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jolalibrary · 1 year ago

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viii. leave me on red

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter eight of i like the way you

best friend! friends with benefits! frankie morales summary: what starts off as an offhand remark, quickly becomes a regular, scheduled 'stress relief'. the only problem is, both of you are in denial that you feel anything outside of friendship for the other.

warnings: friends with benefits. fwb! rules. flirting. idiots who are so in love it’s stupid. feelings. smut - phone/text/video sex. angst. dont hate the jo.

word count: 3.6k

an: the hugest thanks to @thetriumphantpanda for not getting mad at me for doing this to them.

You decided it in the minutes after he left, you were going to tell him.

Back pressed to the door, head resting, eyes closed. Tears stinging in the edges, burning. Your breath all strained and difficult—that is, until it decided what it wished to be, anyway.

Then, it shifted, transformed. It morphing into a sob that rumbles and cracks, shaking its way through you until your knees plead to crumble to the floor.

Because you had wanted to chase after him. Even ring him. Beg him to come back.

It wasn’t until you climbed back into bed, letting the scent of him wash over you, did you commit to the idea.

That’s when you begin rehearsing it, letting it move from rolling around your skull to dripping from your tongue. You did so as you made food, as you did chores. Perfecting it, choosing words so cautiously and carefully, swapping them out, practising it until it becomes a thing typed into a piece of your soul.

I’m in love with you Frankie. I have been for a while.

You don’t expect it to rival the greatest poets, and won’t find a place amongst the greatest scripts to ever be. It won’t be a speech that’ll be copied and used in film. But it’ll matter.

It will be meaningful.

It’ll have weight and carry truth—and you suppose, when all is said and done—that’s what will matter. It’ll be out there, free, existing—swirling between the two of you instead of caged inside of your chest.

Once you’ve spoken it, it should calm the storm inside of you; should quiet the choppy waves that collide within you, each one attempting to do more than knock you off your feet, but grasp you by the ankles and drag you under.

Confessing it, should do a lot of things. But that doesn’t bring you any comfort right now. If anything, it makes you feel sick, feeling only thorny anguish which keeps you up at night.

Never before had you been thankful for booking vacation time.

A chance to be, to sit around your home and pretend you don’t want to find a way to get to him, tell him it all now, let it unspool, even with no hope of it being the same as it ever was.

Because you could lose him. Ruin it all. Taint the one thing you cherish above all else.

It’s why you turn it over. Letting it worm its way from a box of doubts to a fully-fledged car crash you replay over and over as you lay in bed, fingers twitching, chest tightening, jaw clenching.

It’s only on the third day since you had made the decision, that you decide to share your plan with another soul.

Doing so over the phone—only one name came to mind. As soon as she answered and you spilt, you were greeted with only a joyous tone, it all full of pride. Your friend who is all knowledgable and wise, being nothing short of a cheerleader. Saw it coming, she tells you, been waiting for you to wake up and smell the coffee. You bite your inner cheek, doing so until copper swirls around spit, because you’ve known too (something you want to tell her). You’d been carrying it around for longer than realisation had been bestowed on her.

It’s easier not to say it. Swallowing it, letting it die in a pit of stomach acid, where other things you never say go to erode.

“Any advice?” you’d asked.

“Just be honest.”

On day four, you had gnawed the skin from your lip. It's sore, practically pulsing. It has its own heartbeat from how raw it feels.

Your nerves beginning to get the better of you, swarming and piercing, pecking away at your earlier confidence—stinging it with doubts, ones which spread, all poisonous, swelling out until it’s all you can feel.

His texts help.

One day I’ll get you back up in a heli. Only if I can sit between your legs like last time. Can sit anywhere you want, baby.

You’re not sure how it’s possible that miles away he can make your day better and your pussy clench around nothing all at once. Your body missing him—just as much as your head, heart and soul. Thighs pressing together, all your earlier thoughts popping like bubbles as you read his words over, and over, and over. A whimper grows in the back of your throat, hammering on the back of your teeth to be released.

Flicking your eyes up, you catch your appearance in the mirror.

The way your skin is just lightly sheened with the droplets from your shower—having been in a rush to reply than dry yourself. So much so, the air tinged with the scent of your shampoo and body wash. It’s thick, and heavy, your skin warming under the effect of his words making it more prominent, evident.

Smirking, you slide your hand until it undoes the robe of your dressing gown—letting it gape, the cool air brushing over once warm skin, until it pebbles, the peaks of your nipples hardening as you take a breath, and snap. There, immortalised, you stand—positioning your phone, ensuring the camera cuts off your eyes, beginning at the base of your nose, capturing the white of your teeth against your bottom lip, the white robe hanging, parted, framing the bare skin under it.

And you don’t think, you just send.

No caption, no message.

Just the sound of the whoosh as your heart hammers, beats, and thumps in the milliseconds it takes before you see the speech bubble of his reply.

Fuck, baby. Wish you were here.

Bending down to kneeling, you shimmy the fabric from your shoulders—pooling it in the creases of your elbows. Positioning yourself so your hand can be seen perfectly between your thighs, keeping yourself hidden, just a fraction. You ensure your breasts are on show, arm shifting to push them closer together, before you smirk—no, you think. Shifting your expression to a smile, a little one, which grows bigger and larger just as you click the shoot button.

It begins, a slow-motion capture of your disrobe, of you seating yourself down on the floor in front of your mirror, taking instruction through his texts—positioning yourself like a doll. The last being on your rear, soles flat to your carpet, thighs spread, head back as your neck elongates.

You’ve never felt more beautiful, even exposed. Eyes don’t linger on the things you usually pick apart first thing in the morning, before you dress for another day, and they don’t linger on the parts you catch in the corner of your eyes before you shower. You just see radiance, shadow-kissed skin that is being bowed to through a screen.

Fuck you’re gorgeous. Can see how wet you are. You need me, baby? Always, Frankie.

Your finger sliding along your inner thigh, tips brushing over before parting your folds. It won’t be enough, he’s ruined you—made it impossible not to wish for him, crave those thick, long fingers that both keep things hovering in the air and you hovering over space, time and existence.

“Frankie,” you moan, to no one but you.

Curling, sinking deeper until—

Can I call you?

You don’t reply, you just call. The distinct sound of a request to video echoes around the room as you slow your ministrations, a low whimper escaping as he connects, as his face fills the screen that's cast to the side, his own view of your ceiling.

He says your name, quiet, more questioning. Your trembling hand moves, picking it up as the other remains buried deep inside you, lifting your phone, giving him a view, a taste, a sight.

“Tell me what to do,” you whine.

Watching him as he drinks as much of you in as he can, commits you to memory, skates his eyes over every pixel, not wanting to miss a single one, before he clears his throat, before he carries you in his phone to his bed.

Licking your lips, you release a breathy sigh—one that begins in the depths of your stomach, rising up and fluttering out. Almost carrying a moan as you find that spot inside of you, the one which makes you boneless, thighs threatening to tremble.

“You want me to keep my fingers—“

“Faster,” Frankie stammers, “Want you to move those perfect fingers a little faster for me. Think you can do that?”

Nodding, you roll your lips, heat washing out over you, gripping the phone tightly.

“Fuck, baby. Y’know how good you look right now?”

You heave out his name. It building, fanning out over nerves that tingle at the edges of you—making your fingers curl, heel of your palm catching the swollen bundle of nerves that makes the sound of what you’re doing that much louder, filthier, more obscene.

And you fucking love it.

Love all of this.

Love him—

“Wish I could bury my face between your legs—“

“—oh, shit—“

“—y’like the sound of that, querida?”

Your eyes flick to the screen, staring at him—a pang in your chest flooding outwards, it mixing with how much you wish he was here, desperate for it, half-wanting to beg him to get his ass over here and make a mess of you in front of your mirror.

“Touch yourself,” you say instead.

