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futureplayboibunnie · 1 year ago

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Aphrodesiacs Pt.10 (Finale)

Miguel O’Hara x fem! spidey! reader

You and Miguel were bitten by the same spider…what could possibly happen?

okay grand finale for y’all. I REALLY BUST MY ASS TO MAKE THIS A LONG JUICY ONE. i was listening to once more to see you by mitski writing this soooo.

NSFW AS ALWAYS 18+

You kicked Miguel out that night.

Yes, it was petty. Yes, it was bitchy. But you really couldn't be around him, not when you had to go to HQ tomorrow. You got a taste of his lifestyle and you found that it was enough.

You didn't want to be a secret side fling but you didn't want to be in a relationship either, you were confused, and being near Miguel never made you clear-headed anyway so you found it very easy to kick him out. He wasn't saying the right things to you and to be honest, you didn't care if it was petty. You wouldn't settle, even if it was Miguel. But then again, it was Miguel- the man that makes you bend to his will, the man that makes your pussy sore and your body ache, the man that can make you cum over and over again until you're biting into the bedsheets. Your mouth went slack at the mere thought. You had to put your foot down, although it felt so fucking good, you wouldn't reduce yourself as someone he fucks from time to time.

You really weren't looking forward to Monday.

Monday morning was hell.

But as it approached nightfall, everything became worse.

Miguel was pacing in his office, his trembling fingers rubbing the skin of his forehead. He couldn't work properly, not when you so casually said 'leave' and shut the door in his face. He couldn't lie, it definitely stung, almost like he was being rejected by the popular girl in high school, reducing him to an awkward, idiotic mess in front of a pretty girl. The thought made his eye twitch, embarrassment twinging at his chest. The issue that was heavier than the embarrassment was the frustration and regret, he couldn't help but feel sad about it- but he would much rather die than show it. After all these years of keeping himself hidden, keeping busy with his work, with his role as a leader...he really didn't know how to open up to anyone. The only person he had ever gotten properly close with was you, and that was just sex. He hadn't had an intimate conversation about his true feelings with a woman he wanted before. It was always just about the sex. But with you, it had always felt like it was something more, maybe it was the spider, maybe it wasn't- he just wanted to be...near you. Lyla had heard him humbling to himself, cursing in Spanish. She was looming over him trying to see what was up with him but he just waved her away.

What if you were already fucking someone else? Did you hate him? What if you never spoke to him again? His jealousy over hypothetical scenarios was messing with his head. He frowned. Miguel felt a surge of anxiety and insecurity flow through him.

Miguel won't cost his dignity to approach you first though, it was always a challenge between you two, this cruel dance of death, the constant miscommunication, the back and forth. You were both just as stubborn and as unrelenting as each other.

Maybe if he just gave an excuse to see you, maybe if he had you in front of him he could actually talk about it instead of being a cold, unfeeling monster everyone saw him as. Miguel's face dropped as soon as he thought that, his brows furrowed in misplaced anger. The truth is... he was afraid. Miguel hasn't been afraid since Gabriella disappeared in his arms. Now he was about to lose you too.

He didn't want to risk it, he needed to do something.

Miguel pressed a few buttons on his watch, scrolling down to your name and alerting your watch to come see him. He didn't want to make excuses anymore, he just felt lost and you were the only one to find him, you were the only one to save him from eternal damnation. You were his sin, his haven, it felt...it felt like you were his everything at this point. This weekend gave him a glimpse of heaven and now he was aching for it back, yearning for it like a clawing dog at a closed door.

When you saw the notification on your watch, your lips curled downwards and your face shifted into a grimace. You let out a deep sigh, your face softening a little. Okay, another chance. Another chance to see him. You hated that you wanted to see him, but you just had to. Although you stood by your decision, you still felt a fraction of guilt just kicking him out like that. All you wanted from him was to tell you how he felt, not just about this tension between you but his feelings, your chemistry. If there was a future outside of this, if his heart was ready for it, to be open to love. You were scared to admit it, you didn't want to but you had to....you were falling in love with him. That weekend taught you so much about yourself, but it barely told you anything about him. He was unreadable, unknowable. All he was able to show was anger or frustration. You wanted to know if you were important enough for him to let you in. You just wanted to know him. Not just as Spiderman 2099. Not just as the spider that happened to bite both of you. Just Miguel. The heart he loved from, the brain he thought from. You wanted to love him, but he was so hellbent on pushing you away and you didn't want to force him to want you.

You knew this was a necessity. One last time, one last chance before you decided what you wanted.

Anxiety coursed through your bloodstream but you didn't show it as you finally walked into his office and Miguel felt your presence immediately, like your scent was his sustenance. You walked in confident but it always felt like Miguel saw through you, but you didn't know that, again, he was unreadable.

His eyes pierced through yours, a sad and frustrated look carving into his face, he couldn't tear his eyes away from you, he never did. Miguel threw his head back, signaling for you to hop up on his platform. You huffed reluctantly and swung up swiftly. when you landed on your feet next to him, his presence already formed goosebumps on the back of your neck but you were still defensive so you crossed your arms with an intent look.

"You wanted to see me." You say flatly.

“We left things...abruptly.” His voice was low but unconfident, he didn't know how to start, he needed you to take the lead for him.

“Think that was best.” It felt like the words were getting lost in your mouth, you still weren't looking at him and it made Miguel frown. His hand raised to grab your chin softly for you to look up at him and when you did you were met with sad, insecure, guileless eyes.

“Please just...look at me.” His voice was just above a whisper, a plea for something he wasn't sure of. Your mouth opened to speak but your brows just tensed, a moment passing between you as he touched you softly, almost affectionately.

You grabbed his wrist and let his hand fall off of your skin. “What do you want from me, Miguel?” You breathed impatiently.

“Just talk to me cariño.” The softness of his voice contrasted against the frustration on his 1 face, harsh lines of uncertainty and anger played on the softest parts of him, your cold words twisting the knife even further- but he still won't give you the power to hurt him. Miguel wasn't sure if he was capable of letting anyone in, let alone you. The thought slashed through the forefront of his mind and it made his heart hit his gut. He was scrambling for something, his mouth went dry and his hands went numb.

If only he stopped being so self-righteous, so bent on sabotaging everything good in his life. You sighed.

“I don't wanna be some...casual fuck buddy that's of momentary use to you.” A grimace plastered your face as you said it, you didn't want to be reduced to a hole that he fucks from time to time, you wanted him but you're not stupid, you still had your dignity.

Maybe Miguel pried it out of you before, but now you were just irritated. Your hands went to cradle his face, desperate eyes meeting his, searching for an answer but he didn't say anything, his face wasn't giving anything away. “I need more, I want more...” You lean in, lips parting into sullen apprehension, pleading with him to see you. Your fingers rubbed his neck, but this time it was him that was prying your hands off of him.

“What you're asking of me is not something I know.” His utterances were gruff and stern but it was clear he wasn't actively seeking to hurt you, he just never liked articulating how he was feeling, but he wanted to change that- but people don't change overnight.

The sad look on your face just turned into one of surprise defeat.

“Am I not worth trying for?” You breathed and Miguel didn't like the way such a question caught him off guard, it was like his ears were ringing with it, with anxiety...with fear. It's not something he's prepared to deal with, he watched your eyes dim, and your brows raise in disbelief in front of him in real-time and it made him feel even more guilty.

“You're enough for me now.” Miguel lied through his perfect teeth and his answer was making you even more upset, slivers of sadness echoed through him. You let him lie though.

“Then why are you trying to change me?” Your voice faltered a little, and it sent shockwaves down Miguel's spine. He watched as your nose pinched pink like you were about to sniffle in sadness but you kept your guard up, you definitely wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

“I'm not.” He said matter of factly, his face softening for a moment when his fingers brushed a few strands of hair behind your piping hot ear. “Don’t you see? It's you who's changing me.” You felt the depths of his voice scream in sincerity, soft-spoken. His gaze will always be as haunting as it is captivating, the one that makes you feel that you can finally see through him, but it was a beautiful illusion of the bliss he could bring you but never actually could.

“What am I to you, Miguel?” Miguel felt that you were actually withholding your anger from that and even then it still stung, you were still venomous yet harbored a tragic sadness that he couldn't help but feel guilty for. He was making you this miserable and you weren't even in a relationship. The passing thought struck him like lightning. “I know I'm not being fair or rational right now but I want more... need more from you.”

Miguel breathed out in frustration, placing his hands on your shoulders as if to shake some sense into you. “I want to. I want to give you more. I just-“ He forced the words out of him, manning up for the first time other than putting his fists in other people's faces.

He wanted to be good. He wanted to do good for you. But like he told you, he was never a good man to begin with. His lip quivered for a second but he didn't want to be weak in front of you...but you were breaking down his walls, at his door yelling to come in no matter the consequence. It would get you killed. “I don't want to hurt you.”

“Why? I'm not this fragile, breakable object that needs to be kept behind glass at all times. You recruited me, you know I can take care of myself, so why is all that changing now?” You were tired and angry and you just wanted him to want you, to fight for you.

"I'm the one that needs to protect you, no one else can do that but me.” He gritted out, his teeth clenching together.

'”What about me? What if I want to protect you? What if I want to take care of you for once?” That was all you were trying to get across, that you wanted to love him, that you wanted to care for him.

“No.” He said simply.

“So, you can want me but I can't want you? That's such backward logic, Miguel. I just..I want you to know that I care for you, I want you. Not just Spiderman or the aphrodisiacs we've become - you. I want to know you, I just want you to let me in. Why won't you let me do that for you?”

“Because you're mine now!”Miguel's grip on your shoulders tightened. He was practically yelling at this point, he couldn't do this.

As much as he wanted to tell you, the words just died in his mouth. Miguel wanted to cry, he hadn't let a tear shed in so long, and now he was this pent-up ball of emotion that he couldn't even fathom let alone differentiate. He hung his head in between you, his head now facing the floor as his breaths started to turn into heavy pants. “Because you're mine now...I’m the only one that can protect you. But what is that worth when I’m so capable of hurting you. I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you.” He repeated gently, almost solemnly and all you could do was stare at him wide-eyed, stilling at his unexpected outburst. A tear dripped from his eye, he couldn't face you looking this weak. “I'm supposed to hold it all together, to protect everyone, to keep everyone safe, To keep you safe. I can't be weak, I can't be weak- I have to hold everything together.” He choked out, spluttering and then it all just clenched at his heart:he started quietly sobbing, his head still downcast but his hands softening on your shoulders. Your lips parted in pure unbridled shock, gaping down at him as he fell apart. You really couldn't fathom this, it was all happening so fast.

“I've failed.” Miguel stifled. “I've failed as a leader, a father, a lover. And it's all my fault...I can't hurt anyone else.” Miguel couldn't stop the tears streaming down his face, and then he felt it- your warm touch softly trailing the outside of his face, lifting it up seeing he connected with your sad, eager eyes. That look could make a man fall to his knees, and Miguel honestly felt like it, his knees went limp. Your hand gripped his face as you leaned into his body, he blinked his tears away as his gaze fell on you. Your beautiful face was ashen with sadness and he hated that he was the reason for it. But you were holding him like he was water in your hands. Your soft fingers smoothed away his tears and it was like he was at the altar begging for your forgiveness.

Miguel looked so beautiful. His heart was opening and breaking at the same time and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

Miguel O'Hara was crying out in front of you, red eyes now a subdued hazel that you could fall in forever and never look back. All you wanted was to take care of him like he has for everyone else, to show him that he's worthy of love.

“Look at me...” You tipped his chin up and his lip quivered. “You are not a monster. You are not just Spiderman. You are not what you think you are, I've seen you up close and observed you from afar and this weekend has taught me so much about myself and what I want. All I want is to take care of you, to want you.” You had never been this honest about anything. The sincerity coursing through your body oozed out of every pore, radiating your need to want him. Miguel felt his heart stutter and his face freeze, he clenched his jaw to stop tears from pricking at his eyes as your words hit him like a brick. “Don't be the mask, let it out.” You added quietly. You gripped the back of his neck and placed it on your shoulder, your arms wrapping around him as if you would die if you ever let go.

Miguel stilled and then he melted into your embrace, feeling your warmth, he felt like Icarus being dragged into the relentless flames. Your acceptance of him was almost enthralling. You grasped his head into your hands, your eyes flitting from feature to feature as you felt him quite literally freeze in place-your fingertips were the salve to all wounds, the medicine to all sickness and Miguel was as damaged as can be. The walls he manufactured were nothing but dust between his fingertips, your unshakable will to not let him go, to love him as he is, guilt ridden and desperate, made him feel limp. Miguel's underbite clamped in an attempt to stop crying in front of you like this, to be so vulnerable in front of a woman was as foreign to him as being happy. He hasn't been happy in a long time and now you were here wanting to make him all better.

"You have no idea how much you mean to me.” Your grip on his face tightened as if to show him how serious you were. Miguel sniffled and melted into your warm hands, turning his head slightly to kiss your palm. Silence whipped through the air, the crackling of nothing but each other's breaths keeping you both steady as you tried to find the words to say, and this time you were hellbent on being clear. “The moral ambiguity of your actions doesn't scare me, I feel like you don't understand that. The mistakes you made in your past don't define you. Bad people don't care if they're bad...and I know you're good. In your heart, I know you're good...It's why I love you.”

Miguel's eyes widened a fraction and glazed over twice. He felt his mind turn to white noise but he heard you clear as day, the words falling like scripture. Like you were meant to say it. The words felt so sweet and liberating in your mouth but your heart was plunging further and further down, afraid of his reaction. You loved him. The silence that settled between you was palpable, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from yours.

Miguel didn't say anything, he just grabbed you by the waist with his right arm, pulled you close, and smashed his lips against yours. The tears smeared his face and then dried into his skin. Your kisses were always passionate, but this was like wildfire spreading onto the ocean. A fire in December. Warmth in the darkness. Miguel's tongue seeked to find yours, a soft tangle of lust and tenderness- something that he thought he would never be able to have. He sucked the sadness out of your lips and it felt beautiful.

“Let me take care of you..” You whispered sensually in between kisses and Miguel groaned, his fingers pinching gently into your skin. “Let me love you.” Your soft tender sighs were the glue that seemed to hold him together, he paused, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Are you sure?” He was hesitant, unsure if you were willing to see past all of his mistakes, to love him as he is, to be intimate.

Instead of answering, you pressed your fingers against your watch to form a portal to Miguel's place, to show him that you don't care about anything other than him at this moment, that you were willing to accept him as he is. You weren't afraid of proving it, if you had to you would, and right now you were desperate to prove just how much you wanted him, Miguel's eyes widened when he felt the portal beam right beside you, giving you a soft hazy look as you extended your hand, offering him to take it

“Let me prove it to you.” You whispered and that was enough to do Miguel in.

You were his calling, a siren guiding him through muddy waters. He intertwined his fingers through yours and you felt like your soul was being bound to his with every second your soft touch traced against his. Whenever Miguel's hands were on you, they were calloused and rough, his talons protruding from his fingertips aggressively but this time...it was tender, it felt meaningful- his touch was gentle, the way he was holding your hand and letting you guide him to a fate he wasn't even sure of felt surreal. He just can't leave you alone.

You lead him into the portal as your grasp on him is firm, a warning for him to show that you weren't letting go, not this time. As you both stepped out of the portal into his living room, it sealed behind him and left you both blinking at each other compressed by the thick tension. Thank God for this watch, honestly, it could take anyone anywhere.

“Wait...” He muttered hesitantly as he stopped you in your tracks. Turning around, your gleaming eyes were lasered on him and you shivered into his touch as he put his hands on your waist as a means to stop you from going to the bedroom. His free hand went to cradle your face as his thumb caught on your lip. “Did I hurt you at all? When we fucked did I hurt you?” He murmured sensually and it sent a permanent smattering of goosebumps to dimple all over your heated skin. Miguel's eyes were dim with curiosity and most importantly seriousness.

“No. Never. You never hurt me.” You confirmed and it settled the pace of his beating heart a fraction, but it was always racing when he had his hands on you. “We've fucked but...You’ve never made love to me.” Your voice was honeyed and low, the words slipping from your tongue as you suggested it.

Make love?

Oh, baby, you don’t know what you’re talking about. He doesn’t make love.

All he knew was to fuck. Hard and animalistic. But that wanton scorching look in your eyes, so desperate for him to be gentle, to make you feel wanted. And fuck, he wanted you to feel cherished by him.

He hadn't been so intimate with another woman like this, even with the mother of his own child.

Your eyes were wide, lips wet and eager but not eager in the way that he always knew you to be, you were desperate to show him something new, you were taking control and he was following along. It was refreshing.

His thumb was brushing over those perfect lips, plush and pink with heat and blush. You were so damn beautiful it was haunting.

Your eyes fluttered closed and your sweet mouth pressed against his softly, pecking kisses at his lips as you slung your hands around his neck and rubbed his scalp tenderly. “Let me make love to you…” You breathed low and thick and Miguel felt his cock harden already, he whimpered into your mouth and your brain committed the once-in-a-lifetime sound to memory. You made Miguel O'Hara whimper, you felt like the luckiest girl in the world. Miguel melted into you, his atoms jumping within his body to the point where he leaned into you so eagerly. You opened your mouth to deepen the passionate kiss, he was going so fast but you placed your hands on his chest. “Go slow baby...Need you to go slow.”

Your low voice shot straight down to the tip of his cock and it pulsated within his suit. Miguel listened to you and his mouth moved slowly, his tongue massaged against yours gently, tasting the mouth he adored. You tasted even sweeter like this- this slow waltz of passion allowed him to savor every second of it. The fact that you were on your tiptoes wanton for his lips made him realize how sincere of a moment this was.

"You're so beautiful it hurts.” He pulled away and breathed raggedly. His words were making you so malleable, so bendy under his will and you wanted nothing more than to please him. It was at this moment that you grabbed his hands laced it between your fingers once again and led him to the bedroom. “On the right.” He said huskily.

You opened the door and Miguel trailed behind you like a lost puppy, eager to follow your every move like he was in a trance. He closed the door behind him and that's when you realized it was going to be a long night. Your hands slipped from his and you took a few steps forward so you were near the foot of his bed: You reached out and quickly turned on his bedside light. You wanted to see his face. Miguel just leaned against the door, watching intently to every microdose, to every fraction of a move you made- waiting for your next move. At this point, you wanted to test him. You let out a soft breath with the part of your lips and felt the zipper of your suit. Miguel tore through your clothes like a knife through hot butter just with the sharpness of his talons, this time you wanted to make this slow and less immediate. Miguel's eyes were fixed on you, eyebrows tensing with a strive he hadn't felt before. The tips of your fingers toyed with your zipper and you pulled it down hesitantly. You hear Miguel let out a short breath when you slide out of your suit, slivers of skin piercing his peripheral with your shimmering glow. The fabric pooled at your feet and you stepped out of it, only left in your pretty underwear and bra set. Even subconsciously you were dressing up for Miguel.

