You were seated on opposite ends of the room, and you weren’t sure for how long you watched her but you couldn’t pull yourself away from the way the corner of her lips ticked up in the most subtle grin, or the way she spoke animatedly to the people around her. You longed to be a part of that conversation. You sat like that for a while before she met your gaze, wiping the expression from her face as she leaned over her crossed legs, biting her lip and flashing you a wink. The room suddenly felt too hot too quick, and you had to break eye contact to cool off. Okay, two can play this game. 

Another drink and some time later, you were pulled out to the dance floor with your friends. The music sucked, but you were riding a nice buzz and didn’t mind it too much. Your friend spun you around, placing her hands on your hips as you began to grind into her. That’s when you spotted her for a third time that night. Now alone, she was sitting in a different corner of the room sipping a drink, and her eyes were dark and smoldering, beaming straight into your soul. Taking this as your turn to play, you made a show of bending over, shaking your ass as your friend dropped her hand against it. As you flipped your hair back to stand again, you noticed the girl was still watching, expressionless. You licked your lips and blew her a kiss and you were impressed with her blatant ogling. It was nothing that would’ve been seen as anything but playful by the people around you, but you were hoping it had the intended effect on the girl. 

She got up from her seat, and you kept your gaze on her when you realized she was making her way over to you, hoping she wasn’t actually going somewhere else. You didn’t want this game to be over just yet. You brought your eyes back up to meet hers just as she crowded your space. She paused before taking a step forward, close enough that her lips were nearly touching your ear. You could feel her breath tickling your neck, sending blood rushing straight to your cheeks. It made your body feel like it was on fire. It made you feel like you were no longer in control.

"You've been staring at me all night. Rather than undressing me with your eyes, do you want to go somewhere private and take it off for real?" She punctuated this with a swipe of her tongue along the shell of your ear, immediately causing your eyes to squeeze shut and your thighs to clench. The heavy stares shared all night got you pretty riled up, and with her tongue finally making contact with some part of your body, you were sure your panties were flooded. 

“I, uh —” And she cut you off as she pulled back just far enough so that she could look into your eyes, noses nearly touching. “Don’t lie, baby, I know you want it, and let me tell you a secret,” she leaned back in to whisper directly into your ear, every other sound going silent, “I want it too.”

At that, something snapped in you. Sure, you came here wanting to take someone home for the night, but this would do. You wanted some relief, and quick. You needed her. 

Eyes darkening, you grabbed her hand, pulling her through the crowd of sweaty people unaware of what you were about to do. Too inebriated to take interest in a passerby. You pushed through, not even stopping to apologize when you brushed too closely against others. All you could feel was her hand in yours, the tension where your arm pulled her weight behind you, and all you could think about was how you needed her to take care of the growing mess between your thighs. 

Finally making it to the small bathroom at the back of the bar, you turned to close and lock the door before pinning her to it, clashing your lips together. The kiss was filthy, too much teeth and tongue, but you didn’t care, putting your hands in her hair to pull her impossibly close. You focused on the way her hands rested on your hips, touching the skin that peeked out below your shirt, burning holes there. The air between you was thick and humid, laced with her expensive perfume and something that was just her. You couldn’t get enough. Moving from her lips with a gasp, you placed your lips along her jaw, moving lower as you went. Your hands slid down her body slowly, slowly, tracing the outline of her body as they went. You rested your hands on the button of her jeans as you continued sucking a spot just behind her ear. She let out a whimper that let you know she was as tightly wound as you were at that moment.  

“Hey, you’re not even going to ask me my name first?” her voice sounded strained with the effort of holding back a moan. You paused for the briefest moment, trying to sense if she was actually offended, but continued as she leaned her head away from you to give you more space to work, giving you the green light. Your fingers teasingly danced around the button on her pants for a little longer as you listened to her quiet gasps and heavy breathing as you brushed your lips across every part of her neck you could reach. Just as you popped the button open, she switched your places, pushing you against the door, her hands pinning your hips against it. 

“It’s Lisa, by the way,” she whispered against your lips before crashing them together once again, and you moved your arms to push her jacket off her shoulders, listening for the sound of leather hitting the ground. Her left hand moved to bring your arms together above your head as she pulled away once again. Your back instinctively pushed off the door, not so subtly chasing her lips. 

“Oh, and no touching.” You let out a whine into her mouth as she connected your lips once again. Her free hand moved to unzip your pants, not bothering to push them down as she shoved her hand in. She was teasing you, resting her hand just above where you needed it most, causing the heat to grow between your legs, the tension growing thick within yourself. If she didn’t do something soon, you were bound to snap. 

“Please, Lisa, just fuck me.” You gasped out between kisses, and it must have been what she was looking for because her hand slid down until her fingers made contact with your clit. 

At the first contact, you broke the kiss, a gasp turning into a needy moan. White hot pleasure exploding in your vision as you screwed your eyes shut, too focused on what Lisa was doing with her hands. She moved to work on your neck, and you were sure she was going to leave marks. You didn’t care. Your needy whimpers seemed to spur her on as she circled your clit faster, finding pleasure in your pleasure as you felt her muffle a groan against your neck, matching every sound that left you. Her movements were pushing you to the edge embarrassingly quick, but you needed just a little more. “Inside,” you gasped out, hoping she heard you and would catch on. Your brain was mush, and you couldn’t think past that. 

Thankfully, she did, and you felt her push her hand farther down to slide one finger into you, experimentally finding a rhythm before sliding in a second. “You’re so wet for me,” she said, her voice low, almost unrecognizable. Your heart thrummed in your chest, threatening to burst as your breathing became erratic. Lisa abandoned the work on your neck and traded it for just panting into your neck as her left hand held your arms above your head and her right hand worked in your pants. Her hand’s movements were constricted, but at this angle you were able to grind your clit against the heel of her hand perfectly, causing you to gasp at every thrust. It didn’t take long before you were right up on that edge, and you knew Lisa could sense it in the way she sped up her movements, in the way she groaned louder against your neck, how she tightened her grip around the hands above your head. 

Your body tensed for a few long moments before everything came crashing down, clenching around her fingers as the contact with her hand helped you through your orgasm. Your eyes shot open and all you saw, all you could think about was how good this felt. You let out a few contented sighs as she helped you through it. 

Everything after happened so quickly you barely had time to catch your breath. Your arms were now wrapped around Lisa, and you surged forward in a way that had your legs tangled together, one of yours slipping in between hers. She pushed into you, starting to grind on you. Catching on, you moved your hands down to rest on her ass, guiding her smoothly against you. Her breath came in hot, short clips, and it couldn’t have been more than a minute before you heard the loudest moan from her yet, her body trembling against yours, knees giving out just as you moved to pull her up. 

You stayed like that for a while, the only sound in the bathroom was the two of you trying to catch your breath while the music boomed on the other side of the door. 

“I’m Y/N, by the way.” Lisa pulled back, resting her forehead against yours, looking into your eyes. You could feel her damp fringe against your forehead, and you were reminded about how stifling the air was between you. 

“Nice to meet you.” She whispered once again against your lips, not daring to pull away just yet. “Would you be interested in doing that again sometime?” She asked, eyes not leaving yours. 

You grinned, “Only if you take me out to dinner first,” and you meant it as a joke at first, but was surprised when she pushed back to stand up straight, muttering an “okay” as she took out her phone and clicked through a few screens before handing it over to you to put your number in. 

“I’d take you home tonight if I didn’t think my friends would get mad for ditching them.” She added while you typed, quietly adding a “same” as you agreed with her. 

“Anyways, I’ll, uh, see you around?” The confident Lisa you saw earlier leaning up against the side of the building was now gone, replaced with this Lisa, nervous and fidgeting with the hem of her jacket as she picked it up and put it back on, avoiding your gaze. It made you chuckle a bit internally at the irony that that was the only piece of clothing you actually got to take off of her.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” You smiled back at her and she gave you a smile and a nod, moving around you to exit the bathroom. You stood dumbfounded for a few moments before adjusting your clothes and fixing your appearance in the mirror, hearing your phone ding where it sat in your back pocket. 

It was a text from an unknown number, but once you opened it you knew exactly who it was from. 

“Hey sexy ( ˘ ³˘)♥” it read, and you couldn’t believe this Lisa was the same one that you saw smoking outside earlier, expressionless and unreadable.

Staring at the screen for a moment before typing out a reply and hitting send, you felt your heart flip in your chest. Yeah, this is exactly what you were looking for tonight. 

[commanderserwin]

rainfall.

✧ characters. erwin smith x reader

✧ summary. stubborn, clingy, and sick reader AND erwin takes care of them ??? (°◡°♡)

✧ notes. it was cold and raining a couple of days ago so,,, i was like ??? let me make the Most Used Scenario and make my heart happy ♡ enjoy! 

Hot water? Check. There’s hot water in your pail now. 

Tea? Check. He knows how to make your favorite tea— he’s got it all memorized. 

Medicine? Check. The drops are all on the table, waiting for you to take them. 

Blankets? Check. There’s plenty of blankets by the edge of your bed already. 

Erwin nibbled on his lip, going over the things he has placed in your room while you sneezed loud enough for him to hear. You insisted to shower despite his pleas not to, but you dropped your wet clothes by the door and padded towards the bathroom while you visibly shivered as Erwin wrapped your body in a towel. 

“Need anything else?”

The shower stopped, while you let out a small and suppressed sneeze. “I am fine, Erwin.” 

Erwin knew by the tone of your voice that your patience was already wearing thin, but he couldn’t blame himself for being over worried because you rode back to the headquarters from the farmlands while it rained so hard he couldn’t concentrate enough to finish his work. One minute, it was hot and sunny— the next, it was cold and pouring. 

The next next minute? He welcomed you into the headquarters, feeling your drenched clothes stick to his own, as he walked you towards your own room.

“Should I go boil more hot water for you?” Erwin stood by the door frame, careful to not get too close to not be splashed by the water. He saw your pinked nose and ears, and worry washed over him again while you stood away from the running water. 

One look, and he retreated away. “I’ll be outside if you need me.” 

Once you heard the click of the door, you let out the biggest sneeze in your body that it took a few seconds for you to breathe right again. It was stupid, you admit to yourself, riding back during heavy rain pour, but you wanted to get back as soon as possible. 

Sneezing, sniffling, heavy eyes, aching extremities— all signs of being sick that you refused to accept. 

The bed looked too tempting that you wanted to drop into it right away, but you forced yourself to clothed yourself no matter how lousy it was, just enough for you to fall back into bed, cocooning yourself with the blanket on your bed. The door swung gently, showing Erwin carrying a tray of streaming liquids while you propped yourself by the elbows, embarrassingly covering yourself with the blanket. 

“I’m fine, Erwin,” you mumbled, and even you find it hard to believe your words. Sneeze. “Please.” 

“Tea and medicine,” Erwin placed the tray on the table, sitting meekly by your body on the bed. His hands found the tips of your blanket, slowly revealing your tired face while you scowled at him for caring. “Drink.” 

He leaned down slowly, placing his calloused hands over your cheeks once more, while he kissed your forehead. His blue eyes were stern yet soft, and you pulled yourself up with his help as he handed the mug. “Just one sip.” 

“Okay,” you nodded, holding the warm cup between your hands, while you blew on the steam. Erwin stayed beside you, watching you drink little by little— until you handed it empty. 

“Is it good?” Erwin asked, smiling gently while you exchanged the empty cup with medicine. 

“My favorite,” you sneezed once, twice, avoiding his eyes while you blew on your nose on the napkin. “Thank you.” 

“Anything for you.” 

“You should probably change too,” you said, pointing at his drying clothes, “Don’t want you to get sick too.” 

“I will,” he responded, pushing you down by the shoulders while he tucked you under your blanket, pulling them up to your chin. “Rest.” 

You nodded, turning on your side as you watched Erwin pick up your messes, guilt feeling your insides as he cleaned your room. Picking up your wet clothes, placing your boots upside down, folding the harnesses, even hanging your jacket, coat, and poncho on the spare chairs to dry them out. 

“You don’t have to do that,” your voice was muffled by your squished cheeks as you pulled your blanket higher, curling up on your bed. “Leave it for tomorrow morning. I’ll do it. Go change.” 

Erwin didn’t say anything, only smiled back, picked up the tray as he exited your room without a single word. He hurried his way back into your room, washing the cup and returning the tray while he skipped your room to get into his— changing his shirt and grabbing his work and candles away. He could now finally finish his work now that you are here— but he wonders how long it’ll last. 

He knows this by now. You would usually be stubborn and serious, even when he dragged you inside the headquarters, listening and watching you refuse his help, pretending you were fine. Then, after a while— your soft voice would grace his ears, while you longed for him. 

He tried to tiptoe back into your room, locking the door behind him while he excused himself for the rest of the day. No matter how quiet his steps were, it was muffled by the heavy rain pour but still, you opened your eyes at the way the floors creaked under his weight. 

“Are you back now?” 

“Yes,” he answered softly— making his voice be a little gentler to not disrupt the sleep clouding your eyes. He raised his papers, walking towards the table, “Is it okay if I work here?” 

“Yes, please,” you whispered, watching how he slowly pulled out the chair for him to settle down. He was way across the room, starting to pick up his ink as he looked once over you. You sheepishly smiled, noting the distance— and you wanted him near. “Come closer.” 

“Do you want me to drag the table closer to your bed?” 

“Please.” 