Swallowing back the rest, letting your head fall back, obscuring him from view as you slow your movements, teasing, edging yourself as your core twists, and electricity thunders in your veins.

“Want—fuck—wanna come with you.”

“Alright baby,” he says—as if it’s the most normal thing, as though anything the two of you are doing is normal. “Let’s do this together.”

You hope it’s not the only time he’ll say that to you.

Days drag when you clock watch. Hours take even longer.

It’s a thing you know, but you can’t help but do so all the same. Each time you check, you hope it’s closer to the time. The one marked in your calendar, the one which has been making you both nervous and elated all week.

It had only been when you stopped tidying, stopped moving things from one counter to the other, did you spot it—eyes land on it and never leave.

You're not even sure when he left it behind, but your eyes linger on the corduroy jacket near your door. It’s moss-green, hanging, growing in the corner of your eye and borrowing more of your attention than it should. You’re sure it grows vines, ones which tap on your shoulder when you’re able to forget it’s there, only to make you look over, and spot it all over again.

The worst thing about it, it looks like it's supposed to be there. As though the hook you had expertly hung, (correction: hammered a nail in and hoped for the best) was always meant to hang his things, be dedicated to it.

In truth, he acts like he’s supposed to be here.

Fitting, even if you’d never made a place for him outside of being his friend. Now, you see the outline of him, perfect cut out, a drawer which could host the bolts and bits from his pockets, the shelf which he could place his eccentric collection of DVDs from the sleepless nights during storms.

You suppose it’s why it continues to catch your eyes, your gaze lingering on it—knowing, without brushing your fingers against it or burying your nose into it, that it smells like it. That, in its own way, is spreading out that calming effect he has.

One you need now more than ever.

Hand wrapping around the handle of the knife, chopping, preparing. Eyes studying the recipe that is ingrained in you, one you could do with a timer and your eyes closed, but you need to stare at it, to read the handwritten notes and pretend for a second it’s not something you used to make for him all the time.

Before the rule, the one he made you agree to because you’d asked something from him.

Now, you just snort. Adding the ingredients to the pot, turning the heat down, as a soft simmer begins before you wipe your hands down on your towel. Because in time, you’d broken all of them, both for one another and for yourselves.

And that had to mean something. Had to be more than a coincidence or something that just was. It had to be underpinned by unsaid words and swirling emotions neither of you feel equipped to handle, yet feel more prominently than you know what to do with.

You make more of an effort in your clothes. Not for him, for you. A thrill sparks through you when you catch sight of yourself when you pass a mirror, catch yourself in the reflection of a window, your television. Because you look like someone who could confess your feelings, let your adoration be known. You feel like someone who will do it, can do it—a confidence which has been coming and going since you’d decided.

It’s only when you lay it all out (the glasses, the plates and the cutlery), does a stitch begin to appear in your carefully thought-out plan. One that digs, the needle-sharp, pointed, aiming to prick and make you bleed, smear across perfection and make it ruin. A thing you put off, able to argue with it, point out its stupidity.

Tonight could be the last time you see him.

Maybe, this thing the two of you had was all he had wanted—all he’d needed. Not an overbearing amount of emotions he can’t handle or begin to understand.

A thought you try to squash, shove down deep inside.

That is, until the bigger hand pushes the smaller one on, and it begins to create a hole inside your chest. It forming based on that earlier thought. That dread, that worry and concern which has been thickening in the back of your head for weeks now. Now, it's grown out of the walls you kept it behind. It widens with each passing minute until it’s close to an hour and it’s practically a sinkhole. It taking everything it can with it—happiness, courage, laughs and the smiles. Vanishing them, wiping them clean like they never existed, as every bit of wanted you had felt, was painfully plucked from you, tweezed until you were back to that horrid place you were before all of this began.

Except now, you felt too much. Unsure if you’re able to put a cork in it, trap it under just want him to be happy and content at being friends.

A sob escapes, just a little one.

But, it’s enough to widen the door. Allowing more of them to bubble up and appear, climbing forcibly up your chest as though they’ve been building a ladder and plotting their escape for the last few minutes.

Each rolling out, freeing, bursting into the air. Your body racked with them, trembling, shaking.

Your hand finds refuge on the counter, stabilising you, keeping you from falling into the hole of your own making. And your thumb brushes porcelain, the neatly displayed food you’d spent hours on, a declaration all on its own.

A—see, I broke the rules too, Morales—except, he hasn’t come. Hasn’t arrived.

Maybe he’d known. Maybe he’d decided that it was all too much, standing you up easier—you supposed it was much harder to face the person you’d been best friends with and break her heart to her face.

But, your Frankie would never do that. Except he isn’t yours, not really.

Even less so as time ticks far past running late into the zone of stood up.

And you feel dumb, stupid. A gnawing sensation growing in the place your love had once been, it twisting, tainting, painting everything it can in ruin and staining it in the disappointment you never thought he’d make you feel.

“Fuck,” you choke out, hand clasping your face.

Fresh tears, acidic and thick, hammer down onto your cheeks like a downpour. Layering on top of one another, blurring your vision, making your chest feel both heavier and lighter all at once.

Grabbing your phone, you don’t even think—unlocking it, finding the contact and clicking Message.

Are you free for a drink?

You should consider it, go to bed, wake up tomorrow and bury your feelings in something healthier like yoga or a walk—but you send it. Discarding your phone across the counter, it clattering, catching on the plate as you bury your face in your hands.

Tears, hot and thick—running down your wrists—not doing enough to numb you as you let them fall. Disbelief doubles as hope is swallowed whole, your throat filling with sobs you feel forced to let spill—etching their way into the silence, fracturing it, cracking what should be laughter, but is instead loneliness.

It’s why you’re thankful they reply with a yes, giving it no more thought as you blow out the candle in the centre of the table, ending the night before it even began.

Frankie wakes to darkness.

It’s a comfort, the way it blankets him, allows the little shadows to rest easy against the ceiling from his open curtains—it is all soothing, relaxing. It even almost allowed him to curl back into the comfort of his sofa. His blanket—the one you bought him—cast over the lower part of his legs.

Then he remembers.

Eyes widening, blinking furiously as he throws his legs from the sofa, hand grabbing—making all sorts of noise on his coffee table—until his phone screen illuminates and he sees the time.

Late it spells.

It all a blaze, just in the form of numbers.

Fucking late it bellows.

Disorientation wraps around him as he shoves himself up to stand, fingers tugging at his curls until he imagines they’re more frizz than defined. Not even thinking—just grabbing. Phone, keys. Shoes barely on his feet as he yanks open his own door.

Calling you.

It rings. And it rings. Each unanswered drone of it doing something to the fragility of his heart. Making it quake, crackle at the edges.

All week, he’d done nothing but think of you. Think of holding you, burying himself close against you, not even asking you to shed layers, but rather just lying with him. Take in the weight of you that he finds all but a comfort.

I love you, he had planned to whisper. Mark it against your neck, just under your ear. Write it against your lips if you let him. Burn it anywhere else until you’re nothing but tattooed in praise and adoration.

“Pick up, baby,” he mumbles.

Ringing you again in the car.

The drive over tense, silent—the occasional dial tone echoing around the bed of his truck. His knuckles whiten at each red light, shoulders practically under his ears when he pulls onto your street. Something knotting, all horrible, riddled with vines and sharpness that cut into him with each breath he takes.

He’s not sure if he should be worried or thankful your car is in the drive—because the house is plunged into darkness. His boots clatter against your wooden steps, hammering on the short porch as he cracks his knuckles against the door.

Its echo, comes back to him—able to travel around in the silence and come back with an answer.

You’re not here.

But he knocks again, and again. Tears prick at the corner of his eyes, something clenched around his stomach, tightening and tightening as your name falls, all pleading, an edge to it that he hadn’t known was possible. But then, he hadn’t known he could begin splitting down the middle, the seams coming undone, his own might and willing not able to keep him together as the realisation he’d fucked up the one good thing he had.