He sighed and his eyes fluttered closed when he saw how you looked under the golden glow of his bedside lamp, he saw you perfectly. Your frame was even more beautiful than the last time he gawked at you. His jaw clenched and his teeth gritted when his eyes wandered to your lips. You were biting it and small marks indenting the soft flesh. “Come here..”

Miguel stalked up to you slowly, playing along with you, feeling the gorgeous reality set over him.

You wanted to make love to him, and he wanted to make love to you. To feel you intimately, slowly, passionately. He wanted to take the time to memorize the way you react as he makes you feel good. When he fucked you, he only got flashes, now he wants the whole thing. He was hungry for it.

He was in front of you now, your breath mingling with his, and your eyes flitted from gorgeous feature to feature. Miguel's hand traced up your thigh in barely there touches and you hung your head to watch his ministrations and it felt like you were spellbound by his mysticism. His finger hooked onto the side of your underwear and twirled it gently. “Hmm.” He hummed in a clipped tone and his eyes met yours in a powerful connection. He watched the black of your eyes burst widely, you clearly liked what he was doing.

He was being so gentle with you, so slow. It felt so damn sexy. This waiting. This tension. It felt like the beginning of all of this but…better.

“Tell me, Cariño...What do you want me to do for you?” Miguel whispered as his fingers hooked under your chin to tilt your head back up, he noticed that your lips were already swollen by a few kisses. You were so gorgeous like this, it was inhumane.

“Undress me..” You murmured sweetly but the force of your words seemed more like a diverted beg. Miguel was savoring every second of this torturous process, watching the little twitches of that perfect body of yours under a magnifying glass.

“Hmmm. That what you want?”

"Mhmmm.”

With that, Miguel placed his palms on your back, feeling the straps of your bra as he traced his fingertips over the hooks, teasing you, watching the way your face and body reacted to his barely-there touches. You reveled in it, the uncertainty of the touches he put on you. He finally unhooked your bra, the snaps liberating you as the tension is being relieved bit by bit. You stifled a moan and that sound was so much hotter than a usual moan, you were suppressing it making it clear that you were already getting aroused.

And fucking hell, it was arousing. He wasn't even in you yet. See, before when you and Miguel were yearning for each other, neither of you was thinking straight. All you both needed was to fill each other, Now after that, there was something missing.

This feeling of emotional need was what was missing. This emotional connection and chemistry.

Miguel watched with creased intent eyes as he tugged the pretty bra off you, your breasts bouncing out of its confines. His eyes flicked to yours, one soft palm caressing your chest, that telltale squirm told him everything he needed to know.

“Such a beautiful body, such a pretty face. Like you were made for me Carino.”

“Miguel...” You whimper out slightly.

“What is it, baby?” His voice was gruff and smooth all at once, a velvety mixture of husky and sensuality. It was like he was cooing down at you. “Hmm?” You darted your head down as an indication to strip you of your underwear.

Miguel's lips parted as he understood immediately, his eyes didn't rip away from yours as he slowly bent down to his knees. He hooked his arms around the back of your legs and kept eye contact with you, a surge of arousal washing between you. He planted a few trailing kisses up your thighs and you squirmed into him lime clockwork. His fingers shimmied down your underwear delicately and you stepped out of the flimsy fabric.

“Kiss me.” You say under your breath in such a sweet voice. How could he ever say no to that? The last time he couldn't really remember it, he was so taken over by his primitive instincts that it was all over in flashes-relish every last bit of you.

Miguel let out a sharp breath as his fingers kneaded the soft flesh of the back of your thighs before he cupped the globes of your ass, he was taking his time to feel you, to memorize it all and commit it to memory. Every time he touched your skin, it felt like he was touching God or angel matter. As his mouth placed teasing kisses on your lower stomach his aind was beginning to reel. You were arching into him, your fingers sinking deeper into his hair. He gave you one last look as a confirmation and all he got back was a pretty blushing face with a slack jaw and parted lips. “Need you…” You muttered and that's when his mouth started to suckle on your pussy, his lithe tongue moving up and down and in and out, he was keeping you guessing and it made you all the more frustrated and wet. His nose nudged your swollen clit and it made your body jolt from the aftershock.

“You always taste like heaven incarnate...” he mumbled between licks and all you could do was moan. You were caught off guard when he started to suckle on your clit, his pace was torturous, so slow and you were becoming more and more needy.

“Miguel...Please I-“ You tried to protest but you weren't even sure what you were protesting for and before you could even get off he rose from his knees and wrapped his arms around you, his mouth shutting you up.

Miguel's hands were placed firmly on your ass, squeezing tightly whenever you moaned into his desperate mouth. Your lips were melting into each other and blurring into a slow, wickedly passionate make-out. “It was like my name was supposed to come out of your mouth.” He felt like a teenager about to lose his virginity he was that excited. Your arms hung around his neck and your tongue was so sweet in his mouth, exploring unhurriedly but he knew you were at your threshold- even though he got a taste, you were still reeling from the fact he wouldn't let you finish.

Your mouth unsheathed from his and you both took a beat to gawk at each other. A dark look fell onto Miguel's eyes as he saw your cheeks pink and red with arousal. His hands cradled your pretty face and you looked like a doll in his palms.

“Want me to make love to you, yeah? Make you feel just how deeply I need you?” His voice was strained and low, seduction scraping at his vocal chords and it sent waves of neediness course through your body. The connection your gazes held was a simmering fire that was beating with passion. It was impossible to look away

“Yes." You breathed out sensually, an angelic hazy daze clouding your brain as the word just fell from your lips.

“You're so beautiful, querida.”He kissed your forehead tenderly and your breaths became even more rapid when you felt your legs go limp. He was holding your face like you were a jewel, you leaned your head forward to kiss him on the lips and Miguel just held you back with just the might of his palms. “Easy ángel...” He murmured. “Be patient f’me. You wanted me to make love to you, let me take my time with you then mi amor. Let me feel you.” His easy words just made soft moans roll from your tongue, he was doing a damn good job at making you feel not just wanted but cherished.

Miguel planted a kiss on your temple, you were squirming in his touch, rolling your body onto his. “You know, I haven't been doing well without you...Even after a day, you make me lose my wind with just how badly I need you.” he planted a kiss on your cheek and whispered hotly in your ear. “I got you baby, stay still f’me." He then kissed the corner of your mouth and then fully engulfed your lips with his. You were red hot with anticipation, your senses skyrocketing with every second but the reality was slow and agonizing- it was perfect. You decided to take the lead now, you got Miguel on the bed and he leaned up on the headboard, your head was in between his clothed thighs and you pouted. Miguel quickly rid of the holographic suit and his rock-hard cock sprung free in front of your face. The look on your face was priceless, a mixture of eagerness and seduction- it was a brain fuck.

“Let me taste you too.” Your tone was doused in pure lust and before Miguel's eyes could widen, your tongue stuck out and licked the head of his leaking cock. It wasn't like the first time you gave him head though, this was solely focused on him, no challenges, no teasing, no games. Just making him feel good. You gave kitten licks to his sensitive slit, those barely-there touches already driving him to the sharp edge. Your warm, wet mouth finally covered his tip, suckling gently and swirling him with your tongue, the salty taste of him you craved was already filling up your senses, he tasted so good.

“Mmm..fuck.. you're too good to me, so good f'me.” He let out a strained groan as his head tipped back slightly. You lapped him tenderly, sliding him down your throat, little by little. It felt...loving.

Miguel felt himself still in place when your warm mouth left him hanging, it was you who was prepping him this time. You crawled onto his lap with this innocent glimmer in your eyes, a look that was of mere longing and yearning, a face so eager to please. You settled between his thighs and Miguel's face was steely and serious, he really wanted to show you exactly the kind of love he harbored for you but you had other ideas and Miguel was uncharacteristically allowing you to do whatever you pleased.

“Wanna ride you...” You say softly as your hands massaged at his shoulders and Miguel is already letting out small groans at the slightest bit of contact. You placed your hands on his and guided them to your face, the pads of his fingers traced over your skin and you tilted your head to kiss his palm, then you caught one of his fingers in your mouth, suckling and twirling your tongue around the tip of it softly. Miguel sighed deeply at the pretty sight before you let it go with a pop. “Can I do that for you?” You breathed out.

This all felt so...personal.

Like you were reaching to the darkest depths of who he was and loving him anyway.

It made him burn for you. Miguel's cock was slapping against your stomach, your eyes darted from his face to his length and it made you wet your lips. “Mhmm.” He rasped, his big palms landed on the dip of your waist, helping you guide yourself on him. Before he could though, you leaned in and chastely kissed the tip of his nose, the bridge of his nose, and his forehead. Jesus Christ, it was like you knew exactly how to make him putty in your hands. You gave him a lazy smile as you rose up and eased yourself down on his cock, your pretty pussy swallowed him up entirely like always- even after he's fucked you so many times, he still never got used to how wet and tight your pussy was. Your eyes never broke from his as your tits pressed into his chest, you whined in his ear and his hands burrowed in your soft sweet hair, the strands falling down like a waterfall. "Ah...Mig-“

"Always taking me so well. Do you have any idea just how good you feel, mm?” He grunted out, his big arms wrapping around you entirely, trapping you in him. He was always balls deep inside you, there was no space left between you and that was just how you liked it. “My pretty girl. My beautiful girl. I need you.” He cooed.

You moaned when your hips started subconsciously moving, grinding down on him and making discernable shapes on his cock. Miguel watched you with awe equated to being starstruck, you were bouncing on him and rutting your greedy cunt on him trying to get yourself off on him. “You always- Fuck. Fill me up so good.” You moaned out, your mind all hazy from his brute strength alone, he was forcing you to stay put on his thighs, spending whatever time you needed to please him. Miguel slowed you down as he caught your supple lips with his, it was a desperate kiss that was bursting with flames and then your pace got slower, savoring the kiss. You broke away with a moan and sunk your teeth into his shoulder blades, Miguel's mouth was on the crook of your neck peppering you with the sweet kisses you were aching for, and you felt him inhale the scent of you deeply. His hands apathetically palmed your tits, he rolled the nipples between his nimble fingers, pulling and nipping on them with his teeth and smoothing them with a suckle.

Hm.

He's not known for being kind.

But feeling you like this made him thaw.

Lord, he just wanted to please you, make you feel good and you were just as inclined to do the same thing-bursting each other up with the flames of passion.

“Mmm. Slow yeah? Slow for me. Take your time for me, baby.” He mumbled out through strained pants, you were jerking on him steadily and his eyes tore away from yours to stare at the bulge of your stomach- he was so fucking deep in you it bulged out of your tummy. Miguel's ego skyrocketed at the sight. Fuck, that perfect body of yours would be the death of him. "Look how fuckin deep I am- He pressed the bulge on your stomach and it made your body twitch wildly, you quite literally felt him pulsate inside of you and it made you clench even harder around him. He felt an orgasm approach him, teetering off that blissful edge that tipped between sweet heaven and damning hell.

God, he felt too good, stretching you and bottoming out into you.

When you pressed your forehead against his and whispered “I love you” to him, that was it.

Miguel moaned and rolled you over so that he was on top of you, his legs trapped you in place and his cock was still aching inside you, craving your friction. He weaved his fingers with yours as he pushed in and out of you, Miguel's knuckles turned white as your palm flatted from bliss into the mattress.

He had never done this during sex before, the simple intimacy of hand-holding turned into something so much more consuming. Miguel's figure loomed over you, his eyes piercing and moody, a whirlwind of passion and emotion making his eyes crystal clear than before.

You stared at Miguel.

Miguel stared at you.

Watching each fraction of your body intently, the way your face moved with every thrust, the plush of your cheeks pillowing whenever you whined, the crease of your eyebrows when he hit that spongy spot so deep inside you. The eye contact was driving both of you insane.

“This what you wanted? Me to look after you? Me to take care of you?” He questioned lowly, the strained words coming out in a deep husk. He was deadly serious, it was easy to see when he was glaring at you. That steely resolve melted slightly when you rolled your body against his, your bodies slid together so closely that not even a sheet of paper could fit through.

“Yes, fuck, yes.” You whispered against his lips, your soft breaths were being knocked out of you with a very torturous slow thrust. It made your collision all the more beautiful. Miguel had fucked you so many times during that weekend but this, was otherworldly, this was the true connection, this was lovemaking. He was cherishing you, treating you like pearls and gold in his hands and it made you feel lucky to be alive, The electricity was hot, the gaze you both shared was simmering heat encased with something other than just chemistry.

“I'm not hurting you am I?” He asked inquisitively, his voice cool and suave.

“No, no, no, no, no....No, fuck, you're perfect.” You responded in pleading tandem, your eyes widening with a worrythat he would stop

“I love you, you know that? God, I love you.” He babbled and that's when you felt his thrusts falter and your nerve endings singe, it was like he was taking your beating heart and meddling with it to go faster, to give in.

“I love y-“ Miguel cut off your words with a scorching kiss, his fangs nipped at your lower lip and his teeth bit the supple flesh and pulled back, it snapped back into place and a shaky moan fell from your swollen lips and hs grip on your hands tightened.

You were so close.

This sizzling passion was eating you up alive.

Miguel watched your body react to him and it was a sight created in heaven.

“Miggy...Mig...I'm g'na cum...Just wanna cum for you.” You moaned drunkenly. Miguel's lips captured around your nipple, suckling it and grazing it with his teeth before his eyes latched onto yours again.

“Cum for me baby. Wanna watch you cum for me.” He breathed out raggedly, his gaze dimming and hair in disarray.

Your pussy was so drenched for him as always, but this time you were leaking, the slow pace offering a new and rare kind of satisfaction. When his cock nudged and ground on your clit, you knew you couldn't hold it in anymore. Hot euphoria washed over you in waves, and a new kind of electricity coursed down your thighs anf you soaked his dick in your wetness. “Thaaat's it...I'm right here, I got you.” Miguel fucked you through your mind-altering orgasm.

It was so different. So surreal. When that list final whine fell from your pretty lips, he was already cumming before he could even stop himself. He spread your insides a thick stringy white, spurting out how much you meant to him. His strained pants were soaking your glowing skin, and a thin layer of sweat coated your body in the dim room.

“Shit...”He muttered before your lips collided with his. Your tongue delved into his mouth, taking what he would give you like you were a cat chasing after a mouse. Miguel rolled off of you to your side but his arms were still wrapped around you, your lips still connected in that heady unforgettable kiss. Your hands nestled in his hair, your gentle fingers raking through the strands as you broke away from his mouth and when you looked back into his eyes Miguel's gaze was just as piercing as before.

Miguel stared at you.

You stared back at him.

Your cheeks stained pink as you gave him a lazy fucked out smile. Miguel had the urge to fuck you like that again now. He loved what he had just experienced though. Missionary was so much better like this. It was so much better when he looked into the eyes of the woman he loved. When you kissed him on the forehead and told him you loved him, he knew that this was different.

A sudden wash of defensiveness tightened at his chest. You should've walked away from him. He should've walked away from you...but you didn't and that was a risk in itself, no one knew how it would unfold.

Miguel had his temper.

You were stubborn.

What if- What it-?

Miguel watched you like a lovesick fool, your pretty face warming his cheeks and dimming his eyes. He contemplated you for a moment, your presence, your smile, your warmth.

Was it worth it?

Yes.

He wanted to wake up to you every day, he wanted to take you out to dinner, make you feel special, make you his.

You both just gawked at each other blankly, sweet words filling the sweet atmosphere. All this yearning, all this pining lead up to this.

You were flustered. He was flustered.

You felt so fulfilled, so wanted, so needed by him- it had never been like this with anyone.

Miguel was facing his fears head-on with you by his side. His anxieties were quelled with every moment he spent here with you, he found that your soft breathing and guileless eyes were what was keeping him afloat.

Y’ALL I HOPE U LIKED THIS SERIES!!! the amount of support is unbelieveable ilysm! i will be writing an extra bonus chapter for u ;)) iknow i def need to do a masterlist and i will get on it soon i promise (tumblr deleted my old one smh)

taglist (giggles): @thel0velykey190 @scaleniusrm @drefear @mafer383 @i-feel-violated @crowleysthings @avatar-lover @wyvernnest @rowboatweeb @schniti-is-in-the-house ri @d1lf-loverrr @iamv1n @ro99se @nxrdamp @mrssabinecallas @jesmynsjoys @xiylio @leahnicole1219 @reine-sans @tallmanlover @neverlandlostchild @axerrri @frieschan @plzfeedmebread @rorel1a @z0mbiekat @rey26 @stunkbiggu @honeycovered-bandaids @hearttjason @brittney69 @thyroidissues @4imhry @pinkliquor @realalpacorn @dr-skazka @simoniithehomii @aisyakirmann @deezisnotreal @synamonthy @bread6069 @iite-cool @thedevax @soymiguelsesposa @heartthrobinsblog @siidmm @queerponcho @luvingmyships @dhollandhs @kehlanilopez @lyrasdrawer

#spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara

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lowkeyhollland · 5 months ago

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please please please

peter parker x reader "i beg you don't embarrass me motherfucker" 1k words

“y/n!” your best friend, melanie, ran up to hug you. “and you brought…” her voice trailed off at the end as she gestured to the brunette boy standing next to you.

“oh! this is peter. he’s my uh,” you stumbled over your words, “friend?” it came out more as a question and you hoped no one noticed how unsure you were. you looked up and saw peter smirk.

“friends that kiss?” he whispered in your ear and your cheeks flushed red.

“so nice to meet you, peter! we’ve actually heard so much about you!” melanie pulled you two further into the party where all of your friends were.

“oh have you now?” peter’s eyebrows quirked up, curious as to what could have been said about him.

“it’s nothing.” you mumbled and crossed your arms over your body. “now just, don’t embarrass me. please?”

“honey, i could never embarrass you.” peter kissed your cheek and slipped his hand into yours as you two socialized with the rest of the group.

the lights were flashing in the club as bodies were pressed up against each other. peter had told you that he was gonna grab you drinks and squeezed past the sea of people toward the bar. you continued to dance with your friends, singing along to the music with a smile plastered on your face.

“where’s your boy?!” one of your friends asks. you looked around the club and realized peter was nowhere to be found. you mentally sighed as he had, once again, disappeared with no warning.

“he said he wasn’t feeling well,” you lied. “but you know! he’s like irish or something and they’re really good at irish goodbyes. it’s just, uh, in his culture.” you messed with your rings, looking side to side and hoped your friends were drunk enough to not see through your lies.

“oh!” that was all that came out of all of their mouths. a part of you wanted to rip out peter’s hair for leaving without telling you while the other part just wanted to die from embarrassment.

you seriously just had to leave again??

you texted him and to no avail, there was no response. letting out a frustrated sigh, you continued to dance with your friends to try and forget about the night.

you took an uber home, not trusting to walk by yourself in the dark. melanie had offered to let you crash at her place, but you politely declined as you didn’t want to be around anyone.

of course, you just had to fall for peter parker who’s notorious for never being anywhere— ever. and the cherry on top of it all was no matter how many times you texted him calling him a dick tonight, no response. absolutely ghosted.

you stumbled through your apartment, the whole world still spinning from the amount of shots you took tonight. kicking off your heels, you turned on the lights, revealing a red & blue masked man standing in the middle of your living room.