Erwin chuckled softly, pushing the table and dragging the chair as he placed it beside your bed. He sat leveled at your head rest, so that he could peek once in a while if you were okay as he worked. “Is this good?” 

“Closer.” 

He couldn’t help but smile while you shied away in your blanket, making him stand up as he placed more blankets on top of yours. The weighted feeling made you satisfied— but you couldn’t help but ask for more.

“Erwin?” 

“Yes?”

“Will you please hold my hand?” 

He looked at his situation, his dominant hand on your side— but he couldn’t say no. He engulfed your hand in his, while he tried to sign away the papers as best as he could. Erwin looked at you, as he placed his pen down. “Why aren’t you asleep?” 

“Looking at you,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. 

He bend down, cheeks burning as he realized you were staring, his lips aiming for yours for comfort but you placed a firm hand on his chest, playing with his bolo. “Why?” 

“No kiss,” you pulled away, scrunching up your nose while you sniffled. “I don’t want you to get sick.” 

But he couldn’t take no for an answer. He closed the gap between your lips, smiling against the kiss while you kissed him back longer than usual. 

“No kiss?” He teased, pecking your lips once more. “Are you sure?” 

It was the one on your forehead, on your nose, between your brows, and on your cheeks that made you wrap an arm around his neck, pulling him with you while you giggled, “Okay, okay, enough!” 

“Sure?” He pecked your lips. 

“… one more.” 

Erwin placed a few more kisses, but he pulled away as you reluctantly let go of his hand, placing your own underneath the pillow. He watched your eyes flutter close, still with a small smile on your lips as you sniffled here and there, filling the silence with your small sneezes as you tried to sleep. He looked once in a while, making sure you were getting your rest as he continued on his work. He scribbled as neatly as he could now, getting scared a little by the thunder, but he worked nonetheless. 

It was silent, and he was grateful that you have gone to sleep. 

Put aside all the rustling of the blankets, the toss and turning— he thought you were asleep by the corner of his eyes. His pen scratched the paper numerous times, enamored with the words and reports all together with the chorus of the rain pouring down. Erwin was too oblivious again with your staring and smiling on the bed while you snuggled with your blankets. 

“Erwin?”

He turned his head, a brow slightly raise as he looked back at you. A tinge on his cheeks was evident again as he propped his chin on top of his hand, trying to hide it against the dimmed candlelights. Erwin watch you move closer to one side of the bed, making space for him. He started capping his ink and piling the papers on the table, pushing his chair away as he blew on the candle. 

“Yes?”

The rain still poured, heavy and cold— and even he feels cold. He stood up, removing his jacket and placing it on the chair, as he waited for you. Erwin watched you slightly pout, sniffling, as he proceeded to take his boots off. Your voice was faint against the rain, but he heard it loud and clear. 

“Will you please hold me?”

[hey-there-love]

Foolish

Summary: Being the new kid is hard right? Try moving across the world to attend the elite hero course at U.A. Unfortunately following the path of straight and narrow is difficult when you find a blonde ball of death throwing twists in it. Nobody said it was easy. New experiences, new friends, new interests...what could go wrong?

Chapter 2: Oh You’re Feisty

Content Warnings: Adult Language, Cringy Situations

Word Count: 2.2K

Once you gathered yourself, you opened the door and peaked around, searching for any sign of life. Grateful you were by yourself, you began to search for towels. After they were located, you washed the grime from the long flight away.

Quickly you got dressed, brushed your hair, and began to apply a light coat of mascara. You began to sing to yourself to calm your nerves about meeting your new class mates.

“Are you singing Ariana Grande? I love her!” Someone squealed, rushing into the bathroom. You jumped at the voice and managed to hit your lid with the whole mascara wand. You clutched your chest and whipped your head around.

“Hey look! Twins!” The pink girl cracked a joke. You embarrassingly horse laughed because she wasn’t wrong. She had sweet deep eyes that were black and brown.

“I swear I think I’ll have a heart attack before I even start my classes here.” You shook your head and inspected the damage to your makeup. You ran your finger under the faucet and began to scrub your eyelid making the simple error into a huge smudge. You groaned and glanced back to her with pleading eyes.

“Here,” she began digging into a drawer, pulling out a pack of makeup wipes. “Uraraka usually keeps these in here.”

“I’m assuming you’re Mina, my new neighbor right?” You questioned, thankful as you wiped the makeup off.

“You’d be correct! It’s good to meet you Y/N. I can already tell we’re going to be fast friends. Cute jeans by the way.”

“Thanks! I got these from H&M. I literally bought every color , so if you ever wanna borrow a pair let me know.”

“I’ll definitely take you up on that offer! Are you ready? Dinner is almost done and I figured I’d come check on you.” She responded, taking a seat on the counter top next to you.

“I am. Just let me drop my stuff off in my room.” You said opting to give up on the mascara after your incident. You finished primping and picked your things up.

As you walked back to your room she began to question your previous statement. “Who else gave you a heart attack? You’ve only been here for an hour!”

“Oh, actually I was heading into the bathroom and I guess I wasn’t paying attention and I crashed right into a guy. I felt so bad.” You said, unlocking your room and setting your things down on the desk.

“It was probably Kirishima! He came back downstairs whenever I got up. ” She giggled and leaned against your door frame.

“Well he definitely laughed at me after he pulled my underwear off of my shoulder!” You said slapping yourself in the forehead.

“Oh my gosh!” Mina squealed. “He never said anything so I guess your secret it safe. I hope they were old lady underwear for his sake. He definitely gets flustered easily.”

“He didn’t blush in the least and it was a thong! I don’t even think I could look him in the eye! Wait what does he look like?” You asked examining yourself for a final time and spraying a little bit of body spray.

“Spiked red hair, sharp teeth, the cutest boy wonder smile ever.” She gushed. That definitely wasn’t who you encountered.

“No it wasn’t him then, he had a permanent look of disgust. ” Her eyes grew wide and your face dropped. “What?”

“KATSUKI FREAKING BAKUGO TOUCHED YOUR PANTIES?” She hollered, making your ears ring. You shushed her not wanting to relive the experience.

“Not so loud! I don’t need everyone to know about my underwear!” You cried out , cheeks heating up.

“That’s hilarious. King of Murder and Destruction Bakugo. Laid hands. On. Your. Thong.” You swore she was about fall over laughing.

“Do you think he said anything?” You covered your face, completely and utterly mortified.

“Maybe just Kirishima because they’re best bros, but he despises everyone else so you have nothing to worry about!”

You groaned. “Can we please forget that ever happened and go?” Pleading as you pushed her out the door.

“Sure thing bestie my lips are sealed.” Mina replied, mimicking a zip and locking her mouth. She then looped her arm through yours and made you skip to the elevator.

“Can you give me a quick run down of what I’m about to walk into?” You questioned as she pressed the button on the elevator.

“Well, the girls are the most awesome people you’ll ever meet. You’ve met Momo, but there’s Jiro, who has a great taste in tunes but kinda moody. Uraraka, the biggest ray of sunshine on the planet. Hakegure, who has the best personality ever. Tsu, is a little different, but is hilarious, and of course the greatest person you’ll ever meet...me!” She laughed, squeezing your arm.

“And the guys...well they’re guys of course. Kirishima, a total sweetheart and a feminist might I add. Midoryia, nice kid but villain magnet. Ayoma, he’s from France and I think he’s on the DL if you catch my drift. Absolutely at all costs stay away from Mineta. The little grape asshole with give you permanent taste of vomit in your mouth.” You crinkled your nose at the last comment. She continued, “Todoroki, which is the number one pro her Endeavor’s son and a total hottie.” She wagged her eyebrows making you laugh. “Shinso, who is the strong quiet type. Tokoyami, very respectful, the type you’d take home for Sunday dinner.”

“There’s Sero, he gives great advice he’s almost like the class therapist. Koda is a modern day Snow White and has the cutest bunny ever. Sato bakes like it’s nobody’s business and will literally make you gain 10 pounds. Then finally there’s the angry Pomeranian Bakugo.” Mina finished finally. You were pretty sure she just ran out of breath after trying to explain to you quickly before the elevator doors opened.

Mina guides you through the threshold where a bright banner read ‘Welcome to Class 3-A Y/N!’ “That’s so nice!” You said excitedly and pulled out your phone to snap a picture. Low music flowed through the large room as people mingled. No one seemed to notice that you two had joined the group. “Hello? The guest of honor is here!” Mina called out. Soon there were eyes centered on you. You waved slightly to the crowd.

You were met with bright grins and greetings. “Well hello gorgeous.” Someone spoke, you began to search for the voice. “Hey, I’m right here!” You looked slightly down and discovered a...vertically challenged boy staring at you. Well he was actually trying to stare at your boobs through your baggy sweatshirt.

“Um...hey? My eyes are up here dude.” You grimaced. Mina rolled her eyes.

“Oh I know this view is much sexier. I’m Minuro Mineta, class 3-A stud. What’s your name babe?” He wiggled his eye brows and blew you a kiss.

Ugh gross. You thought.

“This is Y/N. Back away now maggot or I’ll crush you like a bug.” Mina hissed.

“Ooooh. I’ve never been stepped on before, but if you’re doing it Mina I’d love to try.” He smirked back licking his lips. A blonde quickly rushed over and pushed Mineta back before Mina lunged at him.

“Whoa dude chill. Let her acclimate before you start being gross. I’m Denki Kaminari by the way.” He said sticking out his fist. You extended yours and fist bumped him.

“Hey, I’m Y/N nice to meet you.” You replied.

“Weren’t you interning with Hopewing back in the States? She totally rocks, I actually got her autograph whenever we went to the I-Expo a few years back.” Kaminari seemed pretty interested in the Pro Hero so you indulged him a little.

“Sure did, she taught me a whole lot about quirk control and management. Hopewing was a great influence on me, she’s kinda like my All Might I guess.” You laughed and scratched the back of your head.

“Super cool,” Kaminari replied, “Come meet the guys we were all actually interested in your quirk. Maybe you could show it off?” He grabbed your hand and lead you over to the couch where a few people sat talking. You looked over your shoulder at Mina who gave you a thumbs up.

“Guys, this is Y/N! She’s pretty cool!” Kaminari said eagerly. A chorus of greetings rang in your ears. “Kirishima, Sero, Todoroki, and Bakubro.” He pointed to each one of them and sat down on the arm of the couch, leaving you awkwardly standing infront of the group. You met Bakugo’s eyes for a split second before gaining a glare and quickly averted your eyes.

“So where are you from?” Kirishma questioned.

Before you could answer Bakugo spoke up, “The states dumbass where else?” He crossed his arms across his chest. His friend glanced at him and stuck his tongue out.

“Ignore him, he hasn’t eaten since this afternoon. He gets a little cranky when he doesn’t fed around the clock.” He reached across and pinched Bakugos cheek lightly.

“Remove your hand Shitty hair before I blast your ass.” Bakugo scowled.

“See?”

“Shitty hair...” He warned and his hand began to heat up emitting a small cloud of smoke. The group rolled their eyes.

“Anyways, I’m from Chicago, Illinois.” You answered before Bakugo could make his threat a reality. You weren’t really scared, but slightly intimidated by the man.

“Is that kinda like New York City?” Sero questioned thoughtfully.

“Kinda. Chicago isn’t nearly as big.”

“You must be tired from the flight over.” Todoroki spoke up noticing you were getting standing uncomfortablely. He stood up from the love seat he sat on, offering you his spot.

“It’s no biggie. I’m just over this jet lag.” You said, ushering him to sit back down.

“Well at least sit with me then? I’m respectful.” He continued before you took him up on his offer and sat down on the arm of the chair.

“Of course you are Icy-Hot.” Bakugo mocked. The comment being brushed off.

The hell was this dudes problem?

“The jet lag is kinda awful, but it’ll be nothing compared to this time change. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep much tonight, I might just finish unpacking everything.” You said leaning back and closing your eyes for a second.

“Well if you need some help I’d be more than happy to assist my floor neighbor.” Kirishma offered.

“I’d actually really like that I have a book shelf that needs to be put together and I have no handiness what so ever.” You smiled. You felt eyes on you and peaked at Bakugo from your peripheral.

“So, like I saying earlier...this quirk?” Kaminari spoke up breaking the encounter with Kirishma.

“Kaminari why do I feel like you only friended me for my quirk?” You joked sarcastically.

“I did not! I’m just saying I think you owe me a demonstration since I practically saved you from Mineta humping your leg.” Sero fake gagged.

“Fine fine. Todoroki, I’d scoot over just a little bit I don’t want to ruin your vision like mine.” You said. His eyes grew wide and squeezed himself into the opposite arm of the chair. You closed your eyes and began to relax your body then staring at your finger tip. Your finger began to glow.

“That’s it?” Bakugo said, unimpressed. All of a sudden your hand began to glow blue before plasma rose through your skin. You began to use your other hand to shape it into a sphere. You tossed it slightly in the air and caught it before absorbing it back into your hand. You smiled

“Whoa...” the group responded. “What’s that called?” Sero questioned.

Just as you were about to share a guy came running over. “You have Ultra Violence?” He yelled and planted himself sitting across from you on the edge of the coffee table.

“You know my quirk?” You asked propping your elbows on your knees.

“Of course! I can’t believe I didn’t put it together before you got here! You’re the daughter of Stage Four! The plasma hero! His whole body can change into plasma! Can you do that too?” He said as he pulled a notebook out of seemingly thin air.