The one good thing he didn’t even really have, too cowardly to tell you—too fearful that you’d stare at him blankly and tell him you don’t feel the same.

Because he’s been drowning in it, in this, in you, for so long, he knows how to just about keep his head from going under. He had been sure he could do it for longer, could stem his feelings, push them down. Until, you slept against him, fitting perfectly.

Until he woke with his arm draped over your waist, your leg tangled in his, staring at him with wonder and awe as you traced your name on his back.

He should have told you then it was the best thing he’s ever woken up to. A sight he had only dreamt of, but never imagined could even be true.

Pushing your key into the door, he’s greeted by darkness. It hovering its hand to him, welcoming him, even if the cold chill of the place was more than unsettling. He wanders, feet almost dragging, half hoping to find you sat in the dark, because at least then he could begin to make it up to you.

You’re not.

Moving through to your kitchen, all set to pass through to your bedroom, when something makes his eyes pull to your table, and he sees it.

Eyes landing on the set-up, from the plates to the glasses, to the orange dish in the centre—and his heart drops to his feet. It landed with a squelch, a thud which vibrates through him to the tips of him.

You made him food.

You broke a rule. You broke the rule.

His eyes beginning to well up, stinging, until one falls.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

Letting his hand run down his face, staring at his favourite meal—unable to unsee how congealed it was, how long it’s been sat there, existing, waiting.

“Fuck.”

an: forgive me 😘

CHAPTER NINE ->

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales smut #Frankie morales x reader smut #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #jo: iltwy #triple frontier x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #frankie morales smut #triple frontier smut #frankie morales x f!reader smut #pedrostories

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la2yn0va · 2 months ago

Note

Yo! I send you luck in getting Feixiao, my guy! Can i request some Yandere Feixiao, Yukong, Jing Yuan, Luocha and Jingliu x Dilf! Widow! Male reader? In context the reader was a former cloud knight that as a child, lost his family because of the abundance. This cause the reader to hate the abundance soo much that he joined the could knights just to kill them all. The reader was one of the best in doing so, he was soo good that people called him "The bane of the abundance". He was respected and even feared, regardless he was an idol and a figure everybody knows about. However after years of combat, he fallen in love with someone to the point he had a kid with that woman. Thus in order for him to focuse on his family he retired leaving his hatred go. However after years later he lost his wife and child while he was out getting food for his family due to an attack by the abundance. This caused him to returned this time with a hatred greater than ever becaming even more ruthless and merciless (little side note: the reader has potential to became the emanator of the hunt. Also if you want the reader to have some relation ti the characters before his retirement is up to you)

Ight.

CW: Murder, Child Murder, Yandere Characters, Delusional and Obsessive Love, abuse, drug use, speaking ill of the dead, forced love… like FORCED forced love.

***

Yukong & Feixiao

(Putting them together because they’re similar)

She couldn’t help but feel disgusted with herself. She shouldn’t be feeling happy about this situation! Your wife and child had died and you came back to the military.

You were in pain, as you were when you first joined! But… she can’t help but feel euphoric!! That bitch who had dared steal YOU from HER was dead along with that child!!

All her own progress was wiped away!! Her murders gone unsolved or framed on the abominations of abundance, her meticulous words with you just thrown out the window! All cause of that BITCH!!

When the news first reached her of your family’s death, remorse wasn’t a feeling she got, but joy. A euphoric, sadistic joy at the news that your wife and child were gone.

Yes, a part of her was disgusted. But it was a spec compared to her obsession with you. She used her power to get close to you. Using her position to get you into situations where you’d be near or with her.

She’d also be shameless in her attempts to get closer with you. MUCH closer than she was when you were first in the military. Her pupil’s practically morphing into hearts at the sight of you.

She’d try to hold your hand to ‘comfort’ you or get you an accessory as a small sign of her love, but you’d also reject her advances.

It angered her, it ENRAGED her. The bitch is STILL fucking with HER! From the damn grave she’s STILL MANIPULATING YOU!! With every reject she grows more and more delusional.

It eventually reached a breaking point. She couldn’t allow you to stay disillusioned anymore! You don’t love that woman! YOU DONT!! That worthless waste of oxygen was manipulated you into THINKING YOU LOVED HER!!

She knows she can’t take you in a fight. No. Unfortunately, she has to weaken you in some way. So, she goes the the alchemy commission, putting in an anonymous request to a shady and criminal worker to make a specific type of drug.

The drug is complete, and she then has the person killed and dumped into the enemies territory. She smirks as she drugs you. Your food. And your drinks.

The drug weakens you physically, just enough for her to take you in a fight if you ever get rowdy. It also has a love potion effect, just to make sure you’ll love her.

Then, she takes you to the basement of her home. Keeping you there, slowly curing you of that woman’s manipulation and lies. Even using some forced acts. But it’s all worth it! The end justifies the means.

You don’t leave until she deems you cured. Even then, she makes you resign from the cloud knights to keep you safe, and quickly gets you to impregnate her just to keep you busy and solidify your position as her lover. FOR. EVER.

Luocha & Jing Yuan

(I think they’re pretty similar)

He felt remorse for you. The loss of a spouse and child is a pain he couldn’t imagine.

He lets you heal, allowing you to mourn in your own way while slowly creeping his way into your mind.

Jing yuan is always there when you go to massacre the abundance monsters, helping you with your murder spree.

Luocha is there to keep you alive and heal ANY injury you get, not matter its severity. Ain’t he just a sweetheart?

He would slowly test the waters, giving you small gifts and flirting with you. He’d see you being uninterested and believe he still needs to be patient.

But… you don’t change. You still look uninterested. You still look at him like a close and good friend. And it eats away at him.

The thought of you wanting to stay alone instead of getting into another relationship did NOT help. And it also shattered him when you confirmed his thoughts.

That, broke him. All his plans just thrown out the window, all his progress becoming meaningless!! And all his love.. his heart… Stomped on, spit on, ripped in half!

(They’d do the same thing feixiao & yukong did with the whole drug thing)

He’d keep you in his home/coffin. Making sure you don’t leave. He’d then begin to show you how he’d be a much better lover than that woman.

And eventually, when the drug’s love effects fully take over or you fall in love with him, he doesn’t allow you to fight. He can’t risk loosing you, he doesn’t even WANT you to fight.

No. Just stay with him, away from any battle. He’ll take care of that. You. And everything. He’ll take care of all and any dangers.

All he wants you to do is sit back, be safe, and love him.

Jingliu

She doesn’t feel remorse for the death of your family. Nor disgust for the joy she feels. This is prefect for her.

You’re coming back into her life, back into her arms, BACK TO HER. And she intends to keep it that way.

She encourages your hatred towards the abundance, she manipulates your mind into being distrustful of everyone else BUT her.

Jingliu and you would ritualistically go on multiple murder sprees against the abundance, torturing the abominations.

Despite not caring about the death of your family, she is careful with her actions when it comes to making you love her.

But, when she becomes Mara-struck. She goes off the deep end. Jingliu kidnaps you. Slicing open a large wound and sneaking in an icicle, freezing your muscles and blood, making you unable to move.

She takes you, and you two flee the xianzhou. Exploring the cosmos. Jingliu isn’t afraid to do whatever she wants with you.

She’s already unhealthily obsessed with you, but now she’s mara-struck. She couldn’t care about your opinion to your situation.

If you protest, she freezes your lips shut. If you try to escape, she makes your blood and muscles freeze just enough to slow you down for her to catch you AND beat her love into you.

She keeps you only centimeters away from her. Unless in the bathroom, you get no type of privacy.