“i’m either super drunk right now or spiderman is actually in my house.” you slurred, squinting your eyes as if it would help you see him. he just stood there as you walked up to him. running your hand over his chest, peter’s breath hitched.

“i, uh,” peter coughed and you pulled your hand away.

“how did you get in?”

“your window was unlocked. that isn’t very safe.”

“i live on the tenth floor. what’s gonna happen? a bird trying to attack me?” you snorted.

“you never know, birds are quite dangerous.” it was hard to see his expression with his mask on and it took everything in you to not pull the mask away.

“as fun as this would be,” you gestured to him. “i was just ditched tonight and would love to be alone so i can cry in peace.” you opened your window to encourage the masked hero to swing away. “bye spidey.” you waved at him as you walked to your room.

peter knew it was now or never. he webbed your wrist to pull you back, stumbling as you were buried in his chest. he quickly took off his mask, breathing heavily as you stood there wide eyed.

“look, i’m so sorry for ditching you tonight. especially with all of your friends.” he started. you didn’t know what to say. peter, your peter, was spiderman. whatthefuck whatthefuck whatthefuck. “and i know you really wanted me there—“

“what the fuck.” you blurted out. peter’s eyebrows furrowed together, confused about your reaction, but his face softened when he really thought about it.

“oh yeah. i’m spiderman.”

“i can see that.” you bluntly said. “motherfucker, spiderman embarrassed me tonight?! you could have at least told me to leave too so we could make it seem like we were hooking up!”

“is that still an option?” peter smirked and you smacked his arm. “ow..”

“you literally left me. that’s what you get.”

“i’m really, really sorry. there was a robbery and this guy had a gun and— i’m sorry, y/n. i should have just told you.” his head hung low and you frowned. you lifted his head so you could see his face. there were small bruises and cuts and it made you sad to see him physically hurt.

“it’s okay. i mean, my boyfriend is literally a superhero. how cooler can i get?” his face lit up and broke into the biggest smile ever.

“boyfriend?” you smiled back at him and nodded.

“yeah, boyfriend.” you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him, tangling your hands in his hair. his arms still wrapped around your waist as he smiled into the kiss.

“so is that other option still available?” he asked once you both pulled away, his lips tugging into a smirk. you rolled your eyes and pushed his head away lightly.

“ask again when you actually stay at an event the entire time when you’re with me.” you started to walk away to your room and he chased after you.

“aw, c’mon babe. it was a joke!”

#peter parker #spiderman #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #tom holland #Spotify

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prettyboykatsuki · 2 years ago

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not so little | t. shouto

✮ tags ; gn!reader, minor age-gap (4 years), sfw

✮ wc ; 1.3k

✮ a/n ; this is not the most original idea ever so sorry but i wanted to write my take on it

"Seriously," Touya leans on the door frame of Natsuo's room, self-satisfied smile on his face "You're crushing on...Shouto? Our Shou-chan?"

You cover your face with despair at your predicament. You can't believe you're actually telling either of them. It wasn't like you were planning too. In what universe would you even think to do that deliberately?

But Natsuo is frighteningly good at grilling you about things when you refuse to tell him. Ever since he found out about your crush, he made it his lifes mission to harass you about it. You were careful, damn it. You didn't even actually tell him, he used to his annoying deductive reasoning to figure it out. You tell Natsuo everything.

He knows about every weird medical problem you've ever had, every partner you've ever dated, and every weird fit of crying you've ever cried in your life. He's your confidant. Your best friend. So he knows there's only two sorts of crushes you couldn't tell him about.

If it was on an ex or if it was on one of his siblings. His first guess was Touya - but he figure you wouldn't be this embarrassed about that since you often wolf whistle at him when you're in the house.

Then he guessed Fuyumi, because you're still embarrassed by how pretty she is. When you said it wasn't her - he was briefly stumped before settling in a shocked silence.

"...Are you crushing on Shouto? Seriously?"

Your embarrassment told him he was right, and now you're sitting in his room and hoping the world will swallow you because you're crushing on your best friends little brother of all things.

In your defense, it wasn't always like this. You didn't see much of the youngest Todoroki at all growing up. He was in his dorms for most of highschool and Natsuo spent most of his early adulthood ducking his parents house entirely. You only met him properly when he turned twenty. They're only living together now for Touya.

You kind of wish they weren't - since it'd save you the trouble of being embarrassed twice. You've been seeing Shouto a lot recently, since you've been coming over to hang out with Natsuo.

Shouto is not the 16 year old boy you always made. He's 22 and he's got tall and lean muscle. He's polite but sweet and strangely - much funnier than you could've ever predicted. He's genuinely very kind but most of all - he's been very direct on telling you that he likes you.

You don't think anyones ever pursued you like this in your life. Both of your last relationships ended amicably but neither of them had been this...direct with you ever. Shouto is very direct, actually. Direct in telling you which honorifics to use, and telling you how nice you look, and saying he misses you often. You've been dismissive. Even you're not so desperate as to openly pursue your friends little brother.

But again, he's not so little anymore. He's taller than you now, and he's got lean muscle. He always smells great. He is incredibly pretty in the fairy prince kind of way. This is by far the worst crush you've ever had to endure in your entire life. You've tried to forget.

But just last week he walked you home after patrols, speaking casually and kindly and good god - what is with the broad-shoulders? When did that even happen?

You want to die. You want to disappear into a black hole. You want to scream and cry. Why you're crushing on a boy 4 years younger than you? Why is Todoroki Shouto of all people make your heart flutter?

"Seriously... I mean I knew he was flirting with you pretty brazenly but," Natsuo looks like he's holding back a grimace. If you weren't holding back tears, you'd hit him "...Shouto? Like...really?"

"Didn't know our little angel was such a casanova. Crazy world we live in."

"Neither of you are helping." You say exasperated. Natsuo leans back on his palms, sighing a little. "Do you think I wanted this?"

"It's not the end of the world," Natsuo offers thoughtfully. You give him a meaningful glare from the corner of his bed but he doesn't budge "I mean..I guess if I got to pick who he dated, you're not at the very bottom of the list."

You kick his side. "That's so backhanded."

"He doesn't want to admit you two are a good match," Touya says thoughtfully, unwrapping candy from his pocket. A habit he picked up trying to quit smoking "He'll be lonely if you date Shouto."

"Shut up, Touya."

You ignore both of them for a minute trying to get your bearings.

"You think we're a good match...?"

Touya laughs hard "Is that all you heard? Poor Natsu, already being abandoned."

Natsuo shoots Touya a glare.

"Touyaaaa," You drag, reaching over to tug on the bottom of his shirt "Elaborate."

"And feed your delusions?" He says, clicking his teeth "Fine. Only because it's funny."

Natsuo hmphs, and you look at him apologetically. You two will have to talk about it later. Touya rolls the candy in his mouth, pulling his shirt up to scratch at his abdomen.

"Dunno. You're like... probably one of the only people who's not gonna treat him weird cause he's a good little hero. That brat... it's probably best for him to date someone normal and civilian-esque. Not like being a hero is the most important thing in the world to him."

You flush a little. This is really, really bad. Natsuo gives you a disapproving look. You look back at him a little softer.

"I won't date him if he's off limits." You offer. Touya coos at you both.

"Well aren't you darling."

Natsuo groans, laying flat on the floor.

"Ugh. It's not like I can just say no. It's enough of a miracle that Shouto is showing interest in anyone. And if he misses out on true love, even if it's," He gives you a sideways glance and shakes his head "Even if it's with you then I can't actually stop it."

"I'll reject him if you tell me too."

"What kind of older brother do you take me for?"

"Yeah, what kind of older brother do you take him for?" Touya mocks, laughing to himself "Aren't you just a saint, Natsu?"

"Touya, I'm gonna throw you out of my room."

"Ooh, someone's mad."

Before Natsuo as a chance to come back, the sound of the door opening from the living room downstairs floats up. Shouto calls out. You feel your heart almost fall out of your ass. Touya, delighted, is the first to reply.

"Shou-chan, we're upstairs."

You make a gesture of violence towards Touya who replies by pretending to jerk off then giving you the middle finger. You don't have time to collect yourself before Shouto is upstairs. He's back from patrols and he's a little sweaty. You feel heat creep-up up your neck.

"Touya-nii, do you still—oh," Shouto smiles soft as he realizes "It's you. I didn't realize you were here."

"I came in after class."

"Alone? You should've asked me to walk home with you."

You flush. Touyas' snickering is not helping you at all.

"Isn't that out of your way?"

"It's fine. I do stuff like that a lot," You're almost disappointed until he tacks on "But it's you so it's alright."

You look up at him wide-eyed. He gives you the ghost of a smile. God you're screwed. Before you can reply, Natsuo clears his throat.

"Go wash up. You stink." He chides. Shouto immediately goes back to being a little brother, nodding his head.

"Okay. Then," He looks at you directly. You're so screwed "I'll be right back."

You wait until Shouto is finally down the hall, listening for the bathroom door to thump shut before falling back into Natsuo's bed. Touya breaks out into a fit of laughter as Natsuo sulks in the corner.

But all of it feels like white noise when you compare it to the sound of your heartbeat, thudding hard in your chest.

#todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #todoroki fluff #bnha fluff #writing tag #this idea im sure has been done a million times but i just wanted to write my own version im sorrryfdjd

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serxinns · 8 months ago

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hey can you do a yandere class 1a x lightfury or nightfury reader bc they can shapeif into a dragon also love ur yan x reader fic

CHILHOOD I REMEMBER WATCHING THAT

Your classmates would be in love like so in love always wanting to pet you in your dragon form also did I mention that you can purr? oh buddy their hearts would be melting!

When you 1st arrived at school you were so nervous about how everyone would treat you like a disgusting horrible beast back in middle school, but surely you were wrong a bunch of students was crowded around bombarding me with questions and that's how your bond with them started

izuku was a dragon geek his new fixation was dragons now he would search up facts and information about dragons, how all eat, what's your blood type, whether are they warm or cold-blooded, everything he even had another notebook dedicated to his dragon research, and when he found out dragons can purr? Oh buddy that was his new fixation and goal but overall izuku is a pretty nice guy whenever you want to talk about stuff he always listens he's a great listener! The 2 of you would rant about your favorite hobbies alllll day

Mina and Ochako would be just all over you like Ochako would love to play with your tail wings and even horns but gently and if you ever made a dragon sound (like growls, purrs, grumbles, etc.) She and Mina would DIE of cuteness and would just pressure you to do it again and again and again until they chased after you and Momo had to step in and scold them, Mina is clingy and protective she always wants to touch, hug, and cuddle, pinch kiss all over you! She would decorate your horns and tail with stickers a BUNCH of stickers is very protective toward you, if someone would degrade you about ur quirk or form from their filthy mouth oh she's gonna clean it alright with her acid!

Shoto is usually calm around you his favorite part of the day is petting you on your head when you shift into a dragon one time when he was petting you, you started to fall asleep and made little soft purrs shoto was flustered and so were you, you begged him not to tell anyone knowing that it was very embarrassing and your classmates would be all over you shoto ofc agreed and reassured you that it wasn't embrassing and even admitted it was kinda cute...

Bakugo and his gang would be the most overbearing, especially with their chaotic behavior! Bakugo at 1st would think you were another extra or just some lizard breath but your high spirit and fierce got his attention and with your quirk, he started throwing a few empty insults forcing you to always be by his side, he occasionally would mess with your horns and mostly your wings, especially during training, kiri and you are sharp teeth besties he is so amazed by your dragon form if you were a famous hero he would be your number one fan! Would ask you to do tricks in your dragon or even let him get on your back so you could have a flying trip whenever you're insecure about something he'll cheer you right up with a hug and a bunch of manly compliments he one time saw you lift a 200-pound weight and he was covering his face red in the face like a high school girl

Sero and Denki are the chaotic duos Denki asks the stupidest questions about dragons and uses cheesy dragon pickup lines while Sero always does the "drag on this ball then" joke every time, Denki is so fascinated with dragons that he always asks A bunch of questions like "can you spit fire" "Did you ever save a princess?" "Is that green dragon on the screen related to you?" While you tried your very best to ask these idiotic questions without smacking the shit out of him with your tail servo, on the other hand, loves to tease your horns, and wings, especially ur tail one time when you and the bakusquad were watching TV sero accidentally stepped on it which made your tail smack the shit outta him in reflex, you kept apologizing repeatedly while Bago and Denki were laughing their asses off

Tsuyu and Takoyami are your animal beds always searching up funny animal facts about each other and laughing I can imagine Dark Shadow trying to flirt with you while you were in your dragon form and Tokoyami is trying to get him to shut up to get a flashlight and kept aiming at him tsuyu on the other hand just wants to cuddle up to you dragon form or not in dragon form she gives you a bunch of head pats and chin scratches, one time she heard you your purr while you were dosing off to sleep and she felt like she heard a beautiful melody but she never admits it tokoyami discovered this and also started to pet you they would go to a secret place where no classmate is there and stop cuddling, spoiling doing everything to hear those cute purrs

#yandere bnha #yandere ua #tw yandere #yandere x reader #tw obsessive behavior #yandere class 1a #yandere mha #tw stalking #bnha fluff

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niningtori · 10 months ago

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let me into your world | chapter one: my world is mine

pairing(s): choi beomgyu x you, choi soobin x you

summary: you're a hopeless romantic waiting for your soulmate, but what do you do when you finally find him and he doesn't want you?

genre(s): romance, angst, angst with a happy ending (?), soulmate au

word count: 7.1k

notes: for some reason, i feel SO embarrassed to post this. it was the first series i ever wrote, so it's getting a facelift before seeing the light of day, but it's still a little flabby in some places. bear with me, please! also, shoutout to evie for this layout with the lyrics in the center :') i'm tired of looking at my own uglyass posts so much omg. see ending for more notes!

your soulmate is perfect in every way, or so you've been told, and you're sick of waiting to find out. everyone says meeting your soulmate is like finding the other half you never had, so when the yearning had started when you were a teen, you were eager to find him and put an end to your constant ache. it would be impossible to know who it was until your seal appeared on your skin. where it would land and what it would look like, you weren't sure, but you knew it couldn't come fast enough. in theory, he would complement you in every way. you imagine someone quiet, a little shy, maybe. someone thoughtful, someone patient and understanding. you just hope to god he's everything you wish him to be.

beomgyu has had just about enough of soulmate talk, but unfortunately for him, it's inescapable. when he turned 13, the yearning had already started for most of his peers. when his friends asked if he felt similarly, he simply shrugged his shoulders with a smug little grin while musing that he might not even have a soulmate — maybe he was just partnerless. some of his friends, like taehyun and kai, were appalled by this, almost pitying him. half of his heart was missing, after all. some of his other friends, however, were a bit jealous. their reasoning was "it'd be nice to not be chained down by someone you don't even know". he agreed with the latter sentiment, having seen the effects of being chained to somebody firsthand.

he remembers watching his mother wither away. she had loved his father more than anyone, even him, and got scraps of affection in return. they weren't soulmates — her perfect other half had died not long after she met him, but his father became her second and last love. he didn't concern himself with soulmate talk and eventually married beomgyu's mother. they were happy, very happy, until beomgyu was around 10 and his father met his so-called soulmate. he remembers the sheer despair on his mother's face as she found out her husband was leaving seemingly out of nowhere, her life uprooted because of a fucking pattern imprinted on her lover's skin.

they weren't soulmates, but beomgyu watched his mother die a little every day until she finally passed. dying of a broken heart was the only way he could explain what happened to her, and she did all that for a man who wasn't even her soulmate. if soulmates could make you kill someone innocent for your love, he didn't want to find his at all. if love could make you abandon everything you've ever known, well, he simply didn't want to know what it felt like.

college is a turning point for you, you feel. you had a good time in high school, but you're nearing the average age of the seal and you're more than prepared to find your special someone. you couldn't know for sure, but you have a feeling none of the boys in your high school were your other half.

"why don't you date just to get some experience?" sumin asks somewhat exasperatedly. you had rejected yet another guy with seemingly good intentions for practically no reason.

"i don't know, i guess i just don't want to waste my time on anybody else when i already know my soulmate is out there waiting on me," you shrug. "i want to save all my firsts for him."

"you're hopeless, you know?" she snorts.

"yeah," you smile, "but he's probably the same way." she teases you good-naturedly for this, but even she agrees that you'll most likely fall for a guy just as hopelessly in love as you are. he wouldn't even have to try very hard — you're willing to put in however much effort it takes to find him and love him unconditionally. all he needs to do is reciprocate and you would do the rest.

unfortunately for you, time has passed and you're nearing the end of your time in college with no soulmate in sight. you'd be more upset about it if you weren't so fucking busy with school work and trying to line up a job post-graduation. you're so wound up lately that sumin practically forces you to let loose and go to a house party. needless to say, they aren't particularly your scene. you like to drink just as much as anybody else does, you guess, but that doesn't mean you want to reek of shitty beer, sweat, and premarital sex, which will undoubtedly be the case once you step into a college house party. still, she is as persistent as you are exhausted and you're too defeated to fight.

you're fairly bored after fifteen minutes or so of loitering around all the action, never really joining in on the antics of your friends and all the other party goers unless you absolutely have to. you're absentmindedly kicking around a beer can when it rolls away, straight in front of a couch. you go to kick it again when you look up and see him.

you can't keep your eyes off of him. you've found people attractive before, but he's probably the most beautiful person — maybe even the most beautiful thing — you've ever seen. your heart almost stops when you look at him.

in that moment, the idea that he could be the one blooms in your head and you can't help but stare. you don't how long you keep your eyes locked on him, but he eventually looks up at you and his eyes widen for a split second. you're almost positive he feels what you feel, but not even a moment later, he pulls out what you can only describe as a lascivious smirk as his eyes travel up and down your figure. you feel like meat on display rather than his sacred other half. before you know it, a girl is sliding into his lap and he's turning away from you and planting a heavy kiss on her glossy lips while groping her ass.

"that's beomgyu," sumin says and you're snapped back into reality. "he's really hot, but he's slept with pretty much every girl here."

you're somewhat disappointed before you realize you must be mistaken. there's no way a man like that could be your soulmate. you strangle the bud of hope in your heart mercilessly because your soulmate is somewhere waiting for you and you can't afford to lose him over some pretty boy with community dick.

you said you'd avoid him, but beomgyu is the first one you notice when you walk into the first class of your final semester as a college student. his eyes lock with yours and you hurriedly avert your gaze before sliding into the nearest seat.

"hi," a sweet voice from next to you says. you jolt and turn to look at him.

"sorry, i didn't mean to scare you," he laughs.

"it's okay, i'm just a little jumpy, i guess," you grin sheepishly.