“Damn Deku. I thought I burned that thing?” Bakugo said, nostrils flaring.

“Oh you did Kachan...multiple times.” The guy said showing off the burn edges. He nervously smiled.

“Put that weird shit away before I finish it.”

“I think it’s cool. I’d like to see it sometime.” You said motioning to his prized possession.

“Just cause you’re new doesn’t mean you have to kiss everyone’s ass, you know.” Bakugo retorted.

“Are you just jealous because I’m not kissing yours?” You countered, a sly smile spreading across your lips.

He paused, thinking of a response. Obviously flustered, “Tch, screw you newbie.”

“Jeez Bakugo, if you suck your teeth anymore they’ll go straight down your throat.”

It looks could kill, you’d be 6 feet under. A small amount of smoke began to rise from him until he huffed and stormed away.

“Well shit, I think she just might make it around here. She defused the bomb!” Kaminari clapped and grinned ear to ear. You sat back down feeling completely flushed.

“Dinner is served!” Iida called from the kitchen.

“Midoryia right?” You asked. The green haired boy nodded his head quickly. “We’ll talk later and I can answer all your questions.” You smiled kindly and placed a hand of his arm, squeezing lightly

[annebl4cksworld]

maybe i’m not pretty

New series I’m thinking of launching, not sure if it’s any good.

Word Count: 1090

A/N: Character perspective, double agent, love story 

WARNINGS: None 

pretty innocent really

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

Katerina fumbles with her keys, phone and purse as she walks towards the entrance to starbucks, her phone falls from her hand and she closes her eyes waiting for the worst but there's no sound. Opening one eye she peeks to see what’s happened and finds her phone in a large gloved hand. Her eyes darted up to the face of the person who caught it, sighing in relief “Oh my god, thank you so much, you’re a lifesaver” She placed one hand on her chest and held the other out to take her phone back. The stranger was dressed in mostly black, leather jacket, short hair and looked very uncomfortable 

“s’no problem” he nodded his head slightly and gave a forced smile placing the phone in her hand he then reached past her grabbing the door. 

“And a gentleman, can I buy you a drink? Please” Kat asked walking through the open door turning to face him and he passed through as well, 

“No, no, it’s fine, really.” he shook his head, slumping his hands into his coat and avoiding eye contact.

“I insist, I won’t take no for an answer” leaning in so she could catch a glimpse of his eyes

“Well that doesn’t leave me much option then, uh- coffee, black please” he replied tossing the  arm still in his coat pocket and with that Kat turns on her heels, smile on her face and walks toward the barista, gives his order and before giving her own she turns back to the stranger “Who should I say the coffee is for?” 

“Bucky.” With that same forced smile. Nervously he scanned the room, watching people chatting at tables and standing waiting for their orders, he looked towards the door

“Waiting for someone?” Kat asked checking the exits just as he did, 

“Nope, I- uh- just don’t like crowded places” bringing his attention back to her. She nodded and looked over to the corner of the room, “come with me” she gestured for him to follow and he did, she stood along the wall and offered him the corner, 

“Access to all entry points, almost every door in sight, better?” She tilted her head to the side and smiled when she noticed him relax a bit, he gave a soft chuckle and looked her right in the eyes “much” he mustered. That was the first time they locked eyes, they were a beautiful blue,

“Black coffee for Becky?” The barista called and his head dropped, he slowly rose from the corner but Kat stepped in front of him and grabbed the coffee from her. Hovering for a moment while she waited for her drink; she looked back at Bucky for a moment who looked away as soon as their eyes connected. Not long after, her drink was ready and she accepted it happily. Heading back toward Bucky, she handed him his drink “sorry about that” she commented “s’okay.” He slurred his words shrugging his shoulders. 

“Well, thanks, I’ll be on my way then” he raised his cup and started for the door,

“Do you like movies?” Kat almost shouted after him, scrunching her nose as she realized how loud she was. Bucky stopped and turned back to her “uh- I have seen a movie in 80 years- or - erm… that’s what it feels like… heh” he gave an uncomfortable half smile and blew on his coffee. 

Kat tilted her head a bit, sauntering over to him, “there's a new drive in theatre that just opened up that I’ve been dying to check out but all the movies they're playing right now are older and I was wondering if you were busy later tonight?”

“Yeah- I mean, I’m free” taken back by her forward request, he wasn't sure how to proceed from here.

“Ok, what’s your number, I’ll text you later with the details” Kat pulled her phone out unlocking it and getting ready to add him in,

“I- uh don’t really know how to text” embarrassingly admitting to her 

“That's' ok, can I call you instead?” Kat offered, extending her hand out when Bucky pulled his phone out, he handed a fossil flip phone to her “Yeah, that works.” 

She was quick to add her number in and call herself so she could save his number. 

“Ok, I’ll call you later than.” She smiled handing his phone back to him,

“Ok” Bucky stood motionless for a moment and Kat took the opportunity to retreat waving as she left. She rounded the corner, her heels clicking on the pavement as she walked, pulling her phone out she added Bucky into her contact list. 

“You work fast; a fantastic little actress” a voice called from the shadow of the alley she passed, Kat stopped dead in her tracks and turned toward the sokovian accent,

“You hired me to do a job. I’m doing it but you need to let me lay the groundwork. Can’t just bag him off the hop, he’s paranoid, nervous, always scanning. He’ll see you coming so let me establish some ground work and then he’s all yours Zemo.” He stepped out from behind the wall applauding silently, he leaned against it to the side of her,

“He’s a super soldier, this needs to be done correctly, swiftly, you can do this, yes?” He reached for her and pushed a section of her hair behind her shoulder. Less of a question more of an insult; Kat shrugged his hand off her giving him a hard stare

“Yes sir, consider it done” copying Bucky’s forced smile. Zemo had paid handsomely for her services and she needed every penny she could get, ever since half the population came back, work was hard to come by. She watched him carefully as he leaned in and whispered 

“No feelings, no mistakes” 

“You insult me sir” leaning away from him, he raised his hands in defeat and began to walk in the opposite direction. “Don’t disappoint me.” Calling out as he disappeared around the corner. 

[thedirtpreferences]

PREFERENCE #19 - SEDUCTION

(Sooooo....I’ve been getting a lot of smut requests and decided I wanted to give it a whirl. It’s a little out of my comfort zone, but I wanted to at least give it a try for you beautiful people)

Vince: “So, tell me again why you’re upset.” He purred against your skin, his nose tracing a line from your belly button to your naval. “Because of what you said in front of the boys,” You muttered, avoiding eye contact as you kept your eyes fixed on the TV. “And what exactly did I say that made you so upset?” He inquired, his fingers curling around the waistband of your panties, giving them an experimental yank. When you showed him no attention, he smirked knowing that soon you would be puddey in his hands. When had you ever been someone to tell him to stop? Even you couldn’t deny how good Vince made you feel. “You told them innapropriate things about what we do behind closed doors.” The words you uttered came out in a breathless sigh as he pulled your panties completely off, slowly parting your legs, his breath hot against your now exposed pussy. You could feel you temperature rising, your heart beating like a helicopter in flight. God, you needed him, but you needed to remain strong more. “And why did that bother you?” Vince asked inquistively, the tip of his nose pressed against your throbbing clit, his lips pressing gently against your exposed heat. Your toes curled at this, but you remained strong. For how long, however, was the question. This was only a level one for Vince afterall. “Because it’s none of their business.” You mumbled, gripping the edge of the couch tightly as you closed your eyes. Vince had began to take slow, deliberate licks at your clit, turning it up a notch. It was taking everything in you not to make a noise. How was this son of a bitch so damn controlled? It was like he knew exactly what to do to make you lose all your inhibitions; the man had mastered the art in knowing you inside and out. “Well, hopefully you let me make it up to you. Afterall, I can’t control what I say when I speak of you. You’re just so fucking hot, Y/N. God, if only you knew how much I really worshiped the fuck out of you.” He whispered against you, his breath shaky as he looked up at you through his hooded eyes. You could have nearly lost it right then and there seeing as you were already nearly on the brink of saying ‘fuck it’ anyways. Why was he so good? “I can make it up to you, you know?” Vince bit his lip, his black eyes pleading. “That is if you let me. Will you please let me pretty girl?” Was it the way he sounded so desperate? So sumbmissive to please you? Or was it the way his breath blew hot against your pussy making you shiver with each syllable? Knowing that with one simple ‘yes’ Vince would unleash the cracken you let out a small groan throwing your elbow over your face. “Please make it up to me.” Grinning up at you, Vince would dive right into your pussy wordlessly telling you that that’s all he needed to hear to make up his mind.

Nikki: “Nikki, please...” It took a lot to make you plead. It took a lot to make you buckle into submission, but Nikki brought the worst out in you. Furthermore, all he had to do was look at you; look at you with that fucking face of his and you were his. Perhaps you were sex crazed, perhaps you were just a horny person. Though you had never felt this crazy before which made you believe that maybe it was just your boyfriend being your kryptonite. “What is it?” He whispered, his fingertips soft as satin as they brushed down the sides of your body strategically slow. You shivered. “Please, Nikki, do something.” You begged, clenching your eyes close when his hand trailed to your ass squeezing it ever so slightly. “You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” He growled in your ear, biting down on your neck surely leaving a bruise for the next day. Nikki liked that after all; he liked letting everyone know you were his and his only. “Yes.” You gasped when Nikki slammed his hand by your head, his eyes dark. “Say it.” His words would be menacingly sharp, his intentions undoubtedly clear. How could you not when he was looking at you with those eyes? “I want you to fuck me, Nikki.” The conviction in your own eyes would nearly send him over the edge as he took in your desperation. Where he was the one seducing you, he couldn’t help but to be mesmerized by your words. How had he gotten so fucking lucky? He couldn’t wait to make you feel good. “Good girl.” He mused as his hands were suddenly in your pants, his index finger stroking your throbbing clit roughly. You let out a loud yelp, your arms snaking around Nikki’s neck as he rubbed your sensitive knob. You could feel your legs on the verge of betraying you, growing weak with each passing second. He had only just touched you and you were already on the verge of cumming? Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. Even Nikki could sense just how embarrassingly close you were as he thrusted a finger into your core, his digits knowing exactly where to go to bring you closer to the edge. Nikki loved to push you to your limits, he loved to keep you on your toes when he had you in such a willing position. For him, there was nothing hotter. “Nikki, no, I’m not ready. Nikki, please.” You would plead letting out a cry as he sped up his pace, your walls beginning to tighten around him, the brink of your orgasm beginning to consume you. You were just about to release when suddenly he pulled his fingers out, licking them clean and turning his back on you. “Of course not, love. This is only the beginning.”

Mick: Mick didn’t like to mess around. He didn’t like to tease you, he didn’t like to edge you, he didn’t even particularly like to make you wait for anything if what you wanted was for him to pleasure you. Furthermore, you were his one and only. You deserved to be worshipped, you deserved to be pleasured, you deserved everything you could have ever wanted through his action. Which is why the moment he saw that look in your eye, the man was instantly undressing you as quickly as he possibly could. “M-Mick.” You would gasp as he sucked against your nipples, his calloused fingers gingerly pumping in and out of you. “Mick, slow down.” You would plead, the pressure inside your core twisting inside you far too quickly. You knew you were Mick’s queen and that whatever you want you received, but sometimes you wished that the man would take his time with you and make you ooze with desperation. Sometimes, you didn’t want to get to the party so quickly; you wanted to bask in the pleasure and stretch the whole thing out so you could enjoy it for longer. “You don’t want me to make you...?” Mick would inquire, raising his head to stare at you through his incredibly long lashes. “Not yet, baby. Not yet. Slow it down make me feel,” You would explain, guiding his fingers to your clit and rubbing them slowly against it with difficulty choking back your moans. “That’s what you want, hm?” Mick would grumble, slightly offended by your orders. Did you think that he didn’t know how to tease? Did you think he needed help seducing his own girlfriend? Boy, were you in for a rude awakening. Dropping to his knees, he would yank down your skirt and your panties in one swift motion. “Stand still.” Mick would snap, grabbing onto your legs roughly with his large palms, causing your quivering legs to come to a complete halt; he loved having this sort of instantaneous effect on you for him, there was nothing hotter. Licking up from just above your knee, to your inner thigh, to finally your sweet, pulsating clit, Mick would use the pressure of a moths wing to tease you, loving the way you sucked in a sharp inhale. You liked that did you? Kissing against your clit painstakingly slow, Mick would chuckle as your knees buckled ever so slightly, his hands being the only thing keeping you from completely collapsing. After about five minutes or so, you would whine, your frustration growing unfathomable. “Mick, do something.” You would beg, your eyes locking with Mick’s that were now tinted with humor and amusement. “You need to make up your mind little lady because right now you want me to take it slow, remember?” It was then you realized your mistakes: you had awoken Mick’s inner monster that fancied teasing more than life itself.