-The End-

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justice-artblog · 3 months ago

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Wait shut up, late night thought (For the Saiki×Mob Crossover)

Just the thought that one of his friends makes it into seasoning City for a day or two, either passing through or temporarily visiting family.

And just the thought that Saiki is so devestated by what happened that he literally decides to hide rather than face what happened, rather than face the people he left behind.

And Mob has to awkwardly turn them away like *No, you didnt see any pink haired kids around here named Saiki, no siree!*

And manages to successfully ward off the friend. So he goes to Saiki's hiding place, and for the briefest moment sees the barest hint of devestation on Saiki's face. Morphed in grief before it smooths out.

Saiki wants to go, but Mob convinces him to just sit and wait it out.

And wait they do.

Either that, or.

Or.

They visit at Reigen's workplace. Cause they hear he's the greatest Psychic in the 21st century.

So surely this man can find their best friend, right?

And it's like 4 of them, And Reigen fully expects Saiki to give him sass when the teen makes note of people entering the building.

He does NOT expect Saiki to dive behind his desk and hunker down.

Amd 4 of his friends walk on, sit down, have tea and finally go onto their spiel.

"We know you do exorcisms but-"

"Well, we were wondering if you could locate someone? Cause you're a Psychic and all."

"I'm sorry?" Reigen blinks, plassing down his teacup as the teens shuffle nervously, the purple haired kid with glasses giving him a painfully peircing stare.

"Our friend." The teen explains, and slides across a picture of a very familiar teen. "Kusuo Saiki, he just up and disappeared one day."

Dont tell them Anything, Saiki's voice filters in his head that Reigen forces himself to just bite down the sarcastic comment bubbling up.

If anything, Saiki sounded nervous.

I do not.

"I'm not sure i understand." Reigen opts to say, waving a hand at Shigeo, who seemed just as tense as he felt. "Me and Mob here, arent really search and rescue types. Shouldnt you go to the police for this?"

"We did," The brown haired girl pushed up her own glasses, fingers drumming nervously against his chest. "Look, Psychic's have Telepathy, don't they? And youre the greatest one out there so- so maybe you can reach out to him... For us?"

"Please," The smaller blue haired teen voice quivered, his strangely wrapped forearms clasped together in a begging position. "Even if you tell us he's okay, that's all that matters!"

The conflicting feelings rise in his chest, the urge to tell the kid's everything was strong but-

Please, don't.

"I'm sorry," The smile he gives is a nervous one, lips twitching at the corners of his mouth. "My Telepathy has a range, and even then, if i havent met him personally i wouldnt be able to find him like that."

The way each teen deflated broke something in him, the desperate want to see if their friend is okay was palpable.

"But," He held up the picture of Saiki, the kid was surrounded by other's, 4 of them sitting right in front of him and the rest possibly being his classmates. "I can do this."

His eyes slipped closed, the blinding flourescent light leaving his world a view of dark skin toned reds. He pretended to focus, pretending to pour all his energy into this one photo.

'Do you really not want to say anything?'

No.

'Saiki-'

Drop it, Reigen, just... Just drop it.

'I'm going to tell them you're okay.'

Don't you-

'I won't say where or how, just that you're okay. Okay?'

...

'Saiki?'

Okay.

His eyes slipped open, squinting slightly at the bright lights as the teens starred at him expectantly.

"He's okay." Reigen smiled, and handed back the photo to the first teen.

"How?" The last teen finally spoke, slightly taller than the rest and gray hair almost white with the indoor lights. "How do we know it's not a trick, how do we know you're telling the truth?"

Well-

"I'm using a form of Psychometry." Reigen explained gently, watching the teen's glare harden. "Using a Photo, i can tell the state of being of the occupant within. There's a lot of you in there, granted, but with your description and knowing who I was targeting, it was easy to narrow it down."

He waved a hand down and up, letting their eyes trace his hand movements as the words registered in their brain

You're such a scam.

'Quiet you.'

"I don't know where he is." Reigen grimaced, the lie burning at his tongue. "But i can at least tell you he's okay."

"This is a trick." The taller teen snapped. "This has to be."

"Your friend," Reigen paused, thinking slowly. "He loves sweets, doesn't he?"

As a unit, they froze. The bittersweet smile he shot to them wasn't for show, Reigen felt sick.

"I got that from the photo." He pointed a hand, and then pulled back. "Loves Sweets, seems to be a bit of a homebody, a very quiet demeanour, yes?"

"All that... Just from a photo?" The smaller teen seemed to tear up. "Is there anything else?"

Don't do it, Reigen.

"I think... He misses you as much as you miss him." Reigen smiled. "His feelings are harder to pin down through the photo, and i don't know if im getting that because of the photo or if it's what he's feeling. But I believe, he misses you all too."

The fear faded, leaving nothing behind but relieved looks.

It took a couple minutes to wrangle them outside, denying pay even if the taller teen seemed to be loaded.

When the door clicked shut, he paused. Listening to the sounds of Mob shuffling and the absent noises that Saiki seemed to make.

"Kid's not telling us something." Dimple's appearence wasn't a surprise.

"Shut it Dimple." the words weren't harsh, but pointed, even as the spirit rolled his eyes and moved towards Mob, floating behind the other esper. "They're gone Saiki."

Shigeo shot him a look, his normally blank face twosted into something regarding mild concern.

'I know.' And he could hear Saiki shuffle, as if he were oulling himself into a small ball. 'I know.'

Like- do you see my vision????

#tdlosk #mp100 #kusuo saiki #reigen arataka #shigeo kageyama #the first part i imagine to be Mera #the 4 that go is Saiko Kuboyasu Kaidou and Mera #why those 4? honestly cause i can see it happening pretty simply #aiura can't detect Kusuo because of his powers #teruhashi would be mobbed and loose their chances #chiyo doesnt feel like she's close enough #toritsuka can't because seasoning city's ghosts wont tell him squat #akechi would loose people in his ramblings #hairo would be too pushy and turn people away #nendou is very unfortunately nendou so they vetoed him out due to his looks #kaidou gets to go because hes known Saiki the longest and Aren followed #saiko cause money solves a lot of problems and Mera to keep them level headed #i also think Mera and Kaidou combo would kill Saiki #two of the people that he does the most for!#he literally changed the world for Mera and he backs up Kaidou every goddamn day #im HHHH #rekindle anew au

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sunriize · 2 months ago

Text

you know, he won’t

anton x fem!reader

warnings: (his name is mentioned once so you can very much imagine anyone else in his position) angst angst angsttttttt, mention of period, cussing, questioning his sexuality and damn its just angst guys. fluff if u squint and face away from ur screen👍(proofread but take it w a grain of salt its 5.20am rn)

your relationship with anton was complicated. it seems crazy to say that because you were dating him —have been for years. you knew you loved him, or else you wouldn’t have stayed all those years. it was just how he treats you.

he didn’t treat you badly, you dont think he was even capable of doing so, he was just… so, absent minded? inattentive rather. he just never paid attention. of course theres the cute things that he does like, buying you a fresh bouquet of flowers every weekend, or buying you snacks when you’re on your period. but it was never your favourites, it was never fresh smelling hyacinth, the only flower you found yourself obsessing over, or your favourite bitter-tasting dark chocolate. you remember listing these early on into dating, thinking he would’ve atleast noted it down, but, nothing.

it was all trivial at the end of the day, you know he loves you… he just has an odd way of showing it, you guess. his love was never accommodated to you, he loved you the way he wanted to, there’s nothing wrong with that, you think, but you just wish you could be loved the way you wanted, you wish you could morph him into your perfect man. which sucks, because you knew he was good for you, you knew you loved him, you just wished he was better.

you tried to accept him for what he truly is —distant. but sometimes it hurts? not being able to receive what you want from this relationship knowing he receives what he wants. you know he loves you but why won’t he show it? properly.