"i'm soobin," he smiles and you can see his dimples come out. you briefly wonder if he'd mind if you poked them, but that sounds weird even to you.

you introduce yourself and find you're forgetting all about beomgyu as you and soobin begin to chat. he's funny in a dorky kind of way, and you can't help but giggle at the seemingly unassuming things he says.

beomgyu notices you when you first walk in because of course he does, but he sees you sit next to soobin, a guy he met in freshman year, and feels a sense of loss he's never felt before. he watches as you grin and giggle at whatever lame jokes the boy next to you is almost certainly making and his eyes darken. yeonjun, his longtime friend and desk mate, notices his sour mood and asks what's wrong. beomgyu can't really answer that question. even he himself doesn't know why he feels so against you, a stranger, spending time with another guy, but he chalks it up to the fact that he thinks you're hot and would very much like to get in your pants as soon as possible.

he supposes he should have done so when he first saw you, but duty called when one of his frequent flyers sat in his lap and he couldn't very well ignore the way her chest swayed in front of him. he doesn't think about it much more deeply than that. he doesn't want to think about how your eyes seem to indicate that you know him — have known him — and he feels the same way about you. he toys with the idea of maybe asking you if you two knew each other at some point, but deep down, he knows he'd never forget you if he actually had known you before. he tries not to think about why that is.

a few weeks into the semester, you've sat next to soobin every day and it's safe to say you have a tiny little crush on him, but you know he's not your soulmate when he rolls his sleeves up one day and you spot a green seal on his wrist. you roll up your own sweater, just to be sure, but there's no pretty green tattoo to match. he spots your empty wrist and the expression on his face looks an awful lot like disappointment.

"i don't really care about that stuff, you know?" he whispers as your professor drones on and on about something you've stopped listening to long ago.

"really?" you ask a little too eagerly before reining yourself back in. what are you doing? you have a soulmate and he's waiting for you.

"really, really," he smiles. you prepare to launch into a long speech about the sanctity of soulmates and how you're waiting devoutly for yours, but instead of pushing the subject any further, he simply turns to the professor again and you're left reeling.

you're pulled back to your senses when the professor announces everyone will be paired up with a partner for an assignment. you and soobin grin at each other and are ready to begin prepping for the project when your professor adds that the partners will be completely random. when he calls soobin's name, your fingers are crossed in hopes that you'll somehow still get lucky, but he ends up pairing him with another classmate named yeonjun. you start getting a sinking feeling, something akin to dread, and you don't know why. clarity overwhelms you when you register that the person your professor opts to pair you with is none other than choi beomgyu.

beomgyu is late to your first library appointment together and though you didn't expect anything less from him, you're still annoyed when he arrives nearly 15 minutes after the scheduled time with nothing but a mumbled "sorry" and a cheeky grin.

"it's fine," you offer, but you both know you're irritated. you're a little bit of a pushover by nature and it's like he could immediately sniff it out. he doesn't even make an attempt to seem like he cares, though.

"are you ready to get started?" you ask.

"of course, what are you waiting for?" you roll your eyes at his shamelessness, frustration melting away without you intending for it to. you're kind of shy, but his presence is so comforting, it's like you've known him for years, so you dare to say your next words without much thought.

"you, smartass." he looks a little appalled at your words but he registers it as a joke when he notices the corner of your lips struggling not to pull themselves up, eyes gazing mischievously from beneath your eyelashes. not for the first time, he thinks you're really pretty. but he, not for the first time, says nothing.

after a few meet ups, you realize being with beomgyu is easier than you thought it would be. sure, he's incredibly obnoxious, but he's surprisingly easy to talk to. he invites you to his apartment one day and, as if he senses your apprehension before you can even feel it yourself, he states his roommate will be there as well. you try not to read too much into it, but you have a feeling he's implying that he won't make any moves on you. you're grateful for this, but unexpectedly a bit disappointed. as for why that is, you don't venture to guess.

being in his apartment is a new feeling entirely. it feels oddly... intimate somehow when you enter his bedroom and see all of his posters, his messy bed, and some vinyls stacked up against his record player. he nonchalantly puts one on and you gasp when you recognize the song.

"i love this band," you say quickly. his eyebrows raise in interest.

"you like them too?"

"of course i do! i've loved them since i was a teenager," you laugh.

"do you like their newer stuff?"

you wrinkle your nose a little bit at this, your answer evident. he laughs his signature squeaky laugh at this and you can't help but stare in awe at his dimples, like whiskers, appearing on his cheeks. you clear your throat awkwardly and begin to talk about the project.

after a few hours and some really great progress, you find you're a little hungry. you're about to mention this, but beomgyu beats you to the punch.

"i'm starving. want pizza?" you smile when you realize you're on the exact same page.

"thought you'd never ask."

you're sitting on his couch now, wolfing down your third piece of pizza while beomgyu slurps the cheese off of his. he's talking about absolutely nothing, but he's still easily drawing more and more laughter out of you with his antics. you tell him to stop because you hate your laugh, but he's addicted to the sound. he wants to keep you laughing. words like "always" and "forever" briefly flicker across his mind, and usually he would force them out with conviction, but he's having such a good time hearing you giggle he can't pay attention to much else. he never says it or gives any indication he feels that way, though. he just tells you "i can't help that i'm so fucking funny and charming and beautiful." you lightly smack the back of his head and he's giggling with you.

things are going remarkably well when his roommate emerges from his room and says a few of his friends will be coming over soon. you don't particularly want to hang around them and you certainly don't want to overstay your welcome, but beomgyu, for reasons unknown, insists that you stick around.

"we can just relax for a bit then get back to work. c'mon, don't you wanna finish this thing?"

"fine, fine, fine. i'll stay." his face lights up at your words and you can't help but blush a little bit at this. why he's so excited, you have no clue. what you also don't know is he has no idea why he's so excited, either.

a few minutes later, a few guys enter the apartment boisterously and you can't help but internally regret sticking around. beomgyu, almost preternaturally, senses how uncomfortable you are and makes an effort to introduce you and include you in conversation. things are going well until one of the guys, whose name you don't know but whose face seems vaguely familiar, makes an offhanded comment.

"y'know, gyu, she's actually very smart. maybe you'll actually pass." the entire group bursts into laughter and joke about his supposed stupidity and laziness.

"he's actually very helpful. i couldn't do this without him," you counter with a little edge to your voice.

"maybe you're not deadweight after all," he says sarcastically. beomgyu just smirks and goes along with it. to the untrained eye, he seems perfectly fine, but to you, he just looks kind of sad. you pull out your phone and decide to text him.

you don't have to laugh if you don't think it's funny

he looks up at you and you nod encouragingly.

it's fine i really am kinda dumb

don't say things you don't mean. you're not their dancing monkey here to entertain them and you're not a fucking punching bag

his heart feels a little sour at this. how did you know he was hurt by their comments, no matter how seemingly harmless they were? even his own friends didn't seem to notice, but somehow, you did. you always seem to notice the little changes within him. like when he's tired and doesn't want to show it, you offer to take breaks or meet another day. or when he's stressed out so you try to wrangle even the smallest of smiles out of him — real ones, that is. he wants to say you're just a thoughtful and perceptive person, but in reality, he thinks it's a little more complicated than that.

it's beomgyu's birthday, which should be a happy occasion, but for some reason, you feel like shit. you wonder if it's a mix of anxiety because of the project or maybe because your time in college is coming to the end, but it feels so much more profound than that. you woke up this morning from a fitful sleep and it feels like there's a hole blown through your heart. if you feel like shit, you don't look much better, but you have to meet with beomgyu at his apartment and you can't be late.

"whoa, you look absolutely awful," he muses when he opens the door and sees you with two appalling dark circles under your eyes.

"wow, thanks, asshole," you mumble. you did, indeed, look and feel like utter shit, but being here seems to bring a sense of relief you did not anticipate.

"hey, i'm just kidding, you look pretty," he laughs. he's been saying things like this, lately. you can't deny the way your heart skips a beat, but you shoot down any further thoughts because you know, know, know he sleeps around and you know that seemingly off-the-cuff comments like this are probably part of the reason why he's able to do so as easily as he does. you're not to be trifled with, though, so instead of letting the comment fly off your back as you usually would, your mouth opens before you know it.

"not as pretty as you, beoms," you smirk. you don't know exactly what you expected, but his ears turning a rosy pink isn't it.

"o-okay," he says sheepishly, clearing his throat. you find him criminally endearing in this moment, and for once, you don't mentally slap yourself for it.

"oh yeah. happy birthday!" you say, pulling out a cupcake and decisively putting an end to the awkwardness.

"thanks," he says with a smile before eyeing you suspiciously. "is this poisoned?"

"give it back," you say monotonously and he giggles when you try to snatch it away from him.

"hey, i'm just kidding! thank you!" he says as he takes a bite and his eyes widen in surprise.

"mmm, how'd you know this flavor's my favorite?"

"i dunno, i didn't. i just kinda figured you'd like it," you shrug. you walk towards his coffee table, which is where you all have been working lately, and again he's plagued with the idea that you know him far more deeply than you should.

working with beomgyu usually goes smoothly, but you're exhausted. you're still incredibly sad for no reason, but being with him makes you feel less... empty? you would try to put a name to the feeling, but you're too tired to do so at the moment.

"want some coffee?" he asks as he watches you yawn for the umpteenth time since you've been here.

"please," you say sleepily. he smiles and gets up from the floor as you bury your head in your hands.

beomgyu has been in a relatively good mood since you've been here, and not just because it's his birthday. he can't explain why, but his mouth has pretty much been etched into a curve ever since you got here. he catches a glimpse of his smiling face in the mirror of his living room before opting to fix his hair a little, mindful of how he looks in front of you. when he does this, he feels a rough patch of skin behind his right ear. he's confused when he runs his fingers over it and feels grooves and lines where there shouldn't be.

he quickly pulls out his phone and takes a picture. what he sees horrifies him. a seal. it's pink and delicate, but has a complicated pattern he couldn't even begin to replicate. the day he's been dreading for years has finally come. he stares at the picture before shaking his head and ruffling his hair to cover it again. no. this changes nothing. he won't let this ruin his day — his life.

he moves to the kitchen and begins to prepare your coffee. when he reenters the living room, he hears you lightly snoring with your head resting on the coffee table. he smiles in spite of himself and places the coffee down. he wants to say you look peaceful, but your eyebrows are furrowed like there's something you can't quite figure out.

he chuckles softly to himself before subconsciously pushing your hair out of your face and behind your ear. that's when he sees it. pink like a blooming flower and as complicated in its pattern as the one on his head. he hurriedly pulls his phone out and compares the picture of his seal to the one behind your ear. he already knows, but he has to be completely sure. he's not surprised in the slightest when he comes to the conclusion that they are, indeed, the same.

when you awaken, you feel a pit in your stomach and you're genuinely on the verge of tears. someone would think you'd had a nightmare, but you hadn't. you're stuck in a whirlwind of emotions when you're snapped away from them by a soft baritone voice.

"you awake?" beomgyu asks.

"shit, i'm sorry!" you exclaim, wiping the drool off of your face and straightening up your hair. "how long has it been?"

"i dunno, an hour or two?" he says nonchalantly. you sense some resentment in his tone and you feel beyond apologetic.

"god, i'm so sorry. let's just finish this really quick and i'll get going. i'm sure you want to be done with this and celebrate your birthday," you say embarrassedly.

"i already finished it," he says, and even through your sleepiness, you feel his disdain.

"you... finished it? alone?"

"why? do you think i'm not capable of doing it by myself?"

"no! not at all! i just feel bad that you had to do it alone," you exclaim.

"well, it's done. so you can leave now," he says, not without urgency.

"leave? but i —" but what? but i wanted to spend more time with you? that doesn't sound right, but that's what you feel.

"you can leave now," he repeats with disgust that you can't quite understand.

"o-okay. i'll get my stuff and go, but shouldn't we review everything together just in case?"

"i have plans, so no," he says firmly. you have no idea why he's so angry. you want to say it's because he had to finish the project alone while you were knocked out and drooling on his coffee table, but it feels much deeper than that.

"thanks for finishing everything. again, i'm so sorry," you say as you gather your things and head for the door. beomgyu is ready to shut the door behind you when you look back to him and softly say "happy birthday, beoms." and the door slams shut.

when you get home, the first thing you do is cry. the pain in your heart is suffocating. you so badly want to know what it is that's causing this seemingly out of nowhere pain, but you can't put your finger on it to save your life. you decide to shower and have another good cry. after you shower, you look in the mirror as you twist your hair up in a towel. your fingertips rub against a rough patch behind your ear when you do so and you're stunned before you register what it is. you take a picture to get a better look at it, but you already kinda know what to expect: a seal.

it's more beautiful than you imagined it'd be, but instead of joy, all you feel is dread. but why? a seal is a happy thing. you should feel relieved to finally have it on you and he should, too. you ponder over this and come to the conclusion that it's not your pain you're feeling, but your soulmate's. you've heard about soulmates feeling each other's emotions before, though it was somewhat rare. the question is: why is he so sad? you don't know how, but you instinctively know it has to do with the seal appearing and it makes you drop to the bathroom floor in tears. this isn't how you wanted it to be. you clutch your chest, willing your heart to stop pounding so hard, but it doesn't.

beomgyu has been avoiding you, that much is clear. as to why that is, you have no idea. he used to greet you and strike up conversation, project be damned. you want to think about this more, but the depression you feel makes it hard to think clearly about, well, anything, really. you feel an emptiness you've never known before, and you can't help but feel like being with him would make it better. in a way, you're glad he finished the project alone because you're sure you wouldn't have been able to be much help at all.

when you walk into the class you share, his absence puts you at a loss you don't understand. you remember that soobin is yeonjun's partner and ask him if he knows anything about beomgyu's whereabouts. he shakes his head.

"i don't know the details, but yeonjun said he's been bummed ever since he got his seal." ever since he got his seal? that means he must have gotten it recently, just like you. the cogs in your brain start to turn and you feel the dread in your stomach again.

"why?” you ask tentatively.

"i dunno. i think he might not like his soulmate, but he won't talk about it any more than that," he shrugs. "hey, are you okay?"

you nod before touching the seal behind your ear. you feel another pang in your heart. what if... what if he has the same seal? what if... beomgyu is your soulmate?

after class, you practically sprint out of the room and to beomgyu's apartment. you pound on his door impatiently and when he doesn't answer, you pound even louder.

"what are you doing here?" he hisses when he swings the door open. you flinch a little, but you're determined to get some answers. you falter when you notice a girl, haphazardly dressed, appearing from behind him.

"who's this, beomie?" she says, voice silky smooth.

"kick rocks," he says simply. she shrugs and makes her way past you while fiddling with her clothes. you don't have to guess what they just got finished doing, and it hurts, hurts, hurts.

"who's that?" you say, eyes glassy.

"what are you doing here?" he asks again, actually a little embarrassed, but never showing an ounce of it. you storm into his apartment and he shuts the door behind you.

"show me your seal," you say determinedly.

"what? no," he answers defensively.

you reach for his long hair to lightly tuck it behind his pierced ears. he wants to stop you, but he can't bear the thought of batting away your hand. he hears you inhale a sharp breath as you see the pink seal behind his ear and he feels his chest becoming heavier and heavier.

"how long have you known?"

"since my birthday," he answers after a slight pause.

"and when were you gonna tell me?"

"probably never," he says truthfully. your hand drops to your side and he subconsciously misses the way your touch felt.

"why?"

"because... because i don't want a soulmate."

"what's so bad about me?" you ask as your lips tremble.

"it's not just you," he sighs. "i've never wanted a soulmate."

"then what's so bad about soulmates?"

"i just don't want one and you can't make me," he snaps and you wince, so he tries again. "look, you're a nice girl and everything, but it's never gonna happen between us, so you need to stop trying."

"even without the seal, i'd still have feelings for you. that's how much you mean to me." he looks a little taken aback by this, as if he never expected to hear those words from you or anyone, really, and it makes your heart ache. "can't you just give me a chance?" you look so earnest right now, but he's almost sadistically dedicated to squashing the sprout of hope that is almost certainly peeking out of you right now.

"no, i can't. you're not my type at all. if we weren't soulmates i'd never even look at you." he's lying but if he's not cruel now, he knows you'll never let go.

"but we are soulmates and you are looking at me right now."

"for god's sake, you're not hearing what i'm saying. i will never love you, alright? i tried to be nice about it but you keep pushing me. you look fucking pathetic right now."

your frown deepens, eyes reddened and hot. as a last ditch effort, you hurriedly say your next words.

"i can feel your pain," you whisper and his eyes widen. "i know you feel it every day. i know you're empty and you need somebody — why can't i be that person? i-i'll be whatever you need me to be." you've taken your heart and served it on a silver platter. all he has to do is hold it.

"because you're not what i need! you're not even what i want!"

the silence that follows will haunt him for the rest of his life. you look so small right now, so fragile. he almost wants to take everything back, but he remembers what soulmates mean and what they can do to a person. he looks at how vulnerable you are, how your heart is bleeding in front of him and how easily he can and will break it. he never wants to give anyone that power over him. no fucking way.

"i can feel your pain," you try again, and before he can reply you continue. "can you at least feel mine?" you look absolutely devastated with your eyebrows furrowed pleadingly, sobs racking your body. you look like you're going to be sick.

"i can't and i don't wanna," he answers flippantly with a shrug and a lopsided smile. "that's how much you mean to me." he knows exactly what to say and how to say it, the way only somebody who really knows you ever can. it's the final nail in the coffin for you. you will lock your heart for him in it and bury it as deep as it'll go.

"i've been waiting for you, you know? always. always." your eyes trail down to his hastily thrown on shirt and hickeys adorning his neck. at this, his jaw clenches and his eyes actually close in shame. you're not sure where your pain ends and his begins, but for the first time, you don't really care. a burning rage fills your heart and your dignity demands to be taken seriously for the first time. you're a doormat, sure, but you won't be anymore. not for him, anyway.

"i don't want to see you anymore. don't you ever fucking talk to me again," you finish and with a spin on your heel you're sprinting towards the door.

you are true to your word. when you walk into class after the entire debacle, you don't even spare him a glance. even if you can feel his gaze on you, you remain perfectly unfazed. he asked for this, he thinks. it's the way it should be. still, nothing really consoles him when he sees how tired you look. he can't feel your pain, but he can very well see it, and he wishes he could take it away. he regrets what he said to you, but he knows you'd never give up if he had given you even a sliver of a way out.

you're a good girl, though. a lot of people will come your way if you'll just let them. he feels a pang in his chest when he thinks about what they'll be like. he doesn't like to imagine it very much, but his thoughts wander that way more than he'd like to admit. he can't fathom anyone being good enough for you, really. especially not him.

do you feel the way he hates himself for the way he has to treat you? he doesn't know for sure, but he's pretty convinced when he sees you put your head in your hands, shoulders shaking. soobin quietly asks if you're alright before you bolt out of the room.

it's an end of the year house party thrown by soobin's new friend and former project partner, yeonjun. you truly, honest to god, do not want to go, but sumin really wants you to and you feel guilty because you're unsure when you'll see her again after graduation.

you sit almost catatonically as she does your hair and makeup, dressing you as if you're some kind of doll. when she's finished playing dress-up, you have to give credit where it's due. you look like a new person, but you can still feel the rotten old you underneath the shiny veneer, and it doesn't feel very good at all.

you're sitting in a circle, passing a blunt around when someone mentions him. it's innocuous enough, but you still flinch when you hear it. they joke about how he's probably upstairs getting his dick wet with some exchange student who's only here for a semester. you don't think that's true, if only because you can feel the pull and it feels so fucking lonely and isolated there can't possibly be anyone else around him, but it still hurts to hear all the same.

sumin gets blackout drunk fairly quickly, which is nothing new. what is new, however, is how you match her shot for shot and chug for chug. you know in your head that you should stop, but your heart keeps telling you to drown it, drown it, drown it until you can't feel the pull anymore. so you do.