Tommy: Let’s face the facts: Tommy is like a kid in a candy store. So many options, so many places to go for, so many sweet temptations that he simply can’t ignore. He wants everything at once, greedy never being enough to describe him. Starting with rough bruises on your neck and your collarbones, to soft suckles upon your perfectly rounded breasts, to rough open mouth kisses down every inch of your body, to finally having his head clamped between your spread legs, your hands tangling tightly in his unruly locks, he would get an adrenaline high faster than any drug or liquor. Where every part of you was so incredibly sweet to him, however, Tommy enjoyed eating you out more than anything. Quite honestly, he didn’t give a rats ass what you liked either, simply because he couldn’t resist himself from doing it. To be fair, it wasn’t exactly seduction seeing as it was so straightforward, but nothing about Tommy was controlled and concise. That’s what made him such an amazing lover after all, his ability to keep you on your toes at all times. And honestly even though the poor guy struggled with seduction to get you going, he was a mastermind at edging you. He would get your toes curling, your heart racing, your moans loud and impulsive and then he would pull away from you to take a drag of his cigarette and a chug of his vodka. “C’mon, Tommy.” You would cry out as he took a drag of his cigarette, his goofy, lopsided smile making your heart hammer against your ribs. How could someone so innocent looking be such a fucking tease? You had never imagined in a million years someone would bring you to brink of insanity the way Tommy did. It was unfathomable. “What was that love? Oh! That’s right you wanted me to finish you off, my apologies.” Flicking out his cigarette and wiping away his mouth, he would position himself between your legs painstakingly slow, his hot breath causing you to shiver. His lips would barely be pressed against your needing clit when he would suddenly withdraw himself, letting out a hearty sigh. “That cigarette made me a little parched, I must admit. I think I need a drink now.” Your frustrated screams would make him giggle, and honestly, he would’ve felt a little guilty if you weren’t so fucking hot. Unfortunately, he had you right where he wanted you: on the cusp of losing your sanity.

[noona-clock]

The Risk - Part 5

Genre: Fighter!AU

Pairing: Park Seo Joon x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: Disgustingly cute fluff and also one curse word

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 | Words: 2,935

Over the next year, Seo Joon made (basically) good on his promise not to ever get punched during a fight. He had gotten kicked a couple of times, but after you had appeared in front of him with very raised, very angry eyebrows, he had reminded you that you’d only made him promise not to get punched.

You hadn’t said anything about getting kicked.

So, obviously, you had made him amend his promise right then and there.

He trained incredibly hard during that year, working especially on his reflexes to make sure you wouldn’t ever have to see him get hit -- punched or kicked.

Before meeting you, he had already trained hard and had an uncanny ability to stay focused on his goals and work until he achieved them. But after meeting you, after hearing just how much you disliked watching him get hurt, he stepped up his game.

In the span of that year, Seo Joon fought in six other matches (not including the match he won the night he officially asked you to be his girlfriend), and he only got hit somewhat badly once. But that had been in his abdomen, not his face, so you had been a bit easier to console.

Also in the span of that year, Seo Joon had done his best to make you fall in love with him, though that was both unknowingly done and took way less than a year. It had only taken three months, in fact.

After the first month of your relationship, Seo Joon had waited for you outside of your class, just like he had on the day you’d first kissed in the garden. But this time, he was holding a rather large bouquet of flowers, all different kinds but all the same color -- your favorite color.

When you’d opened the door of the building and seen him there, your cheeks had immediately turned beet red. The friend you’d been walking with had smirked wildly and poked your side, teasing you about the tall, handsome stranger waiting for you with flowers.

“What are these for?” you’d asked shyly once you’d approached him, a bashful grin curving your lips.

“You have been my girlfriend for exactly one month,” Seo Joon had replied, unable to keep himself from smiling down at you as you brought the bouquet up to your nose. “I thought you deserved some flowers, at least.”

Your response had been, “You didn’t have to buy me flowers.” But those had just been your words. Your smile had been far too wide and, frankly, cheesy for you to actually think that.

So, Seo Joon had done the same thing after month two. He waited for you outside of your class holding a bouquet of flowers, this one even larger and more beautiful than the last. Other students had noticed him, and he’d even heard someone wonder out loud if he was Park Seo Joon, the MMA fighter.

He’d tried not to react or even look in the person’s direction because this was about you -- not him. If someone came up to him to ask for an autograph or a picture... he might actually refuse. You still didn’t care if it happened when the two of you were together; in fact, you encouraged it because his fans were a big reason he had been able to make a career out of what he loved to do.

But anyway. Back to our scene.

The second you’d seen him standing there again, holding yet another embarrassingly big bouquet, you’d bit your lip and speed-walked over to him.

“What are you doing here?” you’d asked as a smile had formed on your lips. You’d immediately slid your arms around his middle and stood on your toes to greet him with a quick kiss.

Before Seo Joon had the chance to answer your question, a loud catcall whistle filled the air. You’d whipped your head around and cried out to the friend you’d been walking with every time he’d come here.

“I’m so sorry,” you’d chuckled after turning back around to face him, your cheeks incredibly pink.

He truly wasn’t sure when you looked more adorable than you did when you were embarrassed -- happily embarrassed, that is. Not embarrassed like ‘I want to crawl into a hole in the ground and stay there forever’ kind of embarrassed.

“I know I should buy you flowers more,” he had told you as he’d handed you the bouquet. “And not just on special occasions. But today, it’s officially been two months since you said you would be my girlfriend.”

You’d smirked and shot him a playfully quizzical look. “I don’t think two months really qualifies as a special occasion.”

“It does when you’re my girlfriend,” he’d murmured before placing a quick kiss on the tip of your nose.

And since you had been so embarrassed -- and since you’d pointed out that a monthly anniversary wasn’t actually an anniversary -- he’d done it again on the third month.

But... this time... it would be a special occasion.

Seo Joon zipped up his jacket before reaching over and grabbing the bouquet, hoping the frigid air outside didn’t nip at the petals as he stood to wait for you.

His breath blew soft, puffy clouds in front of him as he walked to the building he’d become all too familiar with over the last three months, and he checked his watch to make sure he wasn’t running late.

Today was not only the three-month mark of your relationship, but it was also the last day of your final exams for the semester -- hence the special occasion thing. He had thought about taking you out to dinner, ordering your favorite dessert, maybe some wine? But then he’d decided he should probably let you choose. You were the one who had been studying and taking tests for the last month, so he would cater to your every whim tonight.

(Let’s be real though: he catered to your whim every night. Seo Joon was definitely one of those boyfriends. He practically worshipped the ground you walked on. 🤷‍♂️)

Just as he came to stand in his usual spot, the front door to the building swung open. He heard a handful of students let out a relieved sigh, chattering about how glad they were the final -- and semester -- was finally over.

His brow furrowed softly, but before he could start worrying too much about you, he spotted you walking out the door. You quickly said goodbye to your friend before hitching your bag over your shoulder and heading toward him.

A tired but still very happy smile played at your lips, and you let out a soft sigh as you snaked your arms around him. You slid them underneath his jacket, pressing your cheek to his chest as you tried to steal his warmth.

“How did your test go?” he murmured, holding onto you with his free arm and rubbing your back soothingly.

“Fine,” you sighed. “It’s over, so that’s all that matters.”

He placed a kiss on the top of your head, and he expected you to pull away then... but you didn’t. So he didn’t.

And then after at least a minute, he asked, “You’re not going to ask me what I’m doing here? Or what the flowers are for?”

You let out a negative hum, shaking your head just the tiniest bit before you snuggled against his chest even more. “I don’t care today, I’m just happy to see you,” you muttered.

A smile played at Seo Joon’s lips, and he squeezed you once before moving to turn you and start heading toward his car. “How about we go do something? To celebrate?”

“Sure,” you replied quietly, sticking to his side as the two of you ambled down the sidewalk.

“Anything you want,” he announced with a squeeze of your shoulders. “Dinner, movie, shopping...”

Seo Joon heard a soft sigh escape your lips, and then you said, “Can we go back to your place? Order takeout and just relax?”

“If that’s what you want to do, then that’s what we’ll do,” he replied.

You stopped walking then, tilting your head up and raising your eyebrows at him.

“Well, right now, I want a kiss,” you told him.

A smile quirked at Seo Joon’s lips, and he bent down to grant your request without a moment’s hesitation.

“And I want my flowers,” you added, reaching over and taking the bouquet from him. “Thank you for them, they’re so beautiful.”

“You know why I got them, right?” he asked quietly.

“Besides the fact I finished all my exams?”

“In addition to,” he confirmed.

“I’m guessing... it’s been three months?”

Seo Joon moved to kiss you again as a reward for being so smart, and you smiled against his lips.

“Are you really going to bring me flowers at school every single month?” you asked with a note of amusement in your voice. “You really don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t have to,” Seo Joon replied. “But I want to. I want to make sure you know how I feel about you. How important you are to me.”

“But then what do I do?” you asked as Seo Joon reached into his pocket to get his car keys ready.

“What do you mean?”

“To show you how I feel about you and how important you are to me? I haven’t done anything,” you pointed out with a slightly pouty lower lip.

“Now that is not true,” Seo Joon countered. “You came to my match.”

“But that was three months ago!”

“So? You coming to one match is definitely equal to me bringing you flowers multiple times,” he said. And then, because he knew you would try to argue again, he added, “I’m a guy. Guys don’t need to be reminded as much because just the fact a girl is still with us is enough. Every day when you wake up and decide you still want to be my girlfriend is how you show me I’m important to you.”

Just as the two of you approached his car, right before you broke off so you could each get into your respective seats, you paused. You quirked a brow up at him.

“Did you even know you were this romantic?” you asked with a barely hidden smirk.

“No,” he answered, chuckling softly and shaking his head. “Only for you.”

“How did I get so lucky?” you mused.

“I ask myself the same question all the time,” Seo Joon whispered before he gave you one more kiss.

About fifteen minutes later, Seo Joon dialed the number of the nearest Chinese takeout restaurant while you put your flowers in a vase in his kitchen. And, yes, you’d had to buy a vase for his apartment because he hadn’t previously owned one. Is that surprising?

As he ordered way too much food over the phone, he watched as you stepped out of your shoes, shuffled over to his couch, and flopped down onto it, practically face-planting into the cushions with a soft groan.

Once the restaurant employee supplied him with the total and said it would be delivered in about half an hour, Seo Joon set his phone on the counter and went over to join you.

“I think my brain is on its last leg,” you told him as he carefully slid onto the couch to lie down next to you.

“No Scrabble tonight, then,” he murmured, fitting himself behind you and sliding an arm over your waist.

“No,” you chuckled. You instantly settled into his hold, letting out a very content sigh as he pressed a kiss to the back of your shoulder. “All I want right now are cuddles.”

“Then cuddles you shall get.” As if he hadn’t planned to do that already. 😉😏 “We have a full half-hour before the food is delivered.”

“Only a half-hour? No, I was thinking more like cuddling all night,” you replied. 

“Ooh, all night,” Seo Joon smirked, nuzzling your neck and nipping your skin there. “I like the sound of that.”

You let him press lazy kisses along your neck and shoulder for a few moments, and then you asked in a quiet voice, “Can I? Stay over?”

He knew you were nervous because, while you’d been to his apartment countless times by this point, you’d never actually spent the night. But for him? He’d been waiting for you to bring it up for weeks now. He hadn’t wanted to push you by asking you himself, but he would’ve let you stay at his place practically from the very beginning. Not for that reason, but just because he liked having you around. He imagined seeing you when he fell asleep and again when he woke up would just be... heaven.

“Of course, you can,” he murmured, his lips brushing over your skin. “You’re welcome to stay over any time you want.”

You turned around in his arms, a fairly giddy smile on your lips before you pressed the tip of your nose to his. “How very accommodating you are.”

“Hey now,” he began in the sternest tone he could muster. “I’m not this way with just anyone. Don’t go around telling everyone you see they can come and stay at my place.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you giggled. “You really think I’d want to share you? Absolutely not.”

Your words made Seo Joon’s heart flutter more than he would ever care to admit out loud, even to you. “Good,” he grinned. “I don’t want to share you either.”

You let out another giggle before tilting your head, pressing your lips to his over and over again.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked in-between kisses.

“Mhm,” you hummed. You kissed him one more time before settling back, allowing him to look at your face as he spoke.

“I’m really proud of you,” he said, his voice soft but filled with earnest adoration. “You’ve worked really hard, at school and at work, and I just want you to know that I’m proud of you.”

“Well, thank you,” you replied with a very bashful grin. “I’m proud of you, too.”

Seo Joon smiled over at you, bringing one hand up and tracing over your cheek with his thumb. He searched your face, taking in every single feature, every single inch of you he could see...

He had planned to say this tonight, yes, but he hadn’t quite worked out the logistics. He hadn’t been sure if he’d wanted to make some grand gesture or something, but... right now, just lying here on the couch with you, he knew this was the right time.

“Can I tell you something else?” he asked again, his voice even softer this time.

“Yes, of course,” you chuckled gently.

He looked into your eyes for a few moments, and just before it felt like you were going to urge him to say whatever it was he wanted to say... he said it.

“I love you.”

Your eyes widened, and before he knew it, your lips were on his.

“I love you, too,” you murmured, still kissing him.

And, good grief, if Seo Joon had ever been happier, he sure couldn’t remember when it had been.

“So...” he began, plastering a very angelic smile on his face. “Does that mean you’ll come to my match this weekend?”

He had told you he loved you because he meant it, yes, but... it was also the best way he could think of to invite you to the fight in a couple of days. There hadn’t been one since the one and only match you’d gone to, but he knew you weren’t looking forward to them.

“Seo Joon,” you scolded once you pulled away from him. “Of course, I’ll be there! I told you I would. I won’t like it, and I’ll be anxious the whole time, but I’m still going.”

And you did go -- to that match and to the six other matches Seo Joon had during the first year of your relationship. You didn’t like it, and you were anxious the whole time, but you still went, just like you said you would.