you want to hold him in the night, you want to caress his hair to relieve his stress, you want to jump up and down excited with him, you want to love him, but you just, can’t. you can’t look at him without feeling resentment, without feeling like you’re the problem, and sometimes you are, you can admit that, but this.. this is different, its not a fight, its not a disagreement nor is it an argument. you just don’t feel loved, the way you want at least. this makes you feel selfish, but he’s the one being loved, not you. you know that he knows you feel like this, but he won’t do anything about it. you know he loves you, but he wont show it.

he makes you feel disgusting, like you’re unlovable —or rather unworthy of love. but you know he loves you.

it hurts, honestly, it really fucking hurts. you see how he acts with his friends, how he’s comfortable with initiating skinship with them, how he gets excited around them, how he remembers little things about them. honestly? sometimes you think he’s gay.

maybe this is all out of jealousy, but you’re his girlfriend, he just doesn’t fucking act like it.

for some reason, even though you know it’s not your fault, you cant help but feel guilty and tear up at these thoughts, he’s your boyfriend, you’re meant to love him wholeheartedly. and you did, but thats exactly the problem, you did.

maybe, you truly just loved him.

a/n: guys i’ve never been in a relationship i have no clue where this angst came from 👍 also im ngl the whole time writing this i felt like i was in that one sad video, daddy is the sweetest in the world, daddy wants me to be the best, i love my daddy, but…. but he lies 😭😭😭 guys did i eat w the fic name yes or naurrrrrr 🫦

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mariahcarreyyy · 10 months ago

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OH YOU DID DO MY ASK JUSTICE, MORE THAN 🥹

If you were to make this a series, I come bearing the following suggestions;

How did they get into a throuple? Reader being a major flirt with both Lando and Oscar. Oscar gets fed up with it, so he fucks her to work his jealousy off, but Lando walks in. Instead of being hurt… Lando starts jerking off. ORRRR

Reader and Oscar are together, and Lando gets pouty about not being included in things anymore. Then Oscar’s like- you know what, fine. (Could also be Landoscar, or Lando x Reader at first)

Fluffy aftercare blurb/segment

A fic in which Lando and reader are all buddy buddy with Carlos bc they’re friends with him and Oscar is Not Happy™️. They are punished accordingly. Lines that come to mind; “I’ll fuck you so good that you can’t even think about anyone else”, “You brats really like to get me riled up”, “We weren’t doing anything wrong!”, “Say you’re mine or else you don’t get to cum for a month”

Lando and Reader planning an extra slutty surprise for Oscar’s birthday

BUT OFC ONLY IF YOU WANT TO DO ANY OF THEM sksksksk I have been fed by the fic it’s really the best thing I’ve read this year so far you are so talented ok. I am obsessed. A literal goddess.

Ok that’s it I’ll stop rambling now

OMG THESE IDEAS ARE INCREDIBLE CAIT WAS NOT LYING😰😰😰😰 thank you for em bby will def be using them YOU are the goddess🙏🩷🩷

the first one...lando getting caught fucking himself into the circle of his fingers after he lets out a particularly loud groan from behind the extremely thin drivers room...then oscar telling him to join🙈🙈🙈 damn i just got chills

i can totally imagine oscar being so nonchalant about suggesting lando join him and readers relationship

"its like you guys dont love me anymore," lando whines when you and oscar cancel on another plan to do some weird shit like bowling together instead. "Why don't you just join us, then," oscar suggests, scrolling lazily on his phone. Lando smiles and moves to grab his bowling shoes, "Oh, okay." "No, as in a couple." Its nearly comical when both you and lando shriek, surprised but not at all disgusted by the idea, "WHAT?!"

The lines for the jealous!oscar thingy with lando and you😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 will 100% be doing that thank yewwwww!! reader and lando are so oblivious of oscars jealousy, bless them-- they'd be so confused at how oscar's normal grumpyness morphed into a real grumpyness.

They keep asking him whats wrong but he just waves them off until they get back home and he shoves both of you on the bed, ripping off his shirt while incoherently cursing carlos under his breath.

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fuckitupfelix · 3 months ago

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hai… its me again BUT I HAVE ANOTHER SCENARIO IDEA ALSO IMMSORRY AHOUT MY OTHER ASK AUGHH IT WAS RIGHT IN UR RULES DUDE BUT BUT MY IDEA IS SCENARIO OF WHICHEVER HQ CHARACTER OF UR CHOOSING WITH AN S/O WHO HAS REALLY BAD MUSCLE STRAIN FROM PRACTISING VOLLEYBALL BUT REFUSE TO REST AND GAGAGAGA :3

DONT WORRY ABOUT IT BRO ITS ALL GOOD!!! IM GONNA COOK WITH THIS ONE TO MAKE UP FOR IT 🙏🙏 actually writing now hope this doesn't turn out bad..

hit it til it breaks...?

iwaizumi hajime x male reader

word count: 1k

iwaizumi's noticed that his boyfriend, seijoh's libero, hasn't been doing his best.

FEM ALIGNED DNI

iwaizumi has seen what pushing yourself past your limits can do to you. he's seen how oikawa always strived to be the best he could, sometimes pushing himself beyond exhaustion. it takes a huge toll on your body, so iwa promised himself he'd take care of himself, and it's not exactly a secret. he pushed everyone to do the same.

so it surprised iwaizumi when he noticed (name) acting different in the past few weeks. they were all very subtle changes; he would buy coffee in the morning more often, was a bit slower with receives, and a little more tired than he usually used to be.

he was pushing himself.

that's what iwaizumi thought initially. he's seen the signs in oikawa enough times to know the aftermath of straining yourself and making your body work overtime. he decides to wait a bit, see if (name) would mention anything by himself. he didn't.

"iwaaaa," (name) called, leaning over iwaizumi's desk. "can i borrow your homework answers?"

iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at that. "you didn't get time finish it last night?" he asked, pulling out the papers. he noticed his boyfriend's hesitation before he took the papers.

"nah, only got through half of it before i went to bed. my mom had me run errands after school. y'know, groceries 'n stuff." (name) said causally. he hunched over iwaizumi's desk to quickly write down the rest of his answers before passing the worksheets back to him. "thanks!"

"yeah, no problem. . . by the way—" but (name) had left before he could ask his question.

later that day, during practice, the team was doing a spiking drill. (name)'s receives were all flawless, but iwaizumi noticed the slight stiffness of his movements. how he grit his teeth for a spike that wasn't particularly hard to get. how his feet left the ground half a second too late. how his breathing grew ragged faster than usual.

'maybe im overthinking things,' and so he shook the thoughts away. he's used to having to deal with oikawa's bullshit. maybe its made him paranoid.

he went to spike, moving fluidly. the ball went a bit of a distance away from (name)'s direction— almost halfway across the court— but he still went for it. that's when it happened.

(name) reached, pushing himself to make contact with the ball, willing himself to. and he did. he sent it up nicely— a beautiful arc straight to the net. but his body had already exhausted itself. it was too much. his face contorted in pain as he felt his leg spasm. his body slammed against the floor, his shoulder connecting with the wood panels in an odd way. his body tumbled over itself like a ragdoll. (name) just laid there.

iwaizumi darted over to (name), eyes blown wide with panic. as gently as he could, he grabbed his shoulders, lifting him up. his grip was still tight.

"(name)? (name), are you okay?" he asked, sweat dripping from his forehead onto (name).

(name)'s eyes opened, face morphing into a frown. "yeah, shit. . . sorry," he mumbled. he tried to push himself to stand, but let out a sharp groan, falling back down to the floor.

the sound of shoes squeaking against the gym floors was faded as (name) and iwaizumi sat together in the club room. (name)'s leg was propped up on one of the chairs.

'how did this happen?'

sure, (name) was pushing himself more than usual, but that was because the inter-high preliminaries were right around the corner! he had to do his best so the team could go to nationals!