"my god, you're drunk!" yeonjun exclaims when you're literally about to fall over and bust your head open.

"i'm not drunk, you're drunk!" you hiccup. he almost laughs before he sees you grip your stomach and gag. he thinks it's the alcohol, but in reality, you feel the loneliness beomgyu felt dissipating and you can only imagine what he's doing to cope. fuck, you didn't want to feel this.

"c'mon, girl. don't throw up here. let's go to the bathroom." he leads you up the stairs into some shitty bathroom that doesn't even have toilet paper. you kneel in front of the toilet and let yourself go, tears marring your carefully crafted makeup.

yeonjun gently grabs your loose hair and twists it into a makeshift ponytail. when he sweeps the last few strands from behind your ears, he sees it. all pretty and pink, ornate but unassuming. the seal you share with beomgyu.

"oh fuck," he says simply. you're drunk, too drunk, but even you know what he means.

"don't... don't look at it," you hiccup as a fresh wave of tears stream down your cheeks. "i want it gone," you whine, futilely scraping at it with your fingernails. in your head, you know it won't do anything. seals are permanent and even a tattoo couldn't cover it — it'd just resurface. in your aching heart, though, the thought of having beomgyu's matching seal makes you sick and you're willing to do almost anything to get it off of you.

"what the fuck is going on here?" a voice you'd recognize from anywhere emerges from the bathroom doorway. soobin. "what happened to you?!"

he's kneeling down to your level and wiping the mascara from under your eyes. yeonjun is still holding your hair back, so it's only a matter of time before the seal catches soobin's eye. it takes him a second to place where exactly he's seen it before, but once he does he murmurs a simple "oh shit."

you'd laugh at the similar reactions from the two boys if you felt anything other than misery at the moment. soobin grabs a rag from god knows where and wets it to tenderly brush around your lips. yeonjun tactfully lets go of your hair and escapes from the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. you sit in silence.

"you know, this is a really bad time," he begins awkwardly, "but i want to remind you that the seal stuff doesn't matter to me. i know it matters to you right now, and that's okay, but it doesn't have to be that way forever." it takes you a minute to really process what he's saying and understand the implication behind his words. once you finally do, you're shocked to say the very least.

"do you still like me when i'm like this?" you say, mouth agape, tongue still heavy from the vomit.

"i do," he replies simply.

"really?"

"really, really."

beomgyu knew you felt his pain as soon as you said it, but he didn't know to what extent until he hears you sobbing in the bathroom. the walls are paper thin and you're not exactly quiet, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't straining his ears to ensure he's catching every word. and catch every word he does — even the ones you exchange with soobin — the ones that pierce his heart, and yours, apparently, because you wail when you feel it.

being with soobin is simultaneously the hardest and the easiest thing you've ever done. he starts off slowly, as if he's afraid to break you even more than you're already broken. he's patient with you even when you're sad about a certain somebody, and never makes you feel guilty for it.

when you're bawling your eyes out one night and cancel your plans with him, you're surprised to hear a knock on your apartment door, anyway. you look through the peephole and see a familiar figure with a smile on his face. you hurriedly wipe the mascara from under your eyes and pull your hood up to cover your fucked up hair.

"what are you doing here?" you ask once you open the door.

"i was just in the neighborhood and thought you might want some ice cream," he says simply.

you snort. the "neighborhood" in question is a good 20 minutes from his apartment, but you don't ask any questions for fear that he might actually leave.

and so you sit on the living room floor with a movie playing in the background as white noise. you forgo the formalities and both of you are digging into a, frankly, alarmingly large tub of ice cream with nothing but two spoons. he pokes your reddened nose when you eventually start to drift off into space and remember your soulmate doesn't want you. he doesn't ask any questions, either. just boops your nose and you're back to reality and giggling at his childishness.

being with soobin is so easy, so comforting, that when he eventually asks you to be his girlfriend, you say yes.

on graduation day, beomgyu feels an excitement he sincerely did not anticipate. sure, he was happy to graduate, but he had no idea he'd be fucking elated. he has no clue why he's so ridiculously excited when he's honestly not even sure what he'll do after college, but when your name is called to collect your diploma and his heart is racing so fast he feels like it might explode, beomgyu comes to a damning realization: it's not his happiness he's feeling... it's yours.

the revelation is fully enforced when he sees you leaving the stage and hugging soobin. he feels your heart skipping a beat when he watches your fingers lacing with the other man's. he can't quite understand it, but the contentment you feel juxtaposes the sadness brewing inside of him. the sense that something is missing feels more palpable than ever. you walk off with soobin, swinging your interlocked hands while he gently brushes his thumb against your fingers. you don't look beomgyu's way even once, and his eyes start to burn when he realizes that image will forever be seared into his head. he has nobody to blame but himself.

beomgyu can feel your joy now and it makes him sick. he feels the butterflies in your stomach as you slow dance with soobin. feels your first kiss and the thrums of electricity permeating from your lips to your toes. he even feels your excitement before soobin makes love to you for the first time and the pure bliss that comes after. he feels it all and it's enough to make his stomach churn. he wonders if you can still feel his pain, and on some level, he hopes you do. maybe he's selfish, but it would serve as another reminder that he's bound to you and you to him. it doesn't feel like you can, though. how could you be so happy if you felt even a fraction of the weight on his chest? he's drowning every day and you're out playing first comes love then comes marriage with soobin. he's currently looking at your instagram from a burner account (you blocked him on his main) and he's trying to keep his pain tucked carefully behind his ribs, where his heart is, but it's constantly threatening to overcome him. you look different — not bad — just different. you're glowing now, it seems, and your hair is always down. he has a guess as to why that might be, and it pains him to think about it. this must be the yearning everyone, including you, had felt. he supposes he should be happy that you're happy, but he's never claimed to be a good person, and the sight of a picture of you planting a kiss on soobin's cheek is enough to twist the knife in his chest.

notes pt. 2: hi :,) i hope you all liked this one. if not, i'm sorry :,) my pacing is sooo bad but i'm working on it i swear ( ཀ͝ ∧ ཀ͝ ) feedback is always appreciated!! and yes, there will be a part 2.

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2knightt · 2 years ago

Note

dallas but with a sweetheart soc! gf. i feel like he’d be the sort of person to be like “i’m never gonna go for a soc especially a nice one” only to be completely smitten with one the minute he meets her 😭😭😭

Dallas Winston x sweetheart!soc!reader

!warnings!

1.fem!reader

2.swearing, minor mentions of violence and blood.

honest to god, he didn’t believe you existed.

people would talk about this nice soc who’s ‘real nice to us grease.’

all dallas did when he heard this was kiss his teeth and shake his head.

“yeah right, when’s the last time you ever met a nice soc? never, cause they don’t exist. get your head outta the clouds you idiot.”

UNTILL he actually just so happened to run into you!

you were walking, alone. stupid—you already knew that.

you just wanted to walk around tusla in peace!

then dallas winston came and ruined it.

“woah. what’s a pretty girl like you doin ‘round these parts?”

dallas said from behind you, trying to lean into your view as you kept walking.

“huh? ‘these parts?’”

“yeah, little miss. these parts. where the hoods stay. you don’t look like no grease, anyhow.”

that’s when you finally understood what he meant.

you’re a soc that’s walking around the east side!

“oh! i’m sorry, should i-uh, walk back?”

dallas didn’t know what you meant—sorry? walk back?

“why’d you go and go that?”

“well—you clearly don’t want me here and i don’t wanna make you upset! im sorry if i did, i ain’t mean it!”

ohh…you’re that sweetheart soc everyone was talking about.

dally’s demeanour immediately changed. it went from sweet to nonchalant, cool, tuff guy.

“yeah, it’s best you go. might get hurt or something..”

so with that, you nodded your head and walked in the opposite direction.

while you were fleeing the scene, dallas couldn’t stop thinking about you.

he thought about how cute your hair was, how pretty you looked under the moonlight, how—wait. what is he saying?!

you’re a soc! he’d rather die than go after a soc!

he just grumbled to himself, cursing himself out.

the days following, every time a person mentioned you at all, he’d try to switch the conversation.

“that nice soc came ‘round recently. she-“

“uh-anyways, buck’s having a part tonight.”

dally didn’t go around saying he didn’t believe you were real or that he hated you anymore. instead he just went around looking for you!

and one fateful day, he ran into you again!

“hey, i remember you! i didn’t catch your name!”

“dallas winston. what’s your name, pretty?”

“y/n l/n. oh—and thank you!”

since then, you and dallas would talk more and more. even hanging out on some occasions!

you just thought it was all because he was a really nice friend, which made you sad because you liked dallas winston a lot!

maybe a little too much…you found yourself purposely going onto greaser territory just to see him.

and it’s not like he didn’t like you too! he totally did, and you could tell!

dallas ain’t very good at hiding his blush.

but he was in complete denial. he refuses to accept that he likes another girl after syliva, let alone the someone apart of the group of people he hates the most.

one lovely and wonderful day you and dally went on a drive! …in your car, obviously.

dallas had pulled into an empty parking lot and turned to face you.

“why are we here, dal? you oka-“

“i like you.”

“…what?”

dallas sighs and thoughts start running through his head about how he knew he shouldn’t have told you, how he knew it was stupid, how all soc’s are the same.

a soc girl dating a hood like him was unheard of, so he thought if you rejected him he’d get over you.

well, that’s what he thought before it actually came. he was embarrassed—he wanted to just run out, he should it’d save him the trouble—

when suddenly his worries were cut off by your angelic giggle.

“i like you too, dallas.”

then without thinking, the two of you lean over the centre console and have your very first kiss as a couple <3

you best believe he’s bragging about you to everyone and anyone.

“yeah but i don’t see you dating a soc, let alone y/n, steve. up your fucking game.”

“I’M GOING TO BODYSLAM YOU DALLAS.”

he steals stuff for you but REFUSES to tell you he stole them. he thinks you’ll have a heart attack if he does.

when he sees a cute shirt you’d like? snatched. your favourite snack? already in his jacket. a cute necklace with his initial? NOT SAFE! HE ALREADY TOOK IT!

he’s so whipped for you oh my LORD.

dallas is pushing other girls away that WILLINGLY flirted with him.

“yeah, huh uh. that’s nice ‘n all but, i got a girlfriend.”

he will walk into soc territory for you. he can and he will.

he doesn’t care who tries to jump him, he has pretty flowers to give you at your doorstep!

cuddling?? cuddling.

while at the drive-in you guys are definitely that one cute couple that everyone looks at when they walk by.

dallas’s arm around your shoulders as he brings you closer to him with your head resting on his shoulder.

looking up at him as he looks down at you and flashes his famous smile<3

i can see it now!

still can’t believe how nice you are sometimes??

like he just doesn’t get why you’re apologizing to a door??

“oh! i’m so sorry.”

“that’s a door, doll.”

PATCHING HIM UP AFTER FIGHTS??? OH MY GOD???

him sitting on your kitchen counter with bruises and cuts all over his body as you scramble to find any sort of bandages.

“oh dall, look at you!”

“i’ll be fine, love.”

“BUT I WON’T BE!! YOU’RE BLEEDING SO MUCH!!”

not gonna lie, when dallas told the gang he was dating you they thought he was lying.

“yeah right.”

“mhm, and i’m sober right now. ya know, since we’re lying.”

“dallas, stop lying to us.”

“guys what the fuck???”

dallas waited awhile before you met the gang. even though he trusted you fully, you were still a soc.

and you know how greasers and socs are together, right?

but when you do meet them?? they are HOLLERING.

“HOLY SHIT IT WAS TRUE!”

“STEVE HOLD ME I NEVER THOUGHT THIS WOULD HAPPEN!”

“AND SHE’S ACTUALLY PRETTY??”

dallas felt a little offended at the last part.

your friends didn’t like that you were hanging around the toughest greaser in tusla, and they let you know that.

“i still can’t believe you gave that hood a chance, y/n.”

“me neither, you doin’ charity work now?”

“c’mon guys! he’s real sweet when he’s with me, you just don’t know the dallas i know!”

but overtime, they had no choice but to accept it.

they just couldn’t believe that an angel like you would go after the devil himself!

your friends knew that you were whipped for dallas n they couldn’t do anything about it.

you two were head over heels for each other.

tulsa’s it couple, as some would say!

author notes ;

1.SORRY FOR THE DELAY FOR THIS OMFG.

2.im legit inlove with this idea?? your mind?? holy shit???

3.I HOPE U LIKE THIS LMFAO

may 17th, 2023. 5:29PM

#2knightt #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #dallas x reader #dallas winston x reader #sweetheart!reader

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youwouldneverbreakthechain · 2 years ago

Text

I don't like the Found Family trope.

There, did I get your attention? It's true, but the question is, why is Guardians of the Galaxy still one of my favorite stories in any medium ever?

Something really clicked for me with the ending of Vol. 3 (spoilers ahead, natch). The team broke up and that kind of development is usually heartbreaking, because we love the team, they love each other, now that they've found each other why should they ever part ways?

The answer is that they're a family, and that's what families do. Growing up means leaving the parents who raised you and finding a path of your own, maybe to someday continue the cycle with kids of your own, but never losing what you got from your first family. Those people, who you can't choose, will always be a part of you.

Each of the Guardians, aside from Drax, had their childhoods interrupted by traumatic events. They didn't get to finish growing up naturally, and that loss hounded them all their lives. When they found each other they began to heal, but here's what I didn't realize until the end of the trilogy: the family that they found with each other wasn't the kind that you make when you grow up. It's the kind that you grow out of.

From the beginning, Peter has shown signs of "Peter Pan Syndrome," acting like a little boy even though he's highly skilled, courageous, and compassionate. His maturity gradually began to show through, but one quirk that kept coming up was his refusal to return to Earth. No good reason for it except that he couldn't bear the reminder of his mother and he was ashamed to face his grandfather. He can handle it now because his life with the Guardians gave him the stability he needed to become a true adult.

Gamora's new incarnation doesn't need the Guardians because she found the Ravagers instead. We don't know much about them but I expect that what they did for Yondu, they'll do for her too. In the meantime, Nebula's had a few good years of being loved and now she can follow the footsteps of the Gamora who was lost, aside from falling for Peter, because that's unlikely to ever work again.

Groot's been the most fortunate, not having his youth cut short or taking any serious trauma since he sprouted. Eventually he may want to strike out on his own, but until then it's good that he can stick with Rocket.

Mantis seemed more aware than anyone of their internal struggles, including her own. Which is appropriate, her being an empath and all. She really made the boldest possible move, going it alone, and I'm proud of her. Hoping she'll make an appearance in The Marvels or something else before reuniting with Peter and/or the Guardians.

Drax is a special case and the one who I thought was most likely to die, since it seemed like his arc was all wrapped up: he had his childhood before we met him and it was his adulthood that was ripped away from him. Revenge was his entire deal and Ronan and Thanos are dead now, so what's left for Drax? Well, it turns out revenge doesn't have to be his entire deal and now I'm embarrassed I ever thought otherwise.

Rocket...oh, Rocket. We always knew that he was something other than what nature had intended, and that was on top of the nonstop physical and emotional abuse, but now it turns out he already lost the only three people who put anything good into his sad little life. Since there was nothing to salvage from his upbringing, he was the one who needed the Guardians the most, so he's the only founding member to stay. But no mistake, it matters that he's staying as the leader. He's not alone, but he's not under anyone's control, either. He knows who is now and he knows his worth.

The "don't call me a raccoon" running joke always bothered me a little but I never dreamed it would have a payoff like it did in Vol. 3. Rocket claiming his full name is much more than a nod to his comic origins. It's his understanding of where he began and the injustice that was done to him, his acceptance that he wasn't at fault for the deaths of his first companions and that he does deserve to be loved by the Guardians.

That's the foundation that lets everyone part ways without having to ask each other if this means their relationships are over. As far as I've seen, no other found family in fiction has reached this point - the team is generally the endgame, and if someone leaves, things will never be the same again.

In a real family, a good one, when someone leaves we celebrate. Congratulations on your first apartment. Good luck at college. Blessings on your union. Just remember, you can always come home again. Our arms are open for you.

#guardians of the galaxy vol. 3 #gotg vol. 3 #gotg vol 3 spoilers #peter quill #gamora #drax the destroyer #nebula #mantis #groot #rocket raccoon #found family trope #guardians of the galaxy

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vioartemis · 2 years ago

Text

I’ll die with you

(Tara Carpenter x fem! reader)

Summary: Months after the 2022 massacre, you reunite with someone dear to you. But the happiness in only temporary; a new killer is targeting you. Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 a/n: This will probably be a multi chapters story with very irregular posting :)) Warnings: blood, injuries, Ghostface stuff, angst (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

"Hey, I'm not going to disappear okay?"

You laughed as your girlfriend pouted when you pushed her away gently. You were lying on her bed, her on top of you kissing you desperately as if you were about to vanish.

"It's just two days Tara, maybe less knowing her"

"Well that's still too long! Who's going to cuddle with me if you're not here? And my morning kiss?"

"I'll make up this, I promise" you kiss her "After this weekend"

She groaned slightly, disappointed. But she knew it was important for you.

"Can we stop talking now? I want to enjoy our last moment together..."

"Don't be dramatic, it's not our last moment together. When you say it like that it looks like we will never see each other again..."

She didn't answer and kissed you again, desperately.

You hadn't been separated in a while since the... incident. You were so used to be on each other all day it was hard being without her for too long.

Her lips were soon on your neck, placing hot, wet kisses here, sucking dark purple marks there, hands everywhere on you. You let out a sight, fingers tangled in her hair.

"Tara..."

She hummed against your skin, hands sliding under your shirt. You felt her smile on your shoulder when she felt you shivering under her cold fingers.

You arrived late at the train station, hair still a little messy. You rolled down your window and looked around for the person you were waiting. She wasn't difficult to spot with her blue suit.

You texted her you were there. She looked up, and starting walking toward you, a smile replacing her previous frown.

"Where did you get that car? Are you even allowed to drive it?" she asked as she took place next to you

"I stole it"

She gave you a "are you serious" look. You rolled your eyes, smiling.

"I'm kidding, I bought it. And yes, I have a licence"

You started to drive home calmly.

"How was New York?" you asked

"Oh you know, with work I don't really have time to visit"

"You know that's not what I meant"

"I know"

"... It's going to get better right...? Does it ever go away...?"

"Not completely, never. It's normal to feel that way. You cared about him, we both did. Time will ease the pain, but he will still be in our hearts. Forever"

She had never been good at reassuring anyone, but this time she found the right words.

Months after, your dad's death still hurt. It was normal, you knew it. You wanted to get over it, like everyone told you, but there was always that part of yourself that still believed he would come home.