As I mentioned earlier, Seo Joon only got a hit a couple of times during all seven of those matches. He had trained harder than ever to make sure he didn’t have to worry you, and, if he was being honest, the opponents he’d faced hadn’t been much of a challenge.

Overall, that year had been pretty excellent. One of -- if not the -- best of Seo Joon’s life so far. His career was still at its peak. His relationship was stronger than ever. He fell in love with you more each day, and he knew without a doubt that you were The One he was meant to be with forever.

Truly, he felt like he was on top of the world. Like nothing could go wrong.

He should’ve known better.

As soon as he saw his manager’s name on his phone screen, he should have known. There was no way he could have known, but after hearing it, it felt like it was so obvious. Like it had just been waiting in the wings for him. Inevitable.

“Hey,” Jang Ho greeted tersely. Not his usual tone of voice.

“What’s up?” Seo Joon asked.

“I just got the schedule for your next match.”

“Yeah? When is it?”

“It’s next month,” he told him. “And... you’re fighting Martinez.”

...Oh, fuck.

Martinez.

The only fighter Seo Joon had ever lost to.

Part 6

[lnc2]

Shutterbug (1/?)

Chapter 1: something happens when everybody finds out

Summary: The word is out and the gossip is in: Ladybug’s got a man on her arm and it isn’t Chat Noir.  The hottest new couple to hit the Parisian spotlight? Ladybug and Adrien Agreste.

A/N: A commission from the wonderful @alienducky that grew out of control. Shout out to @overworkedunderwhelmed for helping me with the title.   It’s just what I was looking for.

AO3

This is a dream.  This has to be a dream.

Adrien watched in fascinated horror as his father and Nathalie outlined their plan of attack to the shell-shocked love of his life.  Ladybug’s arms were crossed around her stomach and her mouth hung open, just the slightest, frozen as Gabriel oh-so-casually requested– no, demanded – the superheroine’s cooperation.

“Are you okay with this?” He asked, voice low so as not to catch his clearly insane guardian’s attention.

Ladybug turned away from Gabriel and his runaway PR campaign.  She gave him a somewhat wobbly smile.

“Sure,” She squeaked. “Yup.  Tip-top. Totally fine!”

The too-perky words hung between them for a moment, suspended in horribly awkward time.  Adrien knew his partner too well to know she was anything but panicking.

“It’s okay,” He said, reaching out to gently touch her arm. “I’ll get you out of this.”

“No!” She said, too loud.  Red peeked out beneath her mask, dusting her nose and cheeks. She shook her head, tried again. “I mean– no.  Th-that’s okay. I’m kind of the reason you’re in this mess in the first place, right?”

That wasn’t entirely true, but Adrien wasn’t going to point out the embarrassingly obvious.  If she wanted to pretend he hadn’t made a total ass of himself to the press, well, who was he to stop her?

“Besides,” She said, shy smile peeking through her nerves. “There are worse ways to spend my time.”

“Heh,” Now it was his turn to blush. “Really? I mean, yeah. Ah.  Yeah.”

Gods strike him dead. 

He was barely in this and already making a fool of himself.

“Adrien,” His father snapped, drawing their attention back to the front of the room.  “Do pay attention. This is your scandal we’re dealing with.”

“Yes, father.” He murmured.

Scandal.

The word hung in the air like an accusation.  Unfair, really, and an exaggeration. There wasn’t anything particularly scandalous about what was happening.  It was more… sensational.

And it started, as these things usually do, with a rumor.

Some one anonymous person on the Internet or another asking the question: who should be dating Adrien Agreste?

Since the he’d ‘gone public’ on social media and started sharing more details about his personal life, speculation was rife over which if any of the girls featured on his instagram were worthy of his attention.

A ridiculous question really when, as he told his commenters, they were all just friends.  On the record, he wasn’t interested in anyone.

Off the record? Well, he was working on that.

Nevertheless, the rumors spiraled, as they usually do, from there.

Clara Nightingale was written off as too old, Chloe Bourgeois as too mean, and his school friends as too low-key.  It wasn’t until one inspiration-struck individual suggested Ladybug that the message boards lost their collective minds.

Video mashups of Ladybug’s press conferences, fan footage, and Agreste ads started making the rounds.  Doctored images of Ladybug and Adrien embracing, staring longingly into each other’s eyes, or even just standing near each other were rampant on sites like tumblr.  All and any of the little real interactions the two shared were shared and dissected and shared again.  One manic evening, after Audrey Bourgeois was akumatized and Ladybug was seen carrying the supermodel across the city, #ladrien started trending on Parisian twitter finally meriting the attention of major news outlets.

How all of this rumbling underbelly of Ladybug lore managed to miss him was a mystery.  But whether through school or modeling or whatever it was his father scheduled to max out his free time, Adrien didn’t hear about #buggreste or #ladrien or whatever the kids were calling it these days.

That is, he hadn’t, until his disastrous post-photoshoot run-in with Nadja Chamack.

“Adrien, a moment.” She said, accosting him just as he was about to enter his limo.  “Is it true that you and Ladybug are dating?”

The question, one right out of his deepest, most desperate dreams, stopped him cold.

The camera focused in on him, a journalist’s dream: eyes wide and bright, cheeks so, so red.

“I–” He nearly tripped over his feet as he turned to face the reporter and her camera. “Where did you hear that?”

“So it’s true?” She asked, forcing the microphone closer.

“She– I… Me?” He stammered, more flustered and starry-eyed by the minute.  Unfortunately for the viewers at home, Gabriel’s assistant Nathalie stepped in front of the camera blocking him from view.

“That will be all.”

But the damage was done.

What once was a dizzy-eyed fangirl’s daydream turned into the hottest gossip to hit Paris since the superheroes first stepped onto the scene.

By the time it officially hit the Ladyblog it was regarded by everyone not in the know as fact. Alya did her best, really, she did, to stem the tides. For the sake of #ladynoir (and her best friend) she had to try.  But when Monday rolled around and the contrite blogger finally managed to catch up with Marinette there really wasn’t much left to say.

“I’m so sorry, girl,” She said, throwing her arms around her friend. “No one will listen to reason.”

Marinette shrugged. “It’s okay, Alya.  It’s kind of funny when you think about it.”

“It’s ridiculous is what it is,” She said. “Ladybug and Chat Noir are already together.”

“I don’t know about that,” Marinette said, rolling her eyes. “But it is rather reckless.  If it is true, I mean.  Imagine the akumas.”

“I’m sure Adrien will be fine, M.  It’s just gossip. Everything will blow over in a few days.”

Things did not blow over. 

They blew up.

And Marinette could only blame herself.

It was unfair, really, for the reporters to corner her like they did.  Ladybug and Chat were mid bien joue when they descended, rabid dogs wild for the latest scoop.

“Ladybug, can you comment on the Adrien situation?”

“Um,” She said, leaning further into Chat’s side as they encircled her. “No?”

Another microphone was shoved in her face. “So you’re saying you’re not interested in him?”

“No. I– wait yes.  I mean no.  I mean–” She laughed, nervous.  “What was the question?”

It was a rambling mistake on her part, a Marinette-ism sneaking through the mask.  But it was so hard for her to think with the flashing bulbs and shouted questions and rolling cameras.  Her miraculous was beeping and Chat’s arm gripped her waist as he pulled her close.

“I believe that’s all the time Lady has for today.” Chat said, extending his baton and vaulting them up, up, upward until they reached the nearby rooftops.  “Catch you later!”

Her partner was good for things like that.  Unfortunately he couldn’t save her from her runaway mouth and the resulting headline carnage.

Bug Outted! Secret Romance with Adrien Agreste CONFIRMED!

Buggreste or Ladrien?  YOU Decide.

The Claws are OUT: Chat Noir and His Plan to Win Ladybug Back

The last one featured a picture of Chat Noir sneering at the camera as he pulled a flustered Ladybug out of the paparazzi’s line of fire.  For days afterwards the Internet was abuzz with the news that she was cheating on Adrien with her partner which resulted in at least one akumatization.

The whole thing was more than a little ridiculous.

For obvious reasons, Ladybug thought it best to avoid being seen anywhere near the Agreste estate, but after a swarm of reporters chased Adrien down at the school things seemed a little… desperate.

Gabriel Agreste was the one who called for the meeting.

A stern direction for Adrien to make the request on his friend’s “little blog” was enough to send the forums into a tizzy.  But it was the news footage of Ladybug swinging over the vaulted gates of the Agreste manor that really set them going.

All of which culminated in this moment:

Adrien and Ladybug, red-faced and more than a little mortified, staring down the ultimate PR campaign.

“So we’re agreed then,” Gabriel said, looking down his nose at the blushing teens. “The two of you will carry on this… relationship for a time before breaking it off.  The public fervor will die down and we can move on from this disaster.  Are we clear?”

Adrien cast a searching look towards Ladybug, everything he’d ever wanted since he was fifteen.  She met his gaze and gave him a tentative but nonetheless heartstopping smile. A small thrill shot down his spine as the reality of what they were agreeing to sunk in.

The opportunity to date Ladybug with his father’s blessing?

Hell fucking yes.

Adrien met Gabriel’s steely gaze with his own.

“Absolutely.”

[sf-akahana]

Makeover (Haikyuu)

So I was reading that dialogue prompt thing that’s going around and was hit with sudden inspiration from one of them.  Also HAIKYUU SEASON 4 I’M TOO HYPE.  Anyway everyone is aged up about a year so Asahi - 19/graduated/working, Nishinoya and Tanaka - 17 going on 18/third years, and Saeko - 22/college student.  Hope you enjoy <3

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

Asahi sighed heavily as he stepped out of the bakery he worked at, shaking out his tight hair bun after a long shift.  7 hours of putting together large catering orders and placating impatient customers had left him drained and he was in dire need of some time with his friends to recharge.  It’s a good thing he had a get together planned with Tanaka and Noya for the night; he smiled as he pulled out his phone to text the rowdy wing spiker.

To: Tanaka

“Hey, I just got off work.  I’ll be over in about 10 minutes.”

sent 7:42pm

From: Tanaka

“k dude out gettin food nee chan and noya san are there door should be unlocked”

received 7:44pm

He couldn’t help but chuckle at his friend’s rushed text as he started up his car.  15 minutes of anxiously careful driving later he was parking in front of Tanaka’s house and shuffling his way up the steps.  He decided to ring the doorbell even though he was told to just go in and was met with Tanaka’s sister Saeko’s boisterous voice yelling through the door.

“Asahi? What’re you bein all polite for, come on in!!”

Stepping through the door and toeing off his shoes, he was surprised to see that no one was in the living room or the kitchen.  He headed up to Tanaka’s room to find Nishinoya but only found his stuff thrown around the room; knowing the libero he’ll definitely forget something tomorrow.

“Nishinoya? Saeko nee-san?”

“In my room!”

Neatly tucking his night things away in the corner of the room, Asahi made his way down the hall and peeked in to see Nishinoya and Saeko sitting face to face on her bed littered with makeup.  He caught Nishinoya’s eye just as Saeko was applying a last swipe of deep red lipstick to his lips, and Asahi felt his heart jump.  His friend’s eyes were accentuated with dark smoky eyeshadow and sharp eyeliner that exaggerated his already normally intense expression.  Long black eyelashes framed his brown eyes as they lit up at his friend’s arrival, his newly painted lips splitting into a smirk.

“Asahi-san, finally!!  We thought you might never show up.”

The older man blinked a few times and cleared his throat before replying as casually as he could.  He hadn’t expected to be so flustered and he was thrown completely off his game.  “W-what’re you guys up to?  I didn’t know you were into makeup Nishinoya.”  Asahi figited embarrassingly in the door frame and finally tore his eyes away from his friend to see that Saeko was sporting a similar makeup look and shooting him a smug smile.

“Nee-san was practicing popular western makeup and it looked rad!!”

“Ahh~ and Yuu is such a great model, it looks so good on him doesn’t it?”

“Thanks Nee-san!!”

Asahi felt his shoulders relax as the two bantered back and forth; with a second to breath he finally noticed the laptop paused on a foreign girl demonstrating the look they were practicing and the heavy Jrock music playing from Saeko’s phone.  He took a deep calming breath and stepped into the room, stopping next to the bed and giving his younger friend another quick once over.  “You’re really good at makeup Nee-san.”  She beamed up at him with a wide smile that matched her brother’s, but Asahi was distracted by the gleam in Nishinoya’s eyes that usually meant mischief was afoot.  Oh no.

“Nee-san, you should do Asahi-san’s makeup too!”

Asahi felt his face flush with heat as Saeko agreed enthusiastically with the idea.  He flailed his hands in denial and shook his head in embarrassment.  “I-I don’t think that’s a good idea guys.  I’m not – I mean – it wouldn’t look good on me like it does Nishinoya.  A-and I doubt I’ll be able to stand still whi-”

“No way, it’d look really cool on you!!”  Nishinoya cut off his rambling with a confident statement, and Asahi felt the heat travel to his ears.  He doubted he’d look good in it, and those makeup brushes looked a bit too soft and ticklish for his liking, but if Nishinoya thought so then maybe...?  He looked over that his friends and was met with two pairs of excited eyes staring back at him; right then he knew he’d lost.  He was too softhearted for this.  With a long sigh he gave into his fate.