"hey." iwaizumi's voice drew (name) out of his thoughts. ". . . why didn't you stop?" he asked.

". . .what?"

"you were pushing yourself too hard, your body couldn't keep up, and now you can barely move your legs. why didn't you take a break?"

(name) tensed up at iwa's words. he frowned. "because i needed to do better. i needed more practice. i need to be better—"

"is this really better to you?" iwaizumi cut him off. (name) flinched at the volume. iwaizumi was pissed. "seriously, tell me. do you think pushing yourself this far helping anyone? we all need practice, but without breaks, you're doing more harm than good!"

"i know that!" (name) snaps. he glared down at the floor. his head was spinning and his legs were throbbing and he could feel his face grow hot, tears brimming in his eyes.

"i know it was stupid, i know i should have paid attention, i'm sorry. i just wanted us to do better! i wanted us to win." (name) managed. god, he knew he sounded pathetic, the way his throat closed up on him, making him sound all whiney. he rubbed the tears away with the back of his hands, his face scrunched up.

iwaizumi wasn't expecting that. he walks over, sitting next to his boyfriend. he wraps an arm around his shoulder, bringing (name) in to rest his head on his chest.

"hey, hey, it's okay," iwaizumi mumbled. he wasn't great at comforting people. he ran his hand along (name)'s back, rubbing circles. "c'mon. can you stand properly? i'm taking you home."

"what? come on, iwa, just give me a minute, i-i can make it for the rest of practice—"

"(name)." iwaizumi said sternly. "what you need is rest. you don't need to overexert your body anymore. and, you're banned from any type of practice until you get better." he adds.

"what?" (name) sputtered. "that's not fair!"

"of course it is, dumbass!" iwaizumi huffed, crossing his arms. "if you try to play volleyball injured, it'll get worse and take longer to heal. seriously. i don't like seeing you hurt," he adds, quieter that time.

a small smile grew on (name)'s face at that. "fine, but only cause i don't want you worrying," he chuckled. he leaned over to plant a small kiss on iwaizumi's cheek.

". . . okay, now help me up? please?"

AAAAJFHHH i hope that was okay (⁠>⁠▂⁠<⁠)!!! it was kind of angsty idk if you wanted that. . . lmk if i need to fix anything!!! requests are still open btw!!

divider by @/plutism !!

#(⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆ lix writes !!#haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #hq iwaizumi #iwa x reader #iwa x male reader #iwaizumi x male reader #x male reader #male reader #x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #hq!! x reader #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu angst

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imbecominggayer · 1 month ago

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How To Write Time Skips

From @ravennova7: How to you handle time skips in stories? I can write out scenes happening in real time, but narrative summarising isn’t something I’m good at. I just can’t seem to write exposition properly. "

And so, this post will be dedicated to how to write time skips!

A) Introduction

It's important to properly weave time skips into the story. Without the proper set-up for time progression, the audience can quickly loose their footing. Even if you are trying to write a story where the audience gets thrown of their feet, the readers need some type of directioning.

In order to incorperate time skips into the story, you need to soften the edges between here and now.

If you are writing a time skip in one chapter, you could use an expository phrase such as "three months passed...", "one day morphed into the next and suddenly...", "by the time...", and all those other types of phrases.

When you are writing the time skip across different chapters, in my opinion, it's easier to write a skip in time due to the fact that's more weaved into the formatting of the story.

You could change the perspective to a new character or return the perspective to the original holder.

One example of a time skip I really liked was when a character was trapped in time. From their perspective, we see them walking up to and shattering a hourglass. When we meet up with another character, we learn that some time has passed.

It felt jarring but not as jarring as it could have been if that scene wasn't in there.

Overall use section breaks to establish that the flow of the narrative has changed. I also try to use running themes throughout the time skip as a way of linking these two scenes together. It could be through the same character being the focus of the scene. It could be a "before vs after" type of comparison in which a character tries to do something two different times to show change. Basically, a training montage.

Another example of a time skip that was used effectively was "What Remains Of Edith Finch". Specifically, the ending monologues. The protagonist's ever-present narration guided the audience through the many years that passed. The story keeps the same emotional through line as everything feeds into one another. It feels like a conversation.

B) Limitation And Usage

Time skips are used to skip over detail that isn't providing necessary information. Movies often use montages to communicate that time is passing.

Time skips and montages are necessary tools because readers don't want to sit through weeks of the same character going to the gym.

Time skips, in my opinion, should be used sparingly and only when necessary. It's exceedingly jarring. It can smack down on the emotional threwline. It's messy.

REMEMBER: Don't use time skips to skip out on character growth.

I remember this one f*cking time when the protagonist got injured. Then a second later. He's healed. This would be fine. UNTIL

They had this protagonist undergo MASSIVE character growth WITHOUT ME! This guy wasn't my protagonist. He was suddenly nice! He was confident. He was best friends with everyone now!!?! He was suddenly besties with this guy who was his enemy just two seconds ago!!!!?!

I had to drop the story.

Try to keep character relationships the same through the time skips if you are "going to black". If you are pulling a montage move where you pass through the events of their friendship building then it's fine. If you have a character think about why their relationship changed, fine.

BUT NEVER just randomly have your protagonist suddenly change! Explain the change. I'm in your character's head to see their progression. To be there on their journey, dont make me skip the big action sequence!

Use time skips to skip over the in-between steps. Skip over the characters buying a ticket. Skip over the character's walk up the stairs. Skip over the fight sequence.

But don't skip over important and potentially engaging character development!!!!

C) Selective Conclusion

Remember, narrative isn't real time. Our experience of time isn't real time. Five minutes could be too soon to say everything you need to say or it could be the most agonizing amount of time to hold your breathe.

You probably skip over time naturally. You don't write a character's every errand nor their every thought. The only time the camera touches down on a character is when it's narratively relevant.

To decide when a scene is important, establish what information you need to know in order to fulfill the plot.

If you have a character you want to show as both in love with Girl and bad at school. You can have a character walking out the school, textbooks heavy in hand, who suddenly bumps into Girl.

Then use a transitional sentence to show the audience that we are done. "Well, at least there's one good thing about school".

#writeblr #writing #on writing #creative writing #writing advice #writers #writer #writers block #writers on tumblr #writers and poets #writerscommunity #time skip

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lovelyhan · 2 years ago

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HI LOVEEEER

I have a blurb for inflection point 👀👀 SOMETHINT MORE HOLY BECAUSE I FEEL LIKE EVERYONE HAD A SHITTY ASS WEEK!!

Jeonghanio and Seungcheol are just chattin away on their couch and reader comes home hella annoyed bc of work even tho jeonghans like "🤨" and then its just comforting bc reader just drops mega f bombs everywhere to a point where both men are terrified.

ANAGWAYS U DONT HAVE TO RESPOND I JUST HAD A IDEA 🫶🏼🫶🏼 LOVE UEYEYEYE

⟣ when you're having a bad day ⟢ wc: 1.8k words tags: fluff, sooo much fluff, cuddling

All you could think about after this shitshow of a workday is your wonderful cloud couch at home.

Not only does it provide maximum comfort during your...more risqué activities with either or both of your boyfriends, but on days much like this one, you can just sink into the plush cushions and let them swallow you whole. Almost like you're floating on a fluffy cloud—hence, the namesake.

You were mortified when Jeonghan finally spilled just how much money Seungcheol invested into that sofa. It was probably three—no, four times more expensive than the king-sized mattress he'd gotten for the three of you a year ago. Then and there, you realized that your first love has developed quite the eye for home furniture, and decided to make good on his paychecks by purchasing only the best of the best.

But the net worth of your cloud couch isn't the issue here.

When you shut the door behind you, the idle background noise from that sitcom Jeonghan has taken a fancy to these days flits to your ears—somehow easing the tension in your shoulders. He had to stay home because of a fever that's been running since yesterday evening. While that resulted to you having to cover for your boss' responsibilities for the day, you were glad to know he's been resting up just like you insisted all morning.