"I'm back" he would say with a smile "Sorry I made you wait, the delivery guy forgot the sauce, again"

But that never happened. It never would.

With your mom out of town, you didn't think too much about him. Or at least that's what you said not to worry Tara. Now that she was back, even if it was only a weekend, the good old days came back, flashing before your eyes.

You parked in front of the house, tears in your eyes.

"How can you not cry...?" you asked with a nervous laugh, trying to light up the mood

"I'm Gale Weathers, I don't cry. Not in public"

"Of course, why did I even asked?"

You both smiled a little, getting out of the car and inside the house.

You started making diner, telling her some things you learnt while she was gone, trying to give her ideas for a new novel.

"Why don't you tell me about your life? It would make an interesting book. A spicy one for sure"

So she saw the hickeys.

"Mom!"

You blushed hard, embarrassed.

"No you're right, writing about people only attracts psychos. I wouldn't want your girlfriend or you getting hurt"

"Thank you?"

You both laughed and had a good time watching your favorite series while eating, until her phone rung.

"What does he wants? I told him I was off this weekend" she mumbled

"Pick up"

"What?"

"Maybe it's important"

She looked at you for a second, before getting up and taking the call. When she came back, you already knew what she was going to say.

"They learnt I was back here and now they want me to-"

"I know. It's fine, we had a good time, you can go"

"I'm sorry Y/n..."

She hugged you tight.

"You're Gale Weathers, the best reporter. No wonder everyone wants you"

She smiled a little, relieved you weren't mad, and was quick to go.

It always ended up that way with her. But it wasn't her fault. You knew she ment it when she said she was sorry.

You sighed and called your girlfriend.

"Guess who has to work even on her days off?" you said when she picked up

"She's gone already?"

"Yep. That was quicker than I thought... want to come over to keep me company?"

"Is that even a question? I'm on my way, wait for me baby"

You smiled at her words.

"Don't hang up, I want to talk to you on your way here"

"Oh yeah? What are you gonna tell me? Tease me?"

"Maybe..." you said innocently

The landline suddenly started ringing, making you jump.

"Shit"

"What's going on?"

"Landline. Who still uses this?" you mumbled

You walked to the phone and picked up, putting Tara on speaker so you could still hear her.

"Hello?"

"Is this uh... Y/n Riley?"

"Depends. What do you want?"

"You ordered something on our website, it should be there"

"Why do you call me for that?"

"Well... I think we send you the wrong package..."

"Y/n what's going on? Who is it?"

You texted your girlfriend about the situation while talking with the guy.

"I suppose you want me to check?"

"Yep"

"And uh... what did I ordered again? I don't remember"

"I think it was... a painful death."

You hang up immediately and let go of the phone. A voice changer. He was using a fucking voice changer.

"Baby! Is everything okay?"

"Yeah... just a stupid guy using a voice changer for a stupid prank..."

"Are you sure of that?"

The voice came from behind you. You turned around so quickly your neck hurt.

You felt your heart drop in your chest when you saw a tall, dark silhouette looking at you through a Ghostface mask.

"Hello, Y/n"

You were frozen in place, incapable of moving. The Ghostface took a step closer to you, tilting his head slightly, knife in hand.

That's when your legs came back. You ran as quickly as you could, trying to tell Tara on the phone.

"Tara it's Ghostface! Fuck I-"

You couldn't finish your sentence. He grabbed you violently by the waist, making you let go of your phone. It slid on the floor.

He stabbed your abdomen, a hand over your mouth. You let out a muffled scream, and tried to escape his strong grip.

You managed to bit his hand, hard. He kicked you forward, swearing under his breath.

You barely had time to grab a lamp nearby and turn around that he was already on you again, fingers wrapping around your neck, choking you.

You dropped the lamp as he lifted you up before pressing your back against the chimney. Breathing was becoming difficult. To make things better, he sank his blade into you again, twisting it painfully this time. Blood splattered on the floor.

You struggled against him, trying to get his hand off of your neck. But he was stronger than you, you couldn't do anything.

You reached behind you, desperate, when your hands found what you thought was a vase. With all the strength you still had, you slammed it on his head.

His stumbled backward, holding his head, letting you fall to the ground. You gasped for air but didn't waste more time and staggered up.

You tried to reach your phone on the way to the door, but you were pushed to the ground. You started crawling, tears flooding down your cheeks.

"Tara help!" you yelled, voice broken

Ghostface grabbed your hair and tugged your head backward harshly, one of his knees on your back to keep you on the floor.

"No one can save you. You will die alone, just like your father."

He slammed your head against the floor. You let out a cry which only grew bigger when he stabbed you on your side. He did it again. And again. And again. You were coughing blood at this point.

You didn't want to die. You couldn't die. You were screaming for help, crying and bleeding on the floor, Ghostface on top of you. You could still hear Tara's voice on the phone, a few meters away.

He pulled on your hair again, slamming your head on the floor once more. You started to feel dizzy. Everything was blurred around you, your ears were ringing.

So that's the end... you thought as he pulled your head back up.

"Tara..." you let out in a breath

He slammed your head back down again, harder than before.

I love you, was what you wanted to say. But everything turned black before you could open your mouth again.

When she arrived at your house, heart beating faster than ever, hands shaking, she saw him. Tall. Black costume. Bloody knife. He was running away.

Then her eyes fell on your body, lying in a pool of blood in your living room.

"Y/n!"

She ran to you, turning you around so you were on your back. Your face was covered in blood, fresh tears on your cheeks. She looked at you in horror. Her worst nightmare just became real.

Your necklace with her initial, stained with your blood, was hanging lazily around your neck, red from earlier.

Tears were rolling down her cheeks when she tried to take your pulse. She gasped when she felt it. She held your head with one hand, the other taking one of your own.

"Baby please stay with me... I called an ambulance it will be here any minute now..."

She had almost lost her voice from screaming when you were being attacked. Hearing you cry for help and not being able to to anything had killed her.

When the ambulance arrived, you were still unconscious in her arms. They forced her to back up while they were taking care of you. She didn't want to. She needed to be close to you. But they didn't let her.

From where she was, she could hear their conversation. It only made her heart ache.

"We're losing her! Get ready to shock her! 1, 2, 3, go!"

"She's losing too much blood!"

After what felt like an eternity, they put you on a stretcher into an ambulance. Tara made her way to you but was stopped quickly.

"You can't go further miss."

"Is she alive?" she asked, panicked

"She was clinically dead for 3 minutes. But we brought her back. Now if you want her to live have to take her to the hospital. And no, you can't come with us, we need to be by her side. You will see her at the hospital"

They left her here, crying on the sidewalk in front of your house. After a minute, she headed to the hospital, walking as fast as her legs allowed.

Once she was there, she was told she couldn't see you yet. She tried to argue, but that was useless. She "would only have to wait a little" as the lady said.

She took the opportunity to call your mother, your friends, and her sister to tell them everything.

The first to arrive was your mom, as expected. She seemed devastated. She got mad when she learnt she couldn't see you right now and started yelling at the lady before Tara dragged her away.

They had to wait half an hour before someone told them they could see you. You were still asleep, but your life wasn't in danger anymore.

Tara sat next to you and took your hand, stroking it gently, while Gale sat on the other side, watching you with tears in her eyes.

"... Can you watch her for a minute...? I have to tell Sidney..." she asked your girlfriend

"I'll call you if she wakes up"

She thanked her and got out of the room, taking her phone with shaking hands.

You would soon wake up, not believing you were still alive, and burst into tears in your girlfriend's arms only able to think about one thing; you had a killer on the hunt again.

[Next part]

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x fem reader #scream #scream 5

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thatanimewriter · 7 months ago

Text

IMMOVABLE OBJECT MEETS UNSTOPPABLE FORCE.

➳ request: Big ask. Weiss, Blake, & Yang (separately) with a quiet reader S/O either taking a hit for them (potentially dying) or reader being saved by them (or vice versa)? Either one of the two, or maybe both if you're up for it. Thank you.

➳ character/s: weiss schnee, blake belladonna, yang xiao long

➳ warnings: blood, death, injuries, canon typical violence

➳ notes: i have an unhealthy addiction to angst, this is great >:)) i'm so sorry for the wait bestie, i promise i'm getting through requests-

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 / 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 / 𝐰𝐢𝐩 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

── 𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐄𝐄.

she's probably a little bit mad, but also proud and a little jittery in more than one way

like, how nice that even though she's had a privileged life for so long that someone like you would take a hit for her

but also you took a hit for her and now you're injured >:((

thank you so much, she's very flattered and will pamper you until you get better but don't ever do that ever again

she'll cry (as if she isn't already after the adrenaline is gone) and it's embarrassing for her

she doesn't wanna be mean, but she probably never thought you'd do something like that for her

you're so quiet and reserved, maybe you'd stick to your own safety

she was wrong and she didn't wanna be proven wrong in this way

if you die though-

she will NEVER forgive herself and she will train like nothing else to be better so this doesn't happen to anyone else

has something of yours on her at all times and is super reluctant to date anyone again

if she wants motivation to keep going during a battle, it's you she thinks of

── 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀.

angry girlie because she can handle herself and she already feels like a bit of a burden as it is

will eventually be grateful for the save but it's gonna be a little while before she comes around

you should've just kept to yourself, she can handle being hurt, but she doesn't like it when you are

especially because of her (it's not really, but that's how she interprets it)

she'll read to you if you're uncomfortable trying to go to bed without aggravating injuries

will let you pat her ears if it makes you happy, but don't think this is a regular occurrence, she just enjoys the quiet time with you

will hold this against you for a little while, but won't be mean about it

just reminders that you should like, not do that again because remember when you were bedridden for weeks-

if you died after saving her, it's like battle of beacon pt. 2 bro

she runs away and disappears and probably is not found for a longgg time

visits your grave (if you have one) every day and tells you all her regrets and what she wanted to do with you before you died

doesn't take on another lover after you die, it feels disrespectful to her and she feels like she should owe you something in return

── 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆.

less mad than anxious about your sacrifice

goes absolutely crazy (super saiyan mode) to end the fight asap so she can check on you and make sure you're as good as possible

honestly, the whole thing is kind of a blur after you took the hit for her

pure blind anxiety and a lil bit of rage to just get you both out of there

yells at you a bit cause she's so scared for your life rn, don't do this to her on a regular basis

knows you're not the most outgoing though so she's willing to sacrifice some of her social time to help you recuperate

will play some games with you if you want cause you can't do a whole lot

definitely more willing to take a day in with you after this cause TIME IS OF THE ESSENCE, she gotta spend time with you

if you died to the hit, she will probably let herself get beat up a lil more than usual

just for one huge blow to throw back at them for literally killing her partner

worse nightmares than adam tbh, she is haunted by you and she can't even blame you for this one

will eventually return to the dating scene but won't ever forget you and tries not to find a replica of you

#rwby #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #rwby x reader #weiss schnee x reader #blake belladonna x reader #yang xiao long x reader #rwby imagines #weiss schnee imagines #blake belladonna imagines #yang xiao long imagines

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asiandra-dash · 8 months ago

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Hi i saw u wanna rewrite akikasa hcs PLEASE WRITE ME SOME I BEG /nf /lh

HJKJSKDKHS AKIKASA anyways I was referring to a short story I wrote a while ago but THIS!!! IS (I think) MY FIRST AKIKASA RELATED ASK!!!! I MUST WRITE!!!!!! All I have to do is figure out which thoughts are based on canon and which ones are AUs-

I took 18 days to finally post this because I kept getting ideas and had to force myself to stop because this is way too long 888 words man this ain't fanfiction also if this is illegible I'm sorry none of my headcanon posts will ever be organized no beta or read more we die like my grades after my orchestra field trip

Starting with basic shit Akito is SO so in denial about his feelings and when he's finally fed up with it he chucks it down to infatuation (It is not)

And Tsukasa is an oblivious idiot to everything even though he has a stupid crush on this ginger he just refuses to say anything because he still thinks Akito despises his guts

My guy every little bit of physical contact you make with carrot head makes him look like color hex #ff0000 RGB 255, 0, 0 how do you not notice this

Tsukasa fell first, and they both fell harder >:)

You know Tsukasa'a 1* card where Akito saved the poor man from a spider or something that's when it happened Tsukasa didn't know at first cause like haha who the hell falls in love with someone over something so small I barely even know the guy

If Akito confessed first, after a long moment of awkward silence and Akito wishing the floor would eat him alive, Tsukasa is suddenly hugging him and crying (That's a yes btw)

If Tsukasa confessed first, it would take a bit (probably a few days or weeks) but eventually Akito with the support of everyone finally accepts his feelings for Tsukasa (He didn't tell anyone about the confession btw it was probably Akiyama or one of Tsukasa's friends that told everyone also the threat of Rui was probably another reason he couldn't deny lmao)

Every date, and I mean EVERY SINGLE DATE, Tsukasa will always bring or buy some cheesecakes or pancakes for Akito

And if he doesn't the next time he brings lunch for Akito he'll bring him more cheesecake than he usually does to make up for it

When Tsukasa found out Akito's favorite flowers were sunflowers, he sometimes brings one for him too :D

Tsukasa probably got a pair of sunflower clip-on earrings too (Or whatever they're called)

Tsukasa loves to tackle hug Akito and it never fails to make the ginger laugh <3

Tsukasa borrows Akito's jackets a lot (At least twice a week).

Akito complains about it but let's be honest he loves it when he gets it back and all he smells on it is Tsukasa's scent

Tsukasa loves giving gifts to Akito even if there's no special occasion, usually some type of jewelry like earrings and the next day Akito's most likely wearing it

Obviously, they invite each other to their shows, and sometimes their other bandmates too

During WxS shows Akito's supportive and is internally loud but during VBS concerts Tsukasa is HOLLERING Akito's name and singing along if he knows the lyrics it's embarrassing but if you look closely enough you can tell it hypes up Akito a little more and he tries even harder (An has taken note of this and teases him nonstop about it)

Neither of them are a huge fan of PDA but if you stare long enough you'll probably miss a sneaky little kiss when you blink

That or if Tsukasa's in a really good mood he'll practically cling to Akito (Which is like 50% of the time tbh)

That one post I made on my side blog is real and so is the first tag

Yes Ena and Saki are supportive but holy shit Akito wants to fucking strangle Ena whenever she brings it up (This applies to An too)

Tsukasa helps Akito be more open with his feelings and Akito helps Tsukasa deal with negativity better

Around people, Akito still treats Tsukasa how he would (if Tsukasa isn't being clingy) but once they're alone Akito acts like he's touch starved and refuses to leave Tsukasa alone

Akito sometimes helps Tsukasa with practicing for his shows. He's obviously not as good but he's trying and Tsukasa appreciates his efforts

Tell Akito to say wonderhoy and he'll look at you like you're fucking insane but have Tsukasa tell him and he'll say it as unenthusiastically as he can manage

And then Tsukasa will look at him all :((( and Akito does it with more energy and "jesus fucking christ the things I do to make Tsukasa happy" (It's just a wonderhoy idk why you're so pissed /hj)

I do not understand Japanese and I am not caught up on that one event story with furry Akito so correct me if I'm wrong (about the italicized part) but before Akito gets over his fear of dogs Tsukasa always made sure they would steer clear of them and if one suddenly appeared this blond pink theatre kid is going to protect his pathetic fucking boyfriend with his life

Rui: Is that a hickey? | Tsukasa: No! It’s just a mosquito bite. | Akito, walking into the room: Hey, guys. | Rui: Hi, mosquito.

Whenever one of them stays up really late when staying over. the other tries to convince them to go to bed and cuddle/snuggle with them and it works.

Tsukasa practically begs meanwhile, if possible, Akito hugs Tsukasa from behind and basically just collapses onto him half asleep mumbling into his ear (Can you tell I'm tired it's 1 AM and I got 3 hours of sleep yesterday I'm running off of a power nap rn)

Obviously, Tsukasa can't do anything with Akito like that so he basically carries Akito to the room of whoever they're staying at

Akikasa supremacy WHO'S WITH ME AKIKASA!!!!!!! (I'm dying on a hill please)

Divider / Reply Icon made by me! ( 1 | 2 )

#the brainrot is strong #it is real #(ﾐ ᵕ ﻌ ᵕ ﾐ)┆Wanderer Writes #project sekai #pjsk #prsk #prosekai #pjsekai #project sekai colorful stage #hatsune miku project sekai #hatsune miku colorful stage #akikasa #shinonome akito #akito shinonome #tenma tsukasa #tsukasa tenma #headcanons #pjsk headcanons #I'm gonna die doing as much homework as I can now I haven't been here mentally for the last three weeks I am so far behind

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dsireland86 · 2 months ago

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OMG Yes please make the All Too Well fic! And yeah it is crazy that we thought about him with the same song

I was originally going to use the original version of this song, but after listening to Taylor's version again, it hit differently. This story was a little difficult to write because I really didn't want to make Nick the bad guy. But, at some point in our lives, we all make that one mistake we regret for the rest of our lives, right? In my universe, this was Nicholas's.

All Too Well

Tags: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @fadingintothegrey @an0mallly @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers

My sister's house in upstate New York that Autumn was so cold; colder than Virginia. The moment we walked through the door together, she smiled so big, squeezing my arm and saying how it felt like home. My sister loved her instantly.

She wore a red scarf around her neck that she said kept the cold out and her body heat in. I didn't believe her. It was so thin and small. There was no way. But it smelled like her, and her scent always made me weak.

I was five years older than her, but nobody could ever tell. People would say my sweet disposition and her wide-eyed gaze that was always focused on me made us look so compatible together that age was never something anyone ever questioned about us.

The whole ten days we were in New York together, singing in the car, almost running countless red lights because I couldn’t stop looking over at her and how beautiful she was with the wind in her hair, getting lost on some crazy back roads with autumn leaves falling down like rain all around us, was the best ten days of my life. It was nothing but the purest magic ever to be found in life. Even after it was long over, I could still picture all too well; her smile, her eyes, her laughter, all of it. It was love. I was in love with her, and I knew she was in love with me.

My mom came to visit my sister. Knowing y/n and I were there, she brought my childhood photo album and embarrassed the hell out of me. My cheeks never turned as red as they did when she saw me sitting in my old red car twin size bed in just my underwear and glasses; god, those horrible thick, black rimmed glasses.

Then came the t-ball stories that made my mother proud to tell, but made me cringe. But y/n hung on every word my mom said as she learned more about my past and, for the first time, I knew she was my future despite what was waiting for me back in Virginia. I didn't want that anymore. I was over it. I wanted what I had right then; at least I tried convincing myself I did.

As we drove through those back roads, I was aching to say, "I love you," but for some reason, I was too scared to call it what it was, until it was too late. Until it was already dead, gone, and buried beneath the hate and bitterness of her heart, and I didn't blame her one bit for the way she felt. I deserved it.

That same night, I stole her innocence, promising her that she was the only one I'd ever want and that what we had was real, because in the heat of the moment, I really meant it. But in the end, I knew it was a lie from the very beginning. I stole her magic and treated it and her innocence as if they were some ordinary, mundane things when they weren't.