“Alright, if you want to I guess it’s fine.”  He smiled exasperatedly as the two whooped and high-fived each other.  Saeko quickly pulled up the chair from her vanity and sat him down while she lined up the makeup in order of what she’d be using first.  She started with his eyes and though it felt weird to have stuff painted and patted onto his skin, the beginning it wasn’t that bad.  With his eyes closed it was easier to resist the urge to figit under all the attention, and he could just focus on the sound of the makeup video being paused and unpaused as they went through each step.  It was in English so he doubted the two understood a word she was saying, but they seemed to get the idea even without verbal instruction.  Next came mascara and he couldn’t focus on anything else while he was trying not to get black goop in his eyes, but he wasn’t so lucky on the next step.

“Next is something called contour.  This stuff gets everywhere and I don’t want to have to start over, so don’t move ok big guy?”  Saeko teased him as she reached for the fluffy brushes he was dreading.  He was fully aware of Nishinoya’s rapt attention now as she brought the brush to his cheekbones and he tried to focus anywhere but his friends gaze.  Asahi tensed all his muscles as the brush glided over his skin and he did his best not to flinch or close his eyes too tight and ruin his eye makeup.  She wasn’t kidding when she said the powder gets everywhere, he could see it dust onto his clothes and into the air slightly.  He sniffed and scrunched his nose only to get a light smack on the shoulder in warning, and he hummed in the back of his throat as she moved to match his other side.  While she worked he felt a pang of dread as a slight tickle started in his nose; he normally disliked sneezing in public because of the attention it got him but sneezing in this situation?  He couldn’t think of anything more embarrassing.  Saeko then switched out her brush for a much smaller more precise brush, loaded it with product, and proceeded to drag it up and down the right side of his already tickling nose.  He gasped.

“Hihhhhhh… Is there a chance you have anhhhy makeup brushes that aren’t so tihhhckly? snf!”

Saeko smiled sympathetically and shook her head. “Sorry man, this is what works best. Just hold on for a few minutes okay? Don’t sneeze.” She held his chin still as she continued to blend out the powder on the other side of his nose.

“I don’t know if I can promise th-ahhh… that.” He could tell she was trying to be more careful with the brush this time but his nose already tickled so it didn’t help much.  He could feel his nostrils twitch as she worked up the bridge of his nose and his breath gave the occasional hitch.  He avoided looking at Nishinoya, knowing full well that he could see every irritated twitch his face made as he held back his sneeze the best he could.

“Alright I’m going to contour the underside of your nose.  Hold your breath ok?”  He didn’t even have time to protest before the soft bristles were brushing under his nose and he knew he was done for. He quickly pushed her hands aside and turned his face away from them as his lungs yanked a desperate breath.

“hhhhhHHYAHHH-”

“AhHD’CHHhhuhh!!”

His first sneeze was loud and powerful and he quickly pinched his nose as more sneezes built, not caring as he smudged the makeup Saeko just applied.  His breath hitched and he stifled three more sneezes as best he could.

“ah’DJhht! hd’tCHhh!! hh- hH’DThh!  HhHHHhh-”

“Tissue?” Nishinoya’s voice cut in as he stuffed a few tissues into his friend’s hands, just in time for Asahi to let out a last big sneeze to finish off the tickle.

“ahhH’HHDTCHhhoo!!! ugh...”

To avoid any more outbursts Asahi immediately blew his nose, and a few more times just to make sure he was really done.  He looked up timidly as Nishinoya barked a short laugh but he found no malice or mockery there as he had worried, only mirth and fondness.  He felt the tightness in his chest ease.

“WOW Asahi-san, that was intense!!”

“Ahaha sorry Asahi, I didn’t mean to tickle you like that.  Here let me wipe this off for you, I won’t use contour this time.”  Saeko smiled as she gently wiped away the mess he was sure he’s left on his face.  He was tempted to check in the mirror behind him but decided to save himself the embarrassment of seeing black running down his ckeeks and brown smudged all up his nose.  Before they could try again they heard the door open.

“GUYS FOOD’S HERE!!”

Saeko immediately jumped up and hurried down to the kitchen, yelling something playfully at her brother.  As Asahi finished cleaning his face Nishinoya grabbed his attention.

“I was right you know,” his red lips smirked mischievously.  

“It looked good on you.”

[turnupswritessometimes]

The One With the Zombies - AshEiji - Ch7

Title: The One With the Zombies

Chapter: 7

Word Count: 4022

Description:  Another what it says on the tin from me - it's a Zombie Apocalypse AU because how else could this anime/manga get any darker? Whilst on the run from the outbreak of zombies, reporters Ibe and Eiji stumble across a New York street gang, safely huddled in an abandoned warehouse. As if the undead weren't surprising enough, Eiji finds himself becoming closer and closer to the gang's leader, mysteriously dubbed Ash Lynx. But safety doesn't last forever and soon it's only Ash and Eiji. And they're up against more than just zombies.

Note: This is available on A03, and I would recommend you follow it there, as I remember to update it. I would post a link, but then Tumblr wouldn’t include it in search results.

7

Eiji had read Peter Pan once. He distinctly remembered a part that mentioned whenever the Lost Boys were growing up, Peter would take them out to the forest and would return on his own. With a grim look on his face. As he looked at Ash he decided that was what it had meant. It was exactly the look he had on his face as he walked through the door.

They'd been given one of the backrooms, still mostly full of storage boxes containing ready-made sweet n' sour sauce and curries and easy cook rice. Ash Lynx was important, apparently. Eiji had found that out as he'd sat on the air mattress, freshly washed but still with blood stuck under his finger nails. One of the boys - one of the younger ones - the one Eiji had heard Shorter call Soo-Ling - had leant against the door and stared at him.

"Do you even know who he is?" he has asked.

"Who?"

"That's Ash Lynx you're tagging along with."

"I know." Eiji's voice sounded strange to him. Much too calm and soft for how he was feeling inside. Inside was a maelstrom.

"But do you? Really?"

"He's a gang leader."

"He's the reason the gangs stopped fighting. He was the reason Chinatown was doing so good. He is a legend," Soo-Ling was almost misty eyed as he said it. "So who are you?"

"Tired," Eiji replied. Soo-Ling looked surprised at that answer and Eiji felt his cheeks grow hot. He laughed and finished drying his hair with a towel that stunk of mildew. "Eiji Okumura. I was a journalist. Kind of."

"Kind of?"

"I was mainly just along for the ride."

Soo-Ling stared at him for a long time with dark eyes. "There must be more to you than that."

Eiji shrugged. "Sorry to disappoint you."

Soo-Ling kept staring, like he was waiting for a more satisfying response. When he didn't get one, he had sunk to the floor, pulling a D.S out of his hoodie pocket and playing it with earphones in. Eiji wasn't sure if that meant they were friends or not.

It seemed like an age before he was called away to go on watch, leaving Eiji alone again. That was when Ash returned. At first he had been relieved - incredibly relieved, because the blood had been scrubbed away and his hair had never looked so blonde.

Then he had seen the expression on Ash's face.

Neither of them said a word. Eiji wished he could - wished he did know what to say. But he knew there was nothing. Something had happened - something he could guess at and he knew that Ash wasn't going to talk about it.

Ash had lay on the air mattress without saying a word, his back to Eiji. Eiji was so exhausted that he followed suit, feeling aches pulse through his body from the bicycle ride.

He hadn't been sleeping when he heard it. The gasps of air of someone trying desperately to hide that they were crying. He half rolled over to see Ash's shoulders shaking.

It was always easier not to say a word. He shuffled around and slipped an arm around Ash, pulling him against him gently. Ash turned easily, folding himself under Eiji's chin and still trying to find air to gulp down.

Eiji just kept hold of him, their legs tangled in a mess and Ash's hair tickling his face. It smelt of the carbonic soap that had been in the bathroom.

He had laid there until dawn, drifting in and out of consciousness.

Eiji's fingers hovered over Ash's hair. He had the urge to brush it off of his face, but paused. He didn't know how Ash would take that.

Instead he crept out of the room. The main restaurant was full of people sitting around. Some were cleaning guns, others knives. Eiji wished he'd kept the chainsaw, though he had no idea how they would have carried it here.

Soo-Ling wasn't around, so he found Shorter. He was easy to spot - hunched over a takeaway box of noodles and slurping them into his mouth.

"Eiji, right?" he asked as Eiji jumped up onto the table next to him. His legs swung embarrassingly off the ground.

"Yes. Shorter, right?"

"That’s right."

"Is that your  real name?"

Shorter smiled at him. "A Chinese kid can't be called Shorter naturally?"

Eiji blinked and it made Shorter laugh. There was a lot less laughter here than there had been with Ash's gang and it sounded harsh against the silence. Everyone was drooping. They glanced around at the slightest of sounds or movements and moved rarely but quickly, as if they were trying to preserve their energy. Shorter seemed to be the only one unaffected, but he still had dark smudges under his eyes.

"How's Ash?" Shorter asked, continuing to eat.

"Sleeping."

"It's not his real name, you know."

"What?"

"Ash," Shorter paused to slurp some more noodles. Eiji waited. "That's not his real name. He chose it. Ash Lynx. Lynxes can't be tamed."

Eiji wasn't sure what to say to that. It made sense - Ash Lynx hadn't sounded like a name anyone could have been born with. He wanted to ask why he chose that – why it was important to him that lynxes can’t be tamed. He wanted to ask what Ash’s real name was. But it wasn’t Shorter’s place to say – he wanted to hear it from Ash. To see Ash open up to him.

It would probably never happen.

"He saw his brother, didn't he?" he asked instead.

"Did he tell you what happened?" Shorter seemed like he knew the answer already from the look that he gave Eiji.

"Not a word."

"There was a gunshot." Shorter said it so simply. It was a matter of fact. It told Eiji all he needed to know – all he had suspected.

"Poor Ash," he said, mainly to himself.

"Poor Ash, what?" a sudden, loud voice said in his ear. There was an arm around his shoulders, Shorter's too, and in the next moment Ash's face appeared between them. His eyes were still puffy and it sounded like he had a blocked nose. Eiji decided to ignore that.

"Poor Ash hasn't had a cigarette for two days," he said. He glanced at Shorter, who smiled at him.

"Yeah, and I'm not sharing mine."

"Are you kidding me? After all I've done for you?"

"Get fucked, Lynx."

"Fuck you." Ash blew his fringe from his face. "I know I should have brought that hand with us. Traded it."

"I wouldn't have let you," Eiji said. He leant against Ash slightly - just so that he could feel him there.

"What hand?"

"Eiji got a zombie hand attached to him. Snapped clean off."

"That's fucking sick!" Shorter was grinning. "Was it moving?"

"Ew, no." Eiji grimaced at the thought.

"Shame. Would have been really interesting." He gave Ash a sideways glance from over his sunglasses. “Would have been worth a pack of tobacco. Maybe even a little weed.”

“Why am I even friends with you?”

“Because I needed someone to protect my pretty face in juvie.” Shorter laughed, taking hold of Ash’s chin and making him laugh too.

"Juvie?" Eiji echoed.

"Juvenile hall," Ash explained and had the decency to look embarrassed. At the confused stare Eiji gave him, he continued. "Prison for kids."

"We got in trouble a fair bit in our youth," Shorter said. He leant into Ash, pushing him further into Eiji and almost sending the three of them off the edge of the table.

“Because you’re so wise and worldly,” Ash elbowed Shorter back.

Eiji didn't know why he was surprised. Of course Ash had been to juvenile hall. Of course he'd been arrested. He was a gang leader. But he had never thought of Ash intentionally breaking the law. Of robbing or shooting actual people - people with jobs and lives. Living people. He'd Ash would have a past like that. That made him a criminal.

But Ash was good. Ash was a good person, Eiji knew that.

So did it matter that he had been to ‘juvie?’ What if he had been to actual prison? Did that change things? Eiji didn’t think it did. It should have. But it didn’t. This was the same boy that defended his English, taught him how to shot a gun and who picked him up in a farmhouse. The same Ash. What did his past matter?

“I bet Eiji’s been in more trouble than us,” Shorter said, and he had the condescending tone of someone who knew the answer.

“No.” Eiji wasn’t sure if he imagined Ash’s arm squeezing him tighter or not. “I’m just – ordinary.”

“Yeah, that’s him. Completely ordinary, right?” Soo-Ling appeared, headphones hanging around his neck. He stared at Eiji as though he was waiting for him to come out with a confession.

“Soo-Ling – how’s it going?” Shorter asked.

The boy shrugged. “Everyone’s still dead. Found a quarter by the door, though.”

“Eiji’s not ordinary,” Ash said. His chin was buried in Eiji’s hair. “He’s Okumura Eiji, walker-slayer.”

“Just call them zombies!” Eiji turned, pushing against Ash’s arm so that he had space.

“Mmm, I don’t want to be offensive.” Ash was smirking, tilting his head to the side in mock-consideration.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re adorable.”

“We have a no kissing rule!” Soo-Ling said loudly.

That made Ash pull away suddenly – Eiji did too, fixing his gaze on the floor. He felt his face burning as Ash yelped, “what?!”

“The two of you were flirting.” Soo-Ling shrugged, taking a tray of Chinese food from a passing kid and tucking into it before they could object. They flipped the bird at him and he flipped one back. “I don’t want to see you making out.”

To his surprise, Ash laughed, slipping his arm back around Eiji’s shoulders.

“You know, one day, you might not mind it so much,” Ash said. His hand caught Eiji’s chin and suddenly he was staring into green eyes inches away from his face. He was sure that Ash would be able to hear his heartbeat. “Right, sweetie?”