Jeonghan was particularly stubborn about using up a sick leave because one of the company's more insufferable clients scheduled a meeting with him today—one that apparently can't be pushed back a day since he's flying out of the country tonight.

So, like the outstanding employee and girlfriend you are, you reassured your boss-turned-lover to just relax, and that you and his secretary, Joshua have got it covered.

Besides, you've been in this business with Jeonghan for years. How bad could he possibly be?

"Whoa," Seungcheol pipes up from where he's buried under a fluffy comforter with Jeonghan on the couch. "You look like shit, babe. What happened?"

"Seungcheol," Jeonghan kicks his leg, and you don't miss the nasal quality to his voice. Your lover's miffed expression then morphs into something more hospitable. when he turns to you with a smile. "Hey, sweetheart. How was work? Not too difficult without me?"

You answer their questions by collapsing on the vacant spot right next to Jeonghan, a whine caught in the back of your throat as you buried your face his sweatshirt. He smells like laundry detergent and Salonpas—a far cry from his usual expensive colognes, but it fills you with a sense of quiet satisfaction, knowing you get to see him this vulnerable.

And Jeonghan can also see how vulnerable you are right now.

"He's so..." you trail off for a moment, the words lost on you because of how pissed off you are. "Why are we even considering doing business with such a fucking creep?"

Seungcheol tenses from the other side, rising a little to furrow his brows. "I know I don't usually ask about the specifics, but is this about that new client of yours? Did he do something weird to you? Am I going to have to beat someone up?"

Jeonghan sighs, easing a palm across Seungcheol's thigh over the comforter. "Cheol, calm down. If Mr. Seo has a type, it's definitely not our princess over here."

"What does that even mean?"

You huff before tucking your legs to your chest and shifting your weight into Jeonghan. You know you probably shouldn't be putting too much strain on someone who's sick but you can't help it!

"That weirdo wouldn't stop eye-fucking Joshua during the entire meeting! I bet he was even happy that Hannie wasn't with us today 'cause there was no one else that could tell him off. Joshua isn't exactly the confrontational type either, so..."

Jeonghan presses his lips together before making you rest your head on his shoulder, stroking your hair to placate you somehow. "But you're the confrontational type, right? Why didn't you show that asshole his place, hm? You've seen me do it dozens of times."

"In case you're forgetting, I'm just a regular employee, Hannie." You roll your eyes. "If I talk back to him, he might just have me fired."

"Who gets to hire and fire people in the office again?"

"...You."

"And do you seriously think I would fire my favorite employee?" Jeonghan teases, leaning down to plant a kiss on your nose. "You give the best head underneath my desk, love. What makes you think I'll let you go so easily?"

Your reaction is immediate, and Jeonghan lets out a soft chuckle when you peel yourself away from his embrace to relocate on Seungcheol's side—glaring at your boss as you grab tightly onto the football star's arm.

"Look what you did," Seungcheol laughs before nuzzling your hair affectionately. "As much as I want to know what that feels like, there's a time and place for everything, Han. Don't her feathers look ruffled enough?"

You let out a petulant noise, making a show of tilting your chin up with indignance. "Yeah, Hannie, haven't I gotten enough shit today?"

"Aside from the not-so-discreet Mr. Seo," he starts before getting up to pad over to your side so that you're sandwiched between your two lovers, "what else has gotten our baby so pissed off today?"

You puff out your cheeks, face souring at the mere thought of recalling everything that happened since you walked out of the door to your house today.

Since Jeonghan was sick, you convinced Seungcheol to stay at home to take care of him, despite the latter insisting that he drive you to work. You promised that you could manage, and that you sort of missed commuting to the office anyways.

That's your first mistake because you had no clue that the trains were down today, and you had to stand in a long line at the taxi bay, since none of the city buses pass by any areas near your workplace. You were already running a bit late as is, so you couldn't afford to walk either.

Today, you were an hour late for work when you've never been tardy your entire life (except for that one time your boyfriends tag-teamed you too intensely on a Monday morning, damn these men). In your attempt at apologizing profusely to Joshua—bowing a full ninety degrees and everything—you ended up knocking over his iced americano in the process.

The drink splashed all over an important document Jeonghan's secretary had been going over before your arrival, and that was honestly the first time you saw Joshua look like he wanted to strangle someone in the years you've worked alongside him.

It certainly did not help that you were supposed to meet that creep, Mr. Seo immediately after that altercation. Even if you managed to strike an acceptable deal with him after a few compromises, you could practically hear Joshua silently pleading for god to just kill him with lightning right then and there.

He must've been having just as bad a day as you are.

Your domino effect of misfortune carried over until lunch time when the nearby taco joint got your order mixed up. That happens pretty often though, and on a regular day, you wouldn't have minded, but with how terrible things have gone today, you ended up breaking down in a public bathroom.

As you animatedly recount the day's events, your two boyfriends listen intently. You're completely oblivious to how they slowly and quietly eased you into a more comfortable position on the couch—your back resting against Seungcheol's chest while Jeonghan props your legs on his lap.

"It was just a shitty fucking day," you complain, tears stinging the back of your eyes. You're not sad. You just tear up very easily whenever you're too stressed for your own good. "I hated that Hannie wasn't there. I hated the commute. I hated ruining Joshua's day. And I hate Mr. Seo even if he's bringing us a ridiculous amount of profit in the next few months."

Your rant makes you sound like a kid who got denied the toy she wants at the department store, and you hold your tongue at the realization. Seungcheol shakes his head before grasping your chin with his hand, turning your head so that your eyes would meet.

"Baby, I'm sorry we weren't there for you." He wipes the moisture from your eyes before pressing a long kiss on your lips—one that you immediately melt into. When Seungcheol pulls away, you even find yourself pouting.

"Trust me, I would've filled in Jeonghan's shoes for the day if I knew his absence would take this much of a toll on you," he reassures.

Jeonghan shakes his head at your lover's admission before nuzzling the crook of your neck. "Mmm... I don't know about that, Cheol. You might make the company go under within five minutes of talking to any of our clients."

Seungcheol scowls at him, and you stifle a quiet laugh. Can't argue with that. You and Jeonghan know very well that the way Seungcheol deals with problems is a bit too...aggressive for a corporate setting. He's better off channeling all that frustration in the field.

You jolt a little when Jeonghan circles his arms around your waist, peppering your neck, jaw, and cheeks with kisses that have you laughing at his ridiculousness. He only stops when his face is directly in front of yours, and you can't help the way your heart flutters when his lips curve into a handsome smile.

"Thank you for covering for me today, princess," he breathes, nuzzling your nose with his. "I can't kiss you on the lips 'cause you might get sick, too, but I hope you know how much I love you."

"I don't mind getting your cooties," you tease before leaning closer to kiss the corner of his mouth. "I love you, too, Hannie. But god, I can't imagine how you deal with our clients firsthand. It's one thing to watch you talk to them, but it's another to be the one making the important decisions on the spot."

"And you wonder why I make so much money," he chuckles.

Behind you, Seungcheol taps your thigh to call your attention, and you glance back at him with curious eyes.

"Jeonghan said he wanted to watch a bunch of Land Before Time movies when you got home, but we haven't decided on where to have dinner delivered from yet," he explains, leaning forward to press his lips to your temple. "You got any ideas, beautiful?"

Just like that, the day's stress has gone up in smoke. Though your beloved cloud couch certainly adds a degree of comfort you direly needed, cuddling with your two boyfriends is what ultimately quells your less-than-stellar mood. Even if the stream is lagging a little, and Seungcheol is getting crumbs and grease all over the comforter...

You wouldn't have it any other way.