After three months of silence, the moment she found out the truth, the painful look of shame that graced her beautiful face was too much for my heart to handle. I wanted to die, to run away from her and never see her again. There was nothing else for either one of us left to do except hope that she would forget me long enough to forget why she ever felt like she needed me in the first place.

The very last time we were happy was right after we came back from New York, and she stayed over at my place. It was the middle of the night, and I awoke to her not beside me, so I got up and went searching for her only to find her in the kitchen listening to "You Belong To Me" by Jo Stafford; our song. I sat on the stairs for a moment, watching her dance in the glow of the refrigerator light as she looked for something to eat or drink, knowing in the morning all of this was going to end.

I cried, hating myself to the point that I rushed back upstairs and threw up in the toilet. I had kept her a dark, dirty little secret when she only kept me like an oath swearing over and over her loyalty to me. It was all a masterpiece until I tore it all apart. For what? I don't even know anymore.

A month after that night, I called her up to tell her I was moving to my sister's. She answered the phone, sounding so hopeful and optimistic, but when I told her that I was leaving, y/n asked if I was going alone. I didn't want to be honest, but I had lied to her long enough, so I was. I told her the truth (or at least what I had convinced myself to be the truth) about her and I and that what we had was never going to work because of the age difference. I was casually cruel, crumbling her heart up like a piece of paper and throwing it to the floor. I knew she wanted to die because I had felt that kind of pain before, too.

She asked me why I was doing this to her on the eve of her twenty-first birthday and I cringed, completely forgetting the date. She screamed at me, saying it was supposed to be fun turning twenty-one, but now she was nothing but paralyzed by pain and regret. I promised her it would get easier and she disagreed, saying time doesn't fly when you're bleeding like a soldier on the battlefield. Then she asked the crucial question, the one I was hoping she never would; "Did the love affair between us maim you like it maimed me?"

I felt cold, numb from all the pain. I didn't answer her, just told her goodbye then hung up the phone. I went for a walk, plagued by memories of the past in the city's barren cold as the first fall of snow glistened as it fell. I remember it all too well.

I'm boxing up all her things she left behind. Her red plaid shirt, her hairbrush that still holds strands of loose hair, a pair of panties I remember pulling off of her the very last night I made her my own, and her old scarf; the red one she wore to my sister’s that day in New York. I bring it to my nose and breath in deeply, soaking in the remaining scent of her it holds. It reminds me of innocence and the way things used to be. I can't get rid of it. So, I open my dresser drawer and gently lay it in there, touching it one last time before closing it. I remember her wearing it all too well and I never want to forget it either. She loved me so, back before I lost the one real thing I'd ever known. What we had was rare and I know I’ll never have it again.

I say her name every once in a while, like a sacred prayer to remind myself of the one and only good thing in my life that I lost. And the memories of her come rushing back every time, reminding me of her love, all too well.

#nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nick ruffilo #nick ruffilo fanfiction #bad omens cult #bad omens #bad omens fan fiction

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p0orbaby · 2 years ago

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Hey! Can you maybe do one like pet two of Wanda finding out that reader talks to the babies when Wanda is asleep where reader does it in front of Wanda with her awake hahaha and maybe like reader being affectionate with the bump in public for the first time? Please?

Affection

a/n: Wanda needs all the love

warnings: pregnancy, insecurity, think that’s it?

word count: 1k

“You don’t have to be embarrassed you know”

“I'm not”

Wanda didn’t have to be a genius to know you were lying. You could barely meet her gaze and when she held out a hand to comfort you, you practically recoiled. Like her hand was reminiscent of a red hot poker.

“Y/N, don’t be like that. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable”

“You didn’t”

“Look see, I can go back to sleep and act like I didn’t notice anything!” She laid back down theatrically. Hair splaying over the pillows and arms placed purposefully at her sides trying to emulate how she slept.

You looked over at the bedside clock and found it was almost time to get up anyway. To go back to sleep now was futile. So you scurried off to the en-suite flushed with awkwardness and discomfort and turned the shower on in hopes of regaining some composure.

Fortunately or unfortunately, you didn’t really enjoy the idea of slamming a door in your pregnant wife’s face as she appeared next to you. Having peeled herself from the sheets strangely fast for someone as pregnant and she was. You narrowed your eyes at her sudden burst of morning energy.

“What did you say Dr Michaels said you needed to work on?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you deadpanned as you stripped. Warm cloth crumpling in a pile on the floor. The wash basket forgotten as you let yourself be engulfed by beautifully hot water.

“Don’t be obtuse,” Wanda shouted over the water. “Repeat what you told me the other week”

You must’ve said something, because there was a low hum that had your body vibrating. But it failed to reach Wanda’s ears through the dense fog being created by the heat.

“You’re going to have to speak up baby”

“Wounds can only heal if you let them open up. Failure is not a mistake, only failing to fix them is” you said louder this time, resting your head against the tiled wall to hide your face.

“And what does that mean?”

“Not running off. Talking. Being open”

Over the sound of the water you didn’t hear the rustling of clothes being removed. Only aware that movement had happened when you felt a swollen stomach to your back and soft hands wrap around your middle.

“Want to talk about earlier?”

You turned in your wife’s arms. The height difference between you never failed to make your heart swell. Your hard demeanor always dissolving when those big green eyes looked up at you with affection and care.

“Just bonding time, you know?”

“And the part about doing it when I’m asleep?”

“I don’t know” you responded nonchalantly with a shrug. Glad the water was hot enough it gave you a flush before this interrogation.

“Y/N”

“What?”

“Open wounds remember”

If you were having this conversation with anyone else you’d roll your eyes and deflect. But if you wanted this to work, which you did because you loved your wife and would die before you lost her trust again, you’d have to talk.

“If I say something and you hear it, if anyone hears it, it becomes real. Like, if I promise to take them out on bike rides and never do it, when they're old enough I mean, then I’ll be a disappointment. If you don’t know what I've said, you can’t judge me for forgetting”

There were never many moments where Wanda was rendered speechless. Yet at this moment, she couldn’t really find any words worthy of a response. And in all honesty she didn’t even know what she was feeling. Sad, happy, grateful you’d told her something that was obviously difficult for you?

“Oh baby. I won’t judge you for things like that, ever”

“But you might. I can’t fail anyone else”

“Does this have anything to do with you not touching my stomach in public too?”

You tried to pull away, but her grip around your waist tightened, keeping you flush against her. So you just gave in. Nodding your answer silently. Like a child too ashamed to admit fault.

The two of you were in line at the bakery. This morning's conversation all but resolved and the air around you now not thick with tension. And to top off a task completed, freshly baked cookies and chocolate croissants would serve as a reward.

Your palm was placed firmly on the small of your wife’s back. Pushing at her aching spine as she stood longer than you would’ve liked waiting for your turn to order. You’d insisted she take a seat whilst you waited alone, but alas, she got her way and a back rub in the process.

“They’re really giving me the run around today”

“Hmm?” You asked distractingly, looking around other customers' bodies at what was left behind the glass displaying the sweet treats.

“The boys, kicking my ribs and doing somersaults. Do you think it’s possible they know sugar is on the way? Getting excited and flailing about in there?”

There was a brief moment when her words blended into the beeps and hisses around you. Other people's chatter wrapping around her question. A statement that you would normally respond to by pressing your lips to her hairline and spout encouraging words only loud enough for her to hear.

But it’s never too late for change.

You ignored the woman behind the counter ushering you forward to order. You ignored the groans and complaints you heard from the rest of the line behind you. All comments in the wind as you knelt down, in-line with Wanda’s stomach, and splayed your palms over the wool guarding her from the morning chill.

“Will you two stop making your mama uncomfortable, hm? She’s keeping you nice and warm, fed and making you strong, and that’s how you repay her? Menaces already, the pair of you”

It was probably a coincidence, but whatever movement you felt against your hands seemed to stop at your words. Perhaps it was the familiar sound of your voice. Or something else entirely. But either way, a step had been made today.

When you stood to your full height, you were surprised to see Wanda’s eyes brimming with tears. Not unusual in her hormonal pregnant state. Though this time you were certain you knew the reasoning behind her quivering chin and wet sniffles.

The kiss to her hairline now had a new meaning.

#one too many #wanda maximoff x reader #pregnant!wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fluff #fluff #wanda maximoff angst #angst #drabble

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sidekick-hero · 2 years ago

Text

hold me close (I’m shaking apart)

(steddie / explicit / part 1 / 6k / AO3 Link at the bottom)

Inspired by this amazing, mind-blowing piece of fanart by @dreaminginpencil (please give the artist and art some love)

Your perspective on a lot of things changes when you save the world and almost die in the process. Like how important high school hierarchies are, or what kind of people you want to spend your time with.

Eddie, for example, never thought he would be hanging out with the likes of Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, or even Robin Buckley, even though she was as much of a social misfit as he was. Not to mention the bunch of fifteen-year-olds, although, to be fair, he had hung out with some of them back in Hellfire. Not that there was anything wrong with those people, far from it. But without the Upside Down, he probably never would have known.

The whole experience taught him a lot, too. Mostly not to judge a book by its cover, a lesson Eddie thought he'd learned a long time ago. In fact, he had prided himself on applying it to his ways in high school, adopting little lost sheep who did not fit in with the crowd.

Apparently, he had been wrong.

Because he also ended up spending more and more time with the former King of Hawkins High himself and that was a book he would have wrinkled his nose at before but found himself addicted to now.

But Eddie was not the only one who had come back from his brush with another dimension, a hellish dimension, a changed man. No one goes through the things they’ve been through unscathed. Eddie was no expert in those matters, but he had the impression that more than anyone else, Steve was the one who had embraced the change that brought the most. It seemed to Eddie like Steve was almost thankful to have left the days of 'King Steve' behind. For one thing, the guy seemed more at ease, more relaxed, than Eddie had ever seen him at school. Steve had stopped holding himself so rigidly all the time, no longer coiled up like a snake ready to strike. Instead, he was goofing off with Dustin or bickering with Robin, acting like a total dork without regard to his reputation.

Eddie knew Steve still regretted a lot of the things he'd done, a truth spilled from Steve’s mouth in the hours between midnight and dawn, but Steve had begun to make peace with his past mistakes.

Leaving 'King Steve' behind also meant that Steve had stopped caring about high school etiquette and social ladders, just like Eddie had. Steve didn't seem to have any problems calling a band geek his platonic soul mate or hanging out with 15-year-olds on a regular basis.

Of all the unlikely friendships Eddie had formed during the literal apocalypse, the one with Steve felt the most unlikely. Hawkins High's freak and king. But those titles had stopped meaning anything, they were just names and had nothing to do with him or with Steve.

It all came down to one simple truth: Steve Harrington was not at all what Eddie expected him to be, and it was confusing him to no end.

Spending time with Steve made Eddie feel unsteady, something he wasn't used to.

Thing is, Eddie’s not blind. He knows what Steve looks like. Even back in high school there had been an awareness of Steve and the way he moved and talked and commanded a room just by walking into it. Eddie had been denying it, of course, willing to believe it was contempt, disdain he felt for the guy, and that was why his eyes would find Steve in any room, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Although at night, in his dreams, he knew the truth.

Back then it hadn't really been a problem. They existed in different social circles, Steve on top and Eddie on the bottom of the ladder. Steve probably hadn't even been aware of Eddie's existence, and that had been fine with him. It had made it easier to ignore the heat that pooled in his stomach when he had to watch Steve in his little gym shorts throwing balls into laundry baskets, or to forget the dreams he woke up from, all sticky and embarrassed.

Their newfound friendship makes dealing with his whatever better and worse. Better, because now that he got to know Steve, the real Steve and not the bastardized version he knew from high school, he realizes what a great guy he is. Steve’s funny without meaning to be, goofy in a way that's endearing and silly at the same time. He could be a bit of a bitch, but when it isn't meant to hurt, it is actually pretty funny to watch him being a petty mean girl.

Steve Harrington also has a depth to him that Eddie didn't expect at all. Isn't it enough that the guy is gorgeous and athletic and charming? No, he has to be sincere and caring as well. That's where things started to get worse for Eddie. Because lusting after Steve Harrington? Old news. Expected, really — how could Eddie be better than at least half the population of Hawkins his age?

It's the feelings underneath the lust that are dangerous, that could get him into trouble.

Steve doesn't help his situation at all, of course. Instead of being aloof and prickly or arrogant, he has to be sweet to Eddie. Seeks him out to ask his opinion on things, like he really cares what Eddie thinks. Asks him to spend time with him, to come over, to watch a movie or just go for a ride to get out of this shitshow of a town. Laughs at Eddie's jokes and listens to his stories, asking questions and looking at him with big, warm eyes.

When they're in the same room, Steve keeps moving closer and closer to him, invading his space as if trying to carve out his own little corner in it. He keeps touching Eddie, brushing against him, breathing against his skin when he leans over his shoulder or whispers in his ear, and Eddie knows it doesn't mean anything, feels bad about the way all these innocent touches make heat build in his stomach, how they make his balls draw tight and his skin feel too small for his body. He doesn't want to feel that way, wants to be normal for once, because Steve is his friend and it feels dirtybadwrong to look at him and think about all the things he wants to do to him.

Like when they celebrated Robin's birthday last month, and everyone had gathered at Steve's big empty house to party. There had been an assortment of drinks, more than a house full of 15-year-olds probably needed, because the only guests of (almost) legal drinking age were Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle, Steve and himself. Eddie had found himself standing in front of the various bottles, marveling at the sheer potential for alcohol poisoning, when Steve came up behind him and peered over his shoulder.

"Are you expecting a whole fraternity to show up or are you trying to get us all pissed?"

Steve was humming behind him, so close that Eddie could have sworn he could feel the vibration through his back. Eddie was acutely aware of the heat Steve was giving off, goosebumps breaking out all over his body as the electricity of Steve's closeness continued to crackle under his skin. He wasn't sure how he'd managed to stay upright at that point, how he hadn't let out the whimper rising in his throat.

So of course Steve went ahead and made it worse.

He took another step forward and pressed his front fully against Eddie's back, trapping Eddie between the counter and his solid body. He inhaled sharply as he felt the heat through his thin shirt and was hit with Steve's intoxicating scent; musky from the sweat glistening on his flushed skin, mixed with the expensive cologne Steve always wore and the beer he had earlier. Underneath it all was something pure Steve. Eddie's head was spinning from the way Steve was overwhelming his senses.

And then Steve put his mouth right next to Eddie's ear and whispered, "Maybe I just want you to loosen up a little. You seem super tense, dude." Steve's hot breath had hit the sensitive skin of his ear and Eddie couldn't help the shiver that ran through him nor the strangled sound escaping his mouth. He shuffled forward to press himself up against the counter to hide the growing evidence of what Steve was doing to him, and poured himself a drink.

Fuck that shit, he needed it.

A few days later, Steve, Robin and Eddie had gotten together after Robin and Steve's shifts at the Family Video Store to go to the local diner for fries and milkshakes, as they often did. Nothing fancy, just friends hanging out.

Everything had started out pretty normal too, relaxed and easy, joking around, Robin and Steve bickering like an old married couple and Eddie adding fuel to all their playful arguments. They all shared a huge order of fries, but each ordered their own milkshake. Robin chose strawberry, Eddie chose chocolate, and Steve chose vanilla. This, of course, made Eddie grin mischievously at Steve.

"I'm trying so hard not to make a joke right now, Harrington. I hope you appreciate the effort."

All Eddie got for his trouble was a puzzled blink from Steve's hazel eyes. For someone with Steve's reputation, he was surprisingly bad at picking up on innuendo. Eddie was embarrassed at how damn endearing he found it.

Just as Eddie decided it was a lost cause, Steve suddenly leaned forward from where he was sitting across from Eddie, right into his space. Eddie wanted to back away, but was glued to the spot by the intense look in Steve's eyes as his hand came up and moved toward Eddie's face in what seemed like slow motion. Eddie marveled at how big it looked, as if it could easily cradle his entire face in its palm. Of course it didn't. Cradle it, that was. It did, however, touch his face, soft as a butterfly's wing.

Eddie had to squint to see what it was doing so close to his face, but it was gone in an instant, leaving Eddie wondering if he was dreaming the sensation of warm, dry skin touching his cheek just below his left eye.

When he looked back up, Steve was holding up his index finger to him, still leaning in close and looking straight into his eyes with a smile that crinkled their corners. "Make a wish."

There were so many things Eddie could have wished for. A new amp for his sweetheart, a raise at his job at the music store, hell, even world peace. But Eddie is a weak, weak man. And so he wished for something he could never have and felt bad at the sight of Steve's devastating smile as he blew away the eyelash.

It was killing Eddie, and Steve just kept doing shit like that. The more Eddie tried to stay away, to put space between them to protect his fragile heart, the more Steve seemed to seek him out. It was the sweetest kind of torture Eddie had ever felt, and he was sure he was going to lose his fucking mind over it, and soon.

It was not enough to keep him away for good, though.

Like just a few days ago when they had all been over to use Steve's pool and the promise of a nice dip was too much for Eddie to resist. Or so he kept telling himself.

The hot mid-summer sun was beating down on him as he found himself face to face with a group of roughhousing teenagers in the pool. Eddie had no desire to join them while they were still acting like the half-wild gremlins they really were, so he decided to stay by the side of the pool, sprawled out on a towel as small drops of water kept hitting his heated skin and a light breeze caressed him.

He still had his jeans on, but his upper body was bare. It was not easy for him to show off his scarred body like that, he was still self-conscious about the damage he had suffered from being almost torn to shreds by the Demobats, but these were his friends and if he was ever going to reclaim his own body and feel comfortable in his own skin, he had to start somewhere.

However, it was not part of his plan to let anyone touch his body just yet. Even Eddie could hardly bring himself to do it most days, too weirded out by the numbness of some of his scars, too afraid of the pain of touching others. So when Steve approached him with a bottle of sunscreen, he sat up abruptly and tried to get away as quickly as possible without drawing too much attention to himself.

Steve was having none of it.

"Don’t even think about it, Eddie, you look like a lobster. You need to put on some sunscreen before you blister, man."

Fucker was fast, too because before Eddie could even think about reaching for his shirt, muttering about putting it back on, maybe going inside, Steve slid in behind him, his legs bracketing Eddie's and his front to Eddie's back.

So Eddie found himself once again trapped by the most beautiful Venus flytrap and there was no escaping its sweet but deadly embrace.

"Let me give you a hand."

There was nothing he could do, nothing he could say with all the words stuck in his throat, so Eddie just... took it. Just let Steve do whatever the hell he wanted to him. The only thing Eddie did was pray to the heavens to send him the strength he needed to not crumble under Steve's capable hands as they began to spread the cool lotion over the too-hot skin of his back. He shivered at the difference in temperature, his back arching under Steve's hands as he couldn't decide if he wanted them closer or if he wanted to get away from them, unable to stop a small, embarrassing sound from escaping his lips. It was too much.

It wasn’t enough.