Eiji froze. He couldn’t talk, swallow or blink. He could only stare at those eyes. Ash could smile with his eyes.

“Nope, still prefer a good chow mein,” Soo-Ling said, over Shorter’s loud laughter.

Ash paused, for a moment looking as though he was going to kiss Eiji’s forehead, but then he was turning away and pulling the cigarette from behind Shorter’s ear and slipping it into his mouth.

Shorter jumped up immediately, reaching for it. Ash managed to duck and weave away, still chuckling. The others started to cheer each of them on, shouting like they were watching an American Football game.

Eiji watched with a smile fixed on his face. He wanted to join in on the fun, but he felt strange. He hadn’t expected to talk things over with Ash about what had happened last night. But he also hadn’t expected the flirting. There were a lot of things he didn’t know about Ash, he realised. Then, there was a lot of things he wanted to know about Ash.

There was a lot of things he wanted to know about Ash, but he wasn’t sure if he could now that there had been the kiss. The kiss and the pet name that didn’t mean anything because it was all just teasing or adrenaline.

If his racing heart was anything to go by, at least.

*

Ash broke again that night. That was his own phrasing. It wasn’t like crying. It wasn’t mourning or grieving or sobbing. It was breaking cleanly in half like a geode and being completely naked. It was opening the floodgate of shit that he had done and being forced to think about it all until his brain decided to give up completely.

He had seen Griffin behind his eyelids all day. Griffin’s pale face and lank hair and defeated eyes. His smile as he said Ash was almost a man. It had almost been like he was proud. Proud. Of Ash. That didn’t make sense. And he knew he wouldn’t have been if Ash had told the truth. He wouldn’t have called Ash a man. Not in the slightest. He didn’t deserve that praise.

Eiji’s arms appeared again, pulling him close without a word. He was shaking slightly as he found a grip on Ash’s vest. But then he just lay there, holding Ash as if he would be able to catch all of the pieces breaking off of him. As if he would be able to put Ash back together with his bare hands.

If anyone could, it would be Eiji. Eiji, who had basically learnt English in two weeks. Eiji, who had stayed up with Ash every time he was on duty, just to keep him company. Eiji, who had a smile like a firework. He wasn’t jealous of that genuinely happy smile. He just wanted to watch the show.

And Eiji had been the one who looked terrified when Ash had put his arm around him. When he had turned on the charm partly to tease him – partly to see if he would go along with it. He wasn’t sure if he had wanted Eiji to go along with it. How quickly would his stomach turn? And he wasn’t sure how he felt about the blushing, staring face. He had looked almost scared.

Ash hadn’t wanted him to be scared. But it was probably better than going along with it without hesitation. Maybe it was worth it – just to see that blush. It had made Ash’s heart pound. He wasn’t sure what was up with that.

He gripped Eiji’s t-shirt in his hands to get his attention – just in case he had somehow fallen asleep.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Eiji was quiet for a moment. His hand moved up Ash’s back, as if he was expecting him to move back. He stayed frozen. There was a tiny blue light from a freezer at the back, but It wasn’t enough to see by. Just to help provide silhouettes.

“Ash?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Ash continued.

“It was what you had to do,” Eiji murmured.

That made Ash frown. It clicked in the next moment. “You’re talking about the other night.”

“You’re not?”

“I meant earlier.”

“Oh,” Eiji took a breath. “It was fine.” The breath meant that it wasn’t fine. Not really. “We don’t have to talk about it. You don’t have to talk about anything.”

“I don’t know what to talk about,” Ash whispered. He tightened his grip, pulling Eiji towards him as if he would be able to hide in his chest. “We weren’t close. Not anymore. When I was a kid. Before he left. Before I left.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

Eiji’s thumb started to rub circles into the small of Ash’s back. “Let me be sorry anyway.”

His breath escaped him a burst that strained his skin like he was a balloon. Eiji pressed him closer without saying a word.

“I don’t know what I was thinking earlier.” He continued.

“Don’t worry about it.” Eiji said. He swallowed and his voice sounded thick when he continued. “Let’s just not talk about it.”

So Ash did. He kept quiet and thought about how warm Eiji’s arms were around him. About Eiji’s smell filling his senses. Carbolic soap. He could fall asleep like this. He felt safe and comfortable.

"Ash?" Eiji asked. He managed to make a small sound in response. "Have you heard from Ibe-san?"

"No." Ash could feel Eiji's heart sinking. "He probably has his phone off. To keep his battery."

"'Mm."

"You'll be safe here, with Shorter. Until they get here."

"Why are you using 'you?'"

"What do you mean?"

"You said I'll be safe here until Ibe-san comes. What about you?"

Ash took a breath. He raised a hand without meaning to and found his fingers in Eiji's thick hair.

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to stay with me."

He had been thinking it all day. Since yesterday. It was something that was much easier to say in the dark.

"I'm not leaving you," Eiji said, like it was obvious.

"Don't be stupid, Eiji." Ash sat up, scattering the old picnic blanket and hoodies they had been using as duvets. "You'll be perfectly fine with Max and Ibe. He's meant to be looking after you, right? I'm not-"

"You've done a better job of saving my life than Ibe-san did." Eiji sat too and the blue spark from the machine was reflected in his eyes. "You saved my life."

"I'm the reason your life was in danger."

"My life would have been in danger anyway."

"This isn't up for debate. I'm not - I'm not someone you should be around."

"There's no debate. I'm staying."

Ash huffed and wiped the leftover tears from his face with the palm of his hand. He stayed staring at the door with gritted teeth so that he wouldn't fall for those puppy dog eyes.

"No. You're not."

"I am." Eiji said, and when Ash glanced over he saw that Eiji had his arms crossed. " Of course I would want to be around you. You're my best friend."

"You've known me for two weeks."

"And I feel closer to you than any of my friends in Japan."

"Eiji-"

"What makes you someone I can't be around?"

There was a sudden knock on the door. It was so loud and abrupt that Ash almost jumped. Eiji did, jogging the air mattress.

"If you're not going to sleep, then could you go on watch?"

It was Shorter's voice and he sounded amused.

"Sure," Ash replied, without looking at Eiji. He pulled the door to the storeroom shut and had every intention of just leaving. But then he glanced back. Eiji was staring at him with a determined expression on his face.

He hadn't won the argument.

"What makes you someone he doesn't want to be around, Ash?" Shorter was smiling slightly as he kept pace with him over to the door.

“You can choose from a list of slurs. Whore is a popular one.”

“You honestly think he’ll care?”

“Of course, he fucking will.”

“Because I care so much, you know.” Shorter’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. He held out a rollie between his fingers, almost taunting Ash with it. Ash took it, flicking sparks from his lighter as he lit it. He held it in his mouth, but didn’t breathe in.

“You’re different.” Ash shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets, hunching his shoulders as he stared out onto the empty street. It was normally still full of taxis and tourists.

“I’m not pretty?” Shorter raised an eyebrow. He took a drag from his own cigarette and the smoke came out in puffs.

“Oh, you’re gorgeous. And you grew up with this life.” Ash finally took a drag, taking the cigarette from between his lips. Fuck, it felt good. He had known the craving was bad – enough to drive him insane. He hadn’t known how deep the relief would be.

"With zombies?"

Ash looked at him and simply rolled his eyes. Shorter just laughed.

"What did you think would happen? That you'd never meet someone normal and settle down?"

"Did you?"

"Of course.” Shorter leant against the doorframe. “Cute house, cute kids, cute wife.”

“Cute.”

“’Course, you might want to change the cute wife part.”

“Is this a roundabout way of asking me if I’m gay?”

Shorter shrugged.

“Fucking Max asked me the same thing.”

“Who the fuck is that?”

“Some dick my brother knew.” Ash paused. “You know, just because some pedo made me blow him doesn’t mean I’m gay.”

It was hard to say, as if he was talking through a hard lump in his throat. He heard his voice crack and gritted his teeth. Tobacco fell from the end of his cigarette and onto the floor. It curled there like tiny worms.

“That wasn’t what I was thinking.” Shorter said. His voice was soft and gentle. Like he was trying to tame a wild horse.

Ash blew his bangs away from his face and didn’t reply. There was a sick feeling settling himself in his stomach – fighting against the anger in his chest.

“I was thinking of the way that you look at him.” Shorter continued.

“Don’t know what you mean.”

“You let your guard down around him. I’ve never seen you do that before. With anyone,” Shorter said. “The fact that he’s a guy doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it fucking does.”

“Why?”

Ash didn’t look at him. He shrugged his shoulders and felt younger than ever. It did. It did matter. Of course it did, because Ash’s body had not been his own. His sexuality hadn’t been up for debate. It was finally his. He was finally free of what everyone had stuck on his back.

“It doesn’t matter what I am,” Ash said. “He’s not. Eiji’s not-“

Not like the others. Wouldn’t be like the others. But how would Ash know? Eiji had saved his life. He trusted him. Completely. Eiji was different.

“How do you know?”

Ash tossed the cigarette onto the floor and felt the heat through the thin sole of his trainer. It didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter. He wouldn’t let it matter. These weren’t things that he could think about.

They were things he didn’t want to think about. It meant acknowledging too much. Dealing with too many feelings that he’d set on fire long ago.

"I don't think past tomorrow,” he said.

"We'll survive this, Ash."

"And how are you so confident?" Ash rested his head on the doorframe, turning to look at Shorter. He could feel a smile on his face, despite his better judgement.

"Because I'm me." Shorter shrugged. "And when this is all over, you better not let that boy go."

He turned to leave, the slope of his shoulders showing how utterly exhausted he was.

"Who are you, his mother?"

"If that's what it takes to see you smile."

Ash gave a disbelieving huff, turning his attention back to the street.

He had been smiling, hadn't he? He smiled all the time. No, it wasn't a smile, it was a smirk. Ash smirked at people. But there had been times where that smirk had turned into something else. Those times were normally with Eiji. When Eiji was grinning up at him with the eyes of a puppy. As if Ash was his friend unconditionally.

And maybe he was. Maybe he would be.

But Ash couldn't take that chance. He couldn’t afford to take that chance. It was selfish, but he wanted to keep those puppy dog eyes for as long as he could. Before he had to say goodbye. There was a feeling in his gut that told him this wasn't going to last. It couldn't last.

A walker was stumbling towards him. Its arms jerked in front of it as if it wanted to find its way and yet realised how cliche it was.

Ash took the shotgun that was resting on the side of the door and checked the silencer was on it. He flicked the safety off and took aim. Probably, he could have left it to shuffle past, but he was pissed off now.

It turned to him. For a moment, he could see Griffin's features staring back at him. The same blank eyes.

But then he blinked and this was an entirely different man. A man with a beard and wrinkles around his eyes.

Ash took the shot. The men fell with a soft thump to the floor.

It was easy. Too easy. The kind of easy that made him think Shorter could be right - that there was an end to all this.

And yet he could see more shapes down the road. Could hear a building front being torn into.

They may have been safe for now, but it was still impossible to think past tomorrow.

[aswithasunbeam]

Exhaustion

Summary: In the early months of 1794, a Congressional investigation is pushing Hamilton to the limits of his endurance. Besieged, betrayed, and abandoned, he turns to his wife for comfort.

[Read on A03]

A persistent throb had started behind Hamilton’s right eye several hours ago and seemed now to only grow in severity. The coach clattered along towards his house, the squeaky wheels and pounding horse hooves loud in the otherwise dark and deserted Philadelphia street. The late hour and the cold of the early spring night had left the whole city quiet. He held his hand to his aching temple and closed his eyes for the duration of the journey.

His house was as dark and quiet as all the others on Market street as he disembarked the coach and made his way up the steps to his door. One lamp was still lit in the entryway, the fire in the empty parlor burning low. Eliza must have gone to bed already, he realized. He fought down his disappointment; he could have used her counsel and good company tonight.

He shrugged off his greatcoat and deposited his case in his dark office, not bothering to light a candle. The headache was becoming intolerable. The thought of sitting down to work made him feel ill. He’d get up early in the morning instead, he promised himself.

The children’s rooms were all dark as he passed along the upstairs hallway. His bedroom, however, was aglow with warm candle light and a crackling fire. He smiled weakly as he eased the door closed behind him. Eliza’s head was tilted back against the headboard, a book open in her lap. Clearly she had been trying to wait up for him. He’d have to find a way to ease her into a more comfortable position without waking her.

He stepped into the dressing room to change for bed. He was so utterly exhausted. The Congressional investigation into his conduct as Treasury Secretary had been going on for almost four months, now. He’d invited it; in fact, he’d specifically requested it, to put an end to the slanderous talk that he’d abused his office. When he’d sent the request to Speaker Muhlenberg at the end of December, he’d expected a rigorous investigation to follow, but he’d never imagined anything quite like this.

Within a month, he’d been inundated with demands for stack after stack of treasury documents and petitions for long written explanations of complicated transactions. Despite his still shaky health, fighting the last vestiges of his near deadly fever, he’d met each new demand to the best of his ability. Then the hearings had started. Endless hearings, every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday for the last month and a half. They demanded his testimony at almost every session. When he wasn’t testifying, he was tracking down information on all aspects of his life during his time at Treasury, including detailed transaction summaries for all his personal bank accounts.

All this, he’d managed. It would all be over soon, he’d tell himself, time and again. He’d clear his name, and then he could resign. He could handle whatever the Jeffersonians threw at him until then, he convinced himself. At least, he had, until today.