Steve's hands worked methodically, in broad strokes that once again reminded Eddie how big Steve's hands were, spanning his entire shoulder blade, the thumbs digging in here in there in an almost massage. Steve kept his touch gentle but sure. He didn't linger, exactly, but he wasn't in a hurry either, taking his took his time, making sure to touch every bit of exposed skin he could reach. Eddie could swear Steve's fingerprints were burned into his skin like a brand and he was glad Steve couldn't see his face, couldn't see the way he kept biting his lips to stifle the moans that clawed their way up his throat, or the way his eyes were pressed together so tightly he could see stars. It felt like Steve’s touch lasted forever, time a useless construct that bent to Steve's will like everything else.

It was over much too quickly.

Eddie mourned the loss of those hands on his skin the moment they were gone as Steve pulled them away, wiping his hands on the towel and standing up, handing Eddie the bottle of sunscreen. "For your front. Let me know if you need me, 'kay?" And then he had the audacity to wink at Eddie.

Eddie looked up at him, blinded by the way the sun lit Steve from behind, hitting his mousy brown hair at an angle that made it look like golden whiskey, his skin sun-kissed and freckled. All those moles splattered all over his body in stark contrast to the caramel color of his skin, inviting Eddie to put his mouth all over them, to worship each and every one of them until he could identify them by the feel against his lips and tongue.

Steve had smiled down at him, happy and carefree, and Eddie thought he'd let himself be torn apart by bats any day if it meant being worthy of a look like that.

What he’s trying to say with all of this: He’s so fucked.

But it's fine. Eddie's fine. He really is.

It's fine that his mind keeps losing track of things when he's around Steve, that he keeps spacing out while staring at his lips or the moles on his neck or those goddamn paws Steve calls hands. It's fine that his dreams lately all seem to involve sweeping brown hair and hazel eyes, and that he wakes up from most of them horny and desperately rutting in his mattress. He's a healthy 21-year-old whose only company lately has been his right hand. A stiff breeze could set him off.

He blames that for giving in so easily.

It's early August, and the heat has grown oppressive, stifling. It's unbearable outside, and even in Steve's room, with all the shades drawn and the air conditioning on, it's barely tolerable. But the trailer is so much worse, so Eddie spends most of his days at Steve's.

Which is fine. He's fine.

He's fine when Steve takes off his jeans after a lot of complaining about them sticking to his thighs, and just wears his boxers and one of those stupid polo shirts he's so fond of, showing off his strong, hairy thighs.

Being fine gets harder (pun intended, Eddie thinks) when Steve doesn't sit back down at the foot of the bed, where he had started before his impromptu striptease, but right next to Eddie, his back to the headboard.

They're sitting close together, shoulder to shoulder, thighs almost touching and Eddie can feel the heat of Steve's leg even through his jeans. It makes very aware of his own layers; a long-sleeved Hellfire shirt and ripped jeans. After the sunscreen incident (as he calls it in his head) he couldn't stand the thought of his bare skin anywhere near Steve.

Steve does not seem to have any such reservations. As he settles more comfortably on the bed, his bare forearm presses against Eddie's clothed one, just a thoughtless, careless touch, but Eddie's heart stutters at the contact, missing several beats. It tries to make up for it with rapid thundering. This awareness of Steve has been growing steadily, building and building, for weeks and Eddie feels it's about to reach its crescendo. The air around them seems to crackle with energy, causing the leg resting next to Steve's to bounce.

The heavy weight of Steve's hand as it comes to rest on his thigh to stop his restless movement almost makes him jump, his muscles tense from the effort to hold still when all he wants to do is vibrate right out of his skin. The heat of Steve's palm sears his skin even through the layer of clothing between them and Eddie feels as if it will forever be marked by Steve Harrington. Thinks he wouldn't mind wearing some visible proof of it, something that said 'Property of Steve', like wearing his letterman jacket or his class ring. Eddie thought he left those silly dreams behind a long time ago, but teenage dreams die harder than you think.

"Hey, man, are you okay?" Steve asks with a hint of worry in his voice, his eyes serious as they look at Eddie, as if he's trying to say You can tell me and I want to make it better. But Eddie can't and Steve won't.

But it's fine, he can be fine.

"Nah, all good. Sorry. The heat's getting to me, making me a little crazy, I guess."

"Might be you’re wearing so many fucking layers, dude.” He says it teasingly, tongue-in-cheek and Eddie forces a chuckle, hopes Steve will drop it if he makes a joke out of it.

He must not be very convincing because Steve just keeps looking at him and Eddie can hardly stand it, this all-consuming focus on him. Not because it's too much, but because now that he has it, he knows he'll crave it even more. He already wants Steve's eyes on him all the time, wants to be the center of Steve's attention as much as Steve is his; the axis around which his days revolve.

Eddie has always been greedy.

"You ever fooled around with another guy?"

Steve's words are like a bucket of cold water poured over his head, like the needle jumping on the record and making that scratchy sound. Has he ever…What the fuck, Harrington?

Eddie’s frozen in shock, breath caught and heart no longer beating, suspended in the air and afraid of the drop. Finds himself at a loss for words, something that doesn't happen very often in his life, thinks that he must be dreaming, one of those dreams where he's going to have to change his sheets again.

"Have I ever - " He swallows, but it goes down the wrong pipe and he coughs instead, has to lean forward with his fist to his mouth, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. Steve tries to help and puts a hand on his back, rubbing it in soothing circles as if he hadn't just dropped a fucking bomb in Eddie's lap. You ever fooled around with another guy?

When the coughing subsides, he takes a shuddering breath, hoping Steve will drop the subject, move on as if Eddie won't lie awake tonight repeating those words over and over again in his head.

He should have known better by now — Steve Harrington isn't one to let things go.

"So have you? You can tell me, I won't tell anyone, promise."

Jesus Christ.

"Can't say I have, Stevie.” Eddie tells him the truth, but keeps to himself how much he wishes he had. “What about you? Those communal showers after basketball practice ever get," he pauses for effect, "steamy?"

There's a fine dusting of red on Steve's cheeks and his eyes have gotten bigger, glassy. He bites his lip, and Eddie's eyes immediately fall to them, mouth watering as he thinks about replacing Steve’s teeth with his own.

"No, we— I didn't— But." Another pause, another bite, as Steve's eyes drop to Eddie's mouth as well. Eddie licks over them compulsively and sees Steve's eyes follow the movement with eyes that are more black than hazel.

"But?" He almost whispers, too afraid to startle Steve and break whatever spell he's under.

"But I always wondered. How it would feel. If it's as good. Better." His breathing speeds up and Eddie matches it, feeling as if he's already been around the football field a few times.

That tension keeps on building, and Eddie has no idea what will happen when it reaches its breaking point.

If he even wants to find out.

If he can take any more.

If he'll survive whatever comes next.

But Eddie has already proven that his survival instincts are all fucked up, so instead of backing off, instead of ending the madness here once and for all, Eddie jumps right in.

"Why didn't you try it? Don't tell me King Steve couldn't have pulled a hot piece of ass if he wanted to."

He’s playing with fire, he knows that, but no one could have prepared him for the smoldering heat in Steve's eyes as he looks up at Eddie. "Maybe. If I'd asked, Tommy would have, I think. I didn't though." His hand reaches across their bodies and slides up Eddie's arm, settling on his shoulder as if it belonged there. "But I'm asking now."

Eddie's stomach clenches with how much he wants this, wants it so bad he can taste it on his tongue, his skin tingling at the mere thought of getting his hands on Steve's skin. But he has to be sure, he has to know. "What are you asking?”

"I'm asking if you want to experiment. See what it's like."

"You want to —" And here he thought Steve would want to — stupid. Eddie is so stupid.

"Experiment, man, it doesn't have to mean anything, right?"

Right. It doesn't have to mean anything. He can have the former King of Hawkins High in his bed, gets to have Steve in his bed, and it won't mean anything. Can't mean anything.

There’s never even been a question what Eddie’s answer would be.

It'll be fine. Eddie can be fine with this.

"Okay, man. Yeah. Whatever. We can, y'know, experiment. What do you want to do?"

A long breath leaves Steve in something close to a sigh, as if he had been nervous, holding his breath in anticipation of Eddie's reaction. As if Eddie's answer meant something to him. As if Eddie would ever be able to say anything to him but yes.

It's probably just horniness, Eddie thinks. He knows Steve hasn't had a date in months, hasn't slept with anyone since before the whole Vecna and Apocalypse thing happened. He knows this because Steve told him, unprompted, unwanted, but listening with bated breath. Eddie was a glutton for punishment because he never stopped Steve from talking about the girls he dated, the kisses and the sex he missed, but apparently not enough to go out and get it. He's probably just tired of his own right hand.

Steve leans forward, using the hand still on Eddie's thigh for leverage while the hand on Eddie’s shoulder pulls him in before it slides up to Eddie’s neck. His mouth is inches from Eddie's as he whispers, "Touch me, Eddie.” before pressing them against Eddie’s.

It's everything he's dreamed of, everything he's wanted since Steve Harrington stumbled into his life and turned it upside down. Well, more upside down. But it's also too much, overwhelming in its suddenness, so he finds himself frozen like a deer in the headlights, not even pressing back, just staring at the beautiful boy in front of him like he's having an out of body experience. This was not supposed to happen, not outside of his dreams.

Steve whines against his unresponsive lips and bites the plush shape of his lower lip. "Eddie, please. Touch me."

It’s the please, sounding almost broken as it falls out of Steve’s mough, that breaks the spell like some kind of counter-curse. Eddie lurches forward and catches Steve's lips in a clumsy kiss. It's not like he really knows what he's doing, because while he's never made out with another guy, he's never made out with a girl either. It's not exactly his first kiss, but close enough. It's certainly the first one that means something, the first one he cares about making good.

Steve doesn't seem to care, only pressing harder against Eddie, sliding his tongue across Eddie's lips and grinning at the startled gasp that falls from Eddie's mouth. Steve takes the opportunity to deepen their kiss and Eddie can't help but moan at the wet heat of Steve's tongue sliding past his parted lips and into his mouth. The sensation is foreign, but so damn good. His hand finds its way to the back of Steve's neck, sliding up his nape and grasping the fine hair there. Tugging on it purely on instinct, earning himself a broken whimper.

Touch me, Eddie.

Your wish is my command, Eddie thinks as his other hand pushes up Steve's shirt and finds the thick patch of chest hair that keeps taunting him from the neckline of Steve’s goddamn polo shirt. It's maddening to have it right in front of him every day and not be able to bury his face in it like he wants to. He still doesn't dare, but he lets his nails scratch at the skin underneath and his fingers play with the coarse hair as they begin to wander and explore Steve's chest.

It's hard to keep track of things when Steve keeps kissing him like he's trying to take Eddie apart with just his mouth. He's currently luring Eddie's tongue into his own mouth, sucking on it like he's starving and Eddie's tongue is the only thing that can save him. It's a fuckin' distraction, but it's also the best thing he’s ever felt, has him already so hard it hurts where his dick presses against the stiff material of his jeans.

He shouldn't have gone commando, but it's laundry day.

In school, he's always had trouble prioritizing things. Everything was equally important — band practice, Hellfire, and technically schoolwork. It's the same here. He wants to focus on kissing Steve silly, but he also really, really wants to find out how much skin he can get away with touching before Steve ends their little experiment.

It's the thought that this might be his only chance to find out how Steve feels under his hands that decides it. He slows his own kisses, letting Steve take over for now, while he continues to wander his fingers, letting them find Steve's nipple and give it an experimental stroke with his thumb. It pebbles underneath, a hard bundle of nerves begging to be played with.

His heavy lidded eyes lift to Steve's face to gauge his reaction, and finding Steve biting his lower lip, pupils dilated and eyelids at half-mast, Eddie takes that as a good sign.

So he does it again, harder. Hears Steve's breathing quicken, so he licks his thumb and adds some spit to make the glide easier. And that? That elicits a throaty moan from Steve, a sound he's never heard before, and it goes straight to his dick. If he's not careful, this will be over embarrassingly fast.

Eddie has always been a curious guy. He likes to just try shit out and see what happens. It's an approach that seems to extend to the bedroom because he has no idea what he's doing here, but that doesn't stop him — if anything, it makes him bolder, more daring. Hungrier.

He's fascinated by how sensitive Steve's nipples seem to be, how responsive Steve is to having them played with, so he pinches one of them between his thumb and forefinger next, and the result will be featured in so many wet dreams to come. Steve arches his back as if he's being electrocuted, choking out a broken moan so needy and raw that it makes Eddie squeeze his legs together in a desperate attempt to stave off his own orgasm.

"You're a wet dream, Harrington, moaning like a fucking whore for it. Anyone ever tell you that?" Eddie can't help but ask, his mouth running away from him as it tends to do. All that blood rushing south from his brain makes him stupid.

How did he ever get so lucky? If this is his reward for being willing to sacrifice himself to save the world, he feels like he's being royally rewarded. Another pun fully intended.

"Shut up, fuck, just shut up." Steve says, begs really, no heat behind his words. He almost sounds — desperately turned on by Eddie’s words. Huh. Eddie squirrels the thought away for later, when he can dissect it in peace while touching himself to the memory of Steve's sounds.

They both stop kissing, at least for now, so Eddie leans his forehead against Steve's and they both watch as Eddie's hand moves down, inch by agonizing inch, following the inviting trail of dark hair that runs from Steve's chest to where it disappears under the waistband of his boxers. As if a flimsy barrier of cotton could keep Eddie from where he so desperately wants to go.

Dipping his fingers under the material, he's delighted to find more coarse hair and the leaky head of Steve's cock, straining against its confines. The second his ring finger touches the hot flesh, it jerks and Eddie licks his lips in anticipation, transfixed by the sight through the almost see-through, soaked material covering the tip of Steve's dick.

The movement of Eddie's tongue seems to jolt Steve out of his own reverie, his eyes tearing away from Eddie's hand as he moves back in to capture Eddie's lips once more in a searing kiss, this one slower, deeper. Eddie would be lying if he said he has never thought about what King Steve is like in bed, what turns him on, what he likes to do to his partners. He doesn't know about King Steve, but this Steve? This Steve loves to kiss. It honestly surprises Eddie, in the best way possible.

Eddie's hand dips further, pushing away the offensive material and freeing Steve's cock. He wishes he could see it, see his hand grasp the shaft and slide along the silky smooth skin, but his current position doesn’t allow for it and he can’t bring himself to part with Steve’s lips, not even for this. Maybe it's better that he can't. It keeps him from overthinking it — this way it's almost like jerking off, only with a bigger dick, because goddamn, all those rumors about King Steve's royal rod? Absolutely true.

But he can't get a good rhythm. It's too dry, making the slide bumpy and uncomfortable. Steve seems to agree, because his hand leaves Eddie's neck to reach behind him, rummaging blindly through his bedside table drawer while still kissing Eddie, pulling him along with the magnetism of his eager mouth until he finds what he's looking for.

A bottle of lube.

Steve opens the cap with one hand while the other is still on Eddie's thigh, where it has moved higher, gently stroking along the inseam of his jeans. It has already wandered dangerously close to the hard outline of Eddie's dick, and Eddie knows that once it reaches its target, the game is over. Game, set and match.

That's why he moves to tuck Steve's boxers under his balls and reaches for some lube with his other hand. Eddie doesn't want to hurry, wants to draw this out as long as Steve will allow Eddie to touch him. But even more than that, he wants Steve to come first, to hide from Steve how hot and bothered Steve's own pleasure is making Eddie. He can't let Steve know how the breathy little moans and whimpers, the ragged breathing against his spit-slicked lips, are enough to drive Eddie crazy and make him come untouched any minute now.

Thank God they're on the same page here. Steve squirts some lube on Eddie's outstretched palm and he reaches for Steve's hard dick again, spreading the lube over it, enjoying the smooth glide, the wet squelching sounds as his hand picks up speed. They've stopped kissing to deal with the lube issue, but now that it's done, Steve finds his lips once more and they continue to lick into each other's mouths as Eddie strokes Steve in earnest. His mouth has begun to ache in the best way, as has his wrist.

He welcomes the pain as proof that this is really happening.

"Eddie." His name falls from Steve's lips in a tone that comes straight from Eddie's wettest dreams. Needy. Breathless. In awe of how Eddie makes him feel, and it goes to Eddie's head. Goes to his dick, too, makes his balls tighten. "Eddie, I'm close. I'm so close."

"It's okay, Steve, you can come. It's fine." It isn't. It will be over after that. The end of their experiment. But that's what they agreed to. It's Eddie's own goddamn fault if he's not fine.

"Nuh-uh." Steve starts to shake his head, and it spreads to the rest of his body, which starts to tremble with his efforts to hold himself back. He almost looks in pain and Eddie can’t have that, only ever wants Steve to feel good.

"What do you need, what is it, tell me. Let me give it to you." Too much, he thinks. You always give too much, Eddie.

But Steve had carried him out of hell, literally out of hell. He would give Steve everything. Everything, and it still wouldn't be enough.

"I need you to come too, Eddie. Come on. Want to feel it." And his treacherous hand finally reaches for Eddie's aching dick where it strains against his jeans to eagerly meet Steve's hand. "Please, Eddie. Together." Steve presses the heel of his hand against the hot flesh, rubbing up and down exactly twice before Eddie comes in his fucking pants like the virgin he is.

He whines deep in his throat, then grunts. The sound shouldn't be sexy, but it's what pushes Steve over the edge, spurts of cum landing on his belly and getting caught in his treasure trail. Good thing I pulled up his shirt, Eddie thinks to himself as he keeps pumping Steve's dick, milking the release from it, unable to stop touching Steve. Steve whines when it gets to be too much, nerve endings too sensitive for any kind of touch, so Eddie lets him go, even if he doesn’t want to.

Exhausted, Steve's head comes to rest in the crook of Eddie's neck as he tries to catch his breath. His breath tickles him and cools his overheated skin even more quickly.

Eddie has come all over his hands and, lacking anything to wipe them with, wipes them on Steve's sheets. It's a testament to how out of it Steve is that he doesn't even bitch at Eddie about it, just continues to huff against his skin.

Steve's ragged breathing slows after a minute or two, but his head stays where it is on Eddie's shoulder, Steve's nose pressed against the sweaty skin between Eddie's neck and collarbone. Eddie has never felt closer to another person in his entire life and it terrifies him.

"So. Are you satisfied with our experiment? Did you sate your curiosity?" Eddie is a masochist, it seems, presenting his stomach and inviting Steve to stick the blade where it hurts.

Steve sighs, contented.

"Yeah, man, that was good. Still a few questions though." His speech is slurred and Eddie suspects that Steve is one of those guys who is too out of it after an orgasm to do much else but sleep.

He's proven right when he feels Steve's body sagging against his and little snuffling sounds coming from Steve. He's fallen asleep, leaving Eddie to freak out in peace.

How considerate.

Also on AO3.

My undying thanks and love to my partners in crime, @yournowheregirl and @legitcookie for cheering me on and being the absolute joys that they are 💜

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #my writing #nsft #there are two more parts planned but this can stand alone just fine #thank you Jen and Alice for polishing those dicks with me lol #I don't even know how to write without you anymore #💜💜💜

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