Until that terrible, terrible letter.

A copy was still in his pocket, slightly crinkled from being hastily shoved there as he was leaving the office tonight. He couldn’t bring himself to look at it again, though the words were stamped in his memory. The feeling of deep betrayal rose up again, cutting and painful. His whole body was trembling with the force of the emotion, his hands shaking so badly he had difficulty undressing.

“Honey?” Eliza’s voice floated in to him, sweet as a siren song in the midst of a storm.

“In here,” he called out weakly. “I’ll…I’ll be just a minute.”

He rushed to pull on his nightshirt, then blew out a harsh breath, willing the trembling to stop. He forced a smile onto his face and re-entered the bedroom.

Eliza was sitting up fully now, her book closed and laying on the bedside table.

“I’m sorry I was so late again,” he apologized.

She shook her head. “It’s all right, sweetheart. I know how busy you are right now. Do you have to go back in the morning?”

He nodded.

“Well, you’d best get some sleep, my love,” she said, patting the bed in invitation. As he moved towards her, she craned her neck, and asked, “What’s that?”

“What?” he replied, stopping short of the bed.

“That paper in your hand,” she clarified.

His gaze snapped down. He had the letter clenched in his fist. He hadn’t even realized he was still holding it.

“It’s…it’s a letter.”

“A letter?” she echoed, brow furrowing.

“From President Washington,” he added.

“Why are you crushing it in your hand?” she asked.

He hesitated, then climbed into the bed and held it out for her to read. She smoothed the paper out against her legs, her eyes darting over the words. When she’d finished, she looked back at him, confused.

“I asked him to write a letter to confirm my testimony. That…” he trailed off, voice hitching embarrassingly. He swallowed and pointed at the document in his wife’s hands, “That was what he sent me.”

Eliza stared back down at the letter.

“Sir,” the letter began, a cold and distant salutation, “I cannot charge my memory with all the particulars, which have passed between us, relative to the disposition of the money borrowed.”* It didn’t improve from there.

Eliza shook her head. “I don’t understand,” she whispered. “Why would he do this? Why would he try to distance himself from you?”

That was exactly what Washington was doing, Hamilton thought. He was distancing himself. As though he was worried that Hamilton’s actions would somehow taint him. As though he believed, along with everyone else in this Godforsaken country, that Hamilton had done something wrong.

Hamilton shrugged in response, his eyes burning suddenly. Washington had always been the one person—the one person—who believed in him. That had been his one consolation through all the mudslinging and backstabbing that passed for politics in this new nation. He hadn’t really realized it until he’d read that letter, but somewhere deep down, he’d truly believed that Washington would always stand by him, always shield him from the worst of the opposition’s vitriol. Now, his faith in his great General was shaken.

“Oh, honey,” Eliza sighed, wrapping him in an embrace.

“I’m so tired, Betsey,” he whimpered, hot tears leaking out as he rested his head on her shoulder. “I’m just so tired.”

“I know,” she cooed, squeezing him gently. “It’s all right.”

He shook his head. Nothing was all right. “I hate this.”

“I know,” she repeated.

“I feel so alone.”

He was alone, utterly abandoned by everyone he’d once thought a friend or confidant. There was no one left he truly trusted, no ally to which he could turn.  His memory suddenly flashed to the end of the war, when the country had been new and full of promise. He’d had such faith, back then.

Of course, he hadn’t thought he’d be doing this alone. Laurens was supposed to help him. Together, hand in hand, they were going to build their new nation. They would have forged a  strong alliance between the North and the South. Laurens would have been an implacable foe to the likes of Jefferson and Madison. Laurens would have stood by him through everything.

A high, keening sound emanated from him as a sob ripped its way out of his chest. “It’s not fair,” he cried, clutching at his wife desperately. “I wasn’t supposed to have to do this alone.”

Eliza rubbed his back firmly.

“Why did he have to die?”

One of Eliza’s hands ran through his hair. “I don’t know, honey,” she answered. She seemed to know who he was thinking of, although he’d given her no indication.

He sucked in a breath and tried to calm himself down. He pulled away from Eliza slowly, sniffling, and wiped his hands over his eyes. His face felt hot. He was sure he’d gone red and blotchy from crying. His head ached worse than ever, his stomach now a little queasy from the incessant pounding, made worse by his emotional outpouring.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Eliza’s eyes looked damp, and she shook her head. “Don’t be sorry,” she said, leaning over to kiss him chastely. “And you’re not alone, honey.”

He nodded a little.

“I know I can’t help you with everything you’re going through right now, not the way John could have. But I’m here for you. I’m on your side. Always,” she assured him.

He started choking up again. “I love you,” he whispered. “I love you so much, Betsey.”

She hushed him gently and said, “I know, sweetheart. I love you, too.” Her cool hand stroked his cheek.

“I…I don’t feel well,” he confessed plaintively.

Her expression was soft and tender as she suggested, “Why don’t you lie down? You need to sleep. Come on.” She blew out the candle and then guided him down towards the pillows. He curled up against her, his nose buried in her hair as he clutched at her.

“Everything’s going to be all right,” she whispered to him, her hand stroking up and down his back. “Just sleep. Everything is all right.”

He let himself believe her as he surrendered at last to his exhaustion.

[hoeimaginethis]

Disobey | Natasha Romanoff Smut |

Anonymous requested: love your writings! Could you maybe write an Natasha x female reader Smut where Nat is her usual dominant self but the reader is a cocky lil shit and decides to misbehave (like she’s like lay down and the reader like hmm lol no) and Nat gets really frustrated and punishes the reader. (Like idk I just love the kinky stuff) I got as kinky as I possibly could before I felt like I needed a bath in holy water, so I hope you enjoy it ;)

Summary: You love to be punished, and Natasha loves punishing you. A win/win for everyone involved.

Warnings: PWP (porn without plot), spanking, choking, hair-pulling, orgasm denial, swearing, bondage, sensory deprivation (blind-folding), praise kink (?), thigh riding, fingering, tribbing, oral, over-sensitivity. I think that’s the lot

You just couldn’t help yourself sometimes. You loved to make Natasha so frustrated she could throttle you.

You smirked up at her as you sat on the bed, hands clasped in between your legs as you looked up at your girlfriend, who glared back down at you.

“You think this is funny, do you? Defying me in front of the team, disobeying direct orders?” She snapped, her hand reaching out to wrap itself in your hair, pulling your head back further as she climbed onto your lap.

“No, of course not.” Your answer was made to seem all sugary sweet and innocent but Nat knew you better than to believe your little act. Her hand tightened its grip, pulling harshly and eliciting a moan from the back of your throat.

“Stop with the attitude, or you might just regret it.” She growled, lowering her face so it was level with yours. With what movement her grip on your hair gave, you pushed forward, brushing your lips against hers.

“Maybe you should give me a reason not to give you attitude.” You suggested, your voice lowering and becoming more seductive. Her eyes darkened and she closed the little gap between your faces, pushing her lips against yours harshly. It was by no means a sweet kiss, teeth clashing and biting, Nat’s grip on your hair tightening to the point you thought she might pull it out of your head. Moaning, your hips bucked up, chasing the delicious friction you needed so desperately.

“Don’t. You will do exactly as I say tonight, nothing else. If you disobey, I won’t let you cum, and you wouldn’t want that would you?” She teased, her other hand coming up to rest on your throat, not applying any pressure, just letting you know what could happen if you continued to misbehave.

“Take off your clothes and lay back.” Her voice was nothing above a growl and you unabashedly moaned just at the sound of it. But you wanted to push her to her limits, make sure you would never forget this night for as long as you lived, so you sat up further and pressed your chest to hers.

“Make me.”

The two words seemed to snap Natasha’s patience as she grabbed around your neck and threw you back on the bed. Her hand gripped at the sides of your shirt and she pulled, sending buttons flying everywhere. She pushed it off your shoulders, taking your bra as she went, before reaching into your bedside draw and pulling out a length of silk rope and a blindfold. A shaky inhale let her know that you knew what was next.

“Arms above your head.” Her demand left no room for protest, so you did exactly as she asked, raising your arms and grabbing a hold of the bed posts. The silk was soft against your wrists as she tied you to the bed, giving you a little room for pulling but not enough to go wild.

“Lift your head.” Another command, her voice shooting straight through you and you knew that by now you had definitely soaked through your panties. But you did as she asked, and then you were plunged into darkness.

“What’s the safe word, baby?” She asked, kissing your shoulder, and pulling a shaky moan from your lips.

“Widow.”

“Good girl. Are you ready?” With a nod, you felt Nat move, grabbing onto your pants and beginning to tug them down your legs. You went to move but were stopped by a sharp slap to your leg, pulling a high pitched whine from your throat.

“Don’t. Move.” She growled. Once she was sure you weren’t going to move again, she finished tugging off your pants, just leaving you in your red lace panties, the ones you know she loves so much. You heard her groan, before there was a hard kiss against your clothed core. Not expecting it, you jumped, but moaned out nonetheless. Nat pulled back, leaving you to whine. Her weight left the bed and you heard the rustling of clothing, leading you to assume she’d undressed herself. There was a weight on the bed, in between your spread legs, and Nat’s hands slid up your legs before she flipped you over, twisting your arms and surprising you. It wasn’t uncomfortable, and you wiggle with anticipation of what was to come next.

“So you want to act like a little bitch in front of the team, do you? You want to defy me in front of everyone? You are going to regret that by the time I’m done with you baby girl.” Her breath fanned out across your exposed back. There was a moment of silence, before her hand came down on your ass. The sharp crack filled the room, along with your squeal.

“Count for me. And if you lose count, we start again. Got it?” You nodded and she began her assault on your rear.

Crack! “One,” Slap! “Two, ugh” Smack! “T-three, oh,” On and on it went. You got to twelve before your safe word tumbled passed your lips her hand immediately coming to rub and sooth you.

“You did so well baby, you’re my good girl. Beautiful and red, all for me. My good little girl.” She praised, making you gasp, arching into her touch. She knew how much you loved hearing her say these sort of things to you.

“But we’re not done yet. You disobeyed orders, baby. Meaning what?” She asked, turning you back over so your arms were straightened out.

“Punishment.” You whispered, excited by the idea. You were sure you were embarrassingly wet by now, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“Good girl.” And with that she ripped your panties to shreds, pulling a loud moan from your mouth. You loved how dominant and aggressive she was, loving it when she put you in your place and showed you who was in charge. Her fingers dipped inside you, collecting your wetness and smearing it across your clit as a form of lubricant. She blew a stream of cold air on your soaking core, sending a jolt straight through you. You could hear her small laugh, before she pushed two fingers inside you, using her thumb to rub at your clit.

“Ah! Shit, oh my God, Nat!” You cried out, arching into the touch. Your moans and groans were like music to her ears, as she pushed into you faster and harder, curling her fingers to brush against the spot that had you screaming.

“My good girl. So responsive to me, aren’t you baby?” She cooed, making you groan out.

“Yes, oh God. Nat, I-I’m gonna, ah!” You couldn’t finish your sentence, just as you were about to leap into your orgasm, she pulled away. You sobbed in the pleasure and pain of missing your orgasm. Natasha laughed, pulling your blindfold off, before she straddled your thigh, making sure not to touch your aching pussy. She slid, slowly at first, over your thigh, her wetness smearing across your exposed leg.

“Are you mad at me baby? For not letting you cum?” She barely finished her question before a low moan tumbled from her mouth. You nodded, mesmerised by her using your leg to get off. She picked up the pace, chasing the high she had denied you. Her moans grew in volume as she got faster and faster, closer to her orgasm. Her breathing hitched as her movements got sloppier, her legs twitching. You flexed your thigh muscle and that sent her over the edge.

“Y/N!” She screamed your name as she came all over your thigh, her cum spilling out of her and onto your thigh before rolling down and landing on the sheets. The sight of her with her head tossed back, nose scrunched up, breathing heavily and sweating was enough to make you whine.

“Please, can I cum now? Please, please, please!” You whined like a child, bucking your hips. With a small smirk, Nat nodded, climbing off of your leg and straddling your pussy instead. She didn’t bother with building up the pace, setting a fast pace from the beginning. You bucked up, twitching, knowing that your orgasm wasn’t too far away, and neither was her second one. Her hand shot out and wrapped around your throat as she moved faster, bringing you closer and closer to the orgasm you had been denied.

“Come on baby, cum for me. My good little girl, cum into my cunt. Come on baby, now!” With her command, you cried out bucking up as you squirted into her, triggering her second orgasm. She slumped over you, but still didn’t give you a break, sliding down your body and latching her mouth to your core to clean up the mess you made.

“Oh, God! Nat... I… it’s too much… I-I’m gonna...” You trailed off bucking into her face, still overly sensitive from your last orgasm. She nodded, moaning into you as her tongue slipped inside of you. Her whole mouth sucked on you, pushing you into your next high, screaming out her name and convulsing with the amounts of pleasure coursing through you. She pulled away from you after drinking in all you had to offer, reaching up and untying your hands.

“You okay, baby?” She asked, kissing your wrists, and looking up at you. You nodded, still jolting from your orgasm. She smiled kissing you on the forehead, pulling a blanket over both of you and bringing you to cuddle against her side.

“I hope you know, I’m never obeying orders again if that’s the punishment.” You spoke, making Nat laugh.

“We’ll see, baby. We’ll see.”