⟢ end notes: this ended up WAYYY longer than expected. i can't even call it a drabble anymore but bc i've been having a shitty week myself too, i had to channel that all into this lovely request that anon slid into my ask <3 i miss inflection point jeongcheol so much and writing smth fluffy abt them for a change is such a breath of fresh air HEHE i hope more of you send in prompts like this!! i enjoy cooking them up so much~

p.s. check the series masterlist here!

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #💭 request #seungcheol #jeonghan #seventeen scoups #scoups #seventeen jeonghan #inflection point extras #svt fanfic #lovelyhan

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wishing-on-a-staranise · 10 months ago

Text

Chapter 1: Three inches minimum.

(s.h. x gn!reader)

from the river to the sea (educate yourself and help however you can)

Warnings: y/n might or might not be used; no pronouns used (gn!reader); flashbacks within a flashback; suggestivenes (no smut); trauma; might be canon divergent in future (cuz screw the canon) ; very questionable food choices on readers part (don't ask me I have no idea why I put it in)

word count: 9.5k

A/n: alright gang! we start all over again and imma do this right this time. i really am liking doing this rewrite/revamp of the old stuff now that i know where to take this story. so ive added new stuff that i really wanted to and got rid of some stuff as well.

i dont write smut but this is an 18+ blog mdni

promises series masterlist

...

Life in Hawkins was not a normal one. But then again, what did you know about the norm anyway?

You ran away from the Hawkins lab in 1980. Even after all these years, its memories still haunted you. You still got nightmares, they had never really stopped.

It was hard to forget, you in your dirty hospital gown, the cloth had still smelled of smoke. You had been lethargic, exhausted, but you had a goal in mind. Find Eight.

You didn't know where she was, but she was your best bet. In the lab, she was the closest thing you had had to a friend. she was your sister. She told you about what her life was like before she had been taken to the lab, she had remembered a lot from then, you on the other hand, didn't. she used tell you all she remembered from outside.

it had been so long since you had last seen her. two years. 1978.

“Come with me”, she had almost begged, holding your hands in her, “we’ll do all that we wanted to. We’ll be free”

You don't know why you couldn't do it then.

“Please. We’ll have names, we’ll find your real parents, we'll find mine, we’ll be together, we'll be free, that's what you wanted too, didnt you?” she swallowed, desperate, chest heaving. the alarms had been ringing through the halls. The clang of the heavy metal doors and boots stomping rang in the air— they were coming, Papa was coming. you were running out of time. you could run far far away. But you were stuck, your throat dry.

“I.. we can’t”, was all that came out. Your words betrayed you because Eight was right, it was all you wanted. It was all both of you wanted. More than anything. But in the heat of the moment, everything was scary, you were so damn scared.

Eight stared at you, she stepped back, your shaky hands slipping out of her own. The noise got louder, the stomps closer. The betrayal and confusion on her features quickly morphed into a stoic expression.

“Maybe he’s right.” she swallowed, shaking her head, “You are too weak”, she turned and started walking away. you wanted to call after her but nothing came out. she stopped– the guards were so close– she turned her head a little yet still not showing you her face.

“Goodbye, seven.”

You had to find her because despite what she had said, she was your only hope. two years later, it was a shot in the dark at best, but what other choice did you have?

you tried looking for her, but the void was nothing but emptiness, yet crowded as a maze. she wouldn't let you see her. She was hiding, or rather, just not letting you in. you just hoped she was okay.

You weren't sure how, but you managed to stay out of suspicion for a week before an old woman found you trying to ‘steal’ clothes– a jacket more specifically.

That's when you met Jim hopper.

“Ok, kid. How about you start by telling me your name?” a low gruff in the man’s voice. You stayed silent as you looked down to your hands in your lap, there was dirt beneath your nails. Water was hard to come across when you're on the run, especially in this cold.

“How about, where you're from, ‘cause I know you're not from around here” Hopper spoke up again. You pulled the sleeves of your full sleeved t-shirt further down, palms sweaty.

“Listen, kid”, he sighs, “ you’ve gotta give me something” you infact continued to give him nothing. you tuck your cold fingers under your thighs, trying your best to hold back the shivers. The ill-fitted t-shirt and joggers you'd found the day after you'd run away didn't do much in matters of protecting you from the cold. That was why you had tried to get that thick jacket. the very same you were caught ‘stealing’ that had brought you here.

“Mrs. Lauter wanted me to arrest you, y’know?” he tried to prompt you. you didn't look up from the tattered shoes you wore– they didn't fit you, they weren't yours.

“Hey!”, he raised his voice a little, your gaze snapped to his– eyes panicking. “look at me when I am talking to you!” he said sternly.

His gaze softened up along with his voice. “don't have to worry though. I got it under cover. Dumpster diving isn't much of an offense. But you gotta tell me where you came from so i can take you back home”

“No”, you finally speak up with a finality that he hadn't expected.

“Oh, so you do speak”, he leaned back in his chair, looking at you, analysing every detail about you. you avoided eye contact, your frame shivering, the dirt on your skin, your hair, “What's with the whole buzz cut, huh? Last time i checked, that wasn't what the kids were doing these days”

you wrapped your arms around your body, eyes still trained down. “C'mon kid you gotta give me something”, he huffed.

the only movement he got from you was you blinking down at your shoes. “Fine”, Frustrated, he got up, his chair pushed behind him, “then i guess you wouldn't mind being locked up in juvie then”

You looked up at him, eyes wide, brows knotted, not understanding what he said meant.

“That's little people jail”, realisation flashed across your face and he waited for you to say something but when you didn't say anything, he picked up his hat from the table with a deep sigh and moved to walk out.

Just when he was about to push the door to head outside his office, “I need to find my sister”, came a quivering voice behind him, your eyes finally looking at him.

There it is, he thought to himself.

“So”, he started, walking back to his chair, “this sister of yours. What's her name?”

“I– I don't know”, you stuttered, gaze moving back to your hands. You mentally berated yourself for letting it slip. you weren't even sure why you trusted him enough with that information, maybe that was just your 14 year old brain being stupid. you wondered what her name was now.

“You don't know? Your own sister's name?” he waited for an answer, leaning against the table, “what did I say about looking at me when I talk to you?”

You looked at him apprehensively, arms wrapping tighter around yourself, trying your best to not shiver.

He sighed again, voice low, “Listen kid, it's late. So I'd appreciate it if you gave some answers.”

No response.

You weren't sure why, but Jim was willing to help you. you lived under his roof for two weeks, during which he considered what to do with you.

Whenever he inquired about your past, he would be greeted with nothing but silence. He tried asking about the sister you mentioned– nothing.

He decided calling child protective services was the best choice but you knew that as soon as Hopper would make it that call, your Papa would be at his door– ready to take you back to the lab.

Just when he was about to do it, you had grabbed Hopper's hand before he could dial the number and made him forget all about it.

you needed time. you had to find your sister. and for some reason this man wanted to help you, for some reason you felt safe. you felt guilty, using him as just a means to your end. you promised yourself to not use your powers on him ever again.

Hopper didn't adopt you. He was aware that he was a drunk smoker and his place wasn't exactly the most child friendly place, filled with unprescribed medication that he popped like candy.

Hopper did find you the cheapest place in Hawkins, paid your rent until you could get a job, and even enrolled you into school.

Speaking of which– School was fun….. for the first five days– those five days you'd managed to stay invisible, making sure to not draw attention to yourself. But on the sixth day, you realised that you were behind, classes were hard, neither the students nor the teachers were kind.

So you'd get in fights, and the principal would tell you to call your parents and you would call over Hopper– him being the closest thing to it. Hopper would make you promise that you won't repeat your actions, but you would break that promise too.

Then the year 1983 came and Hopper came across the upside down. He instinctively hid the true story of the missing Byer's kid from you– adamant to keep you away from danger. not knowing that you had always been part of it.

You had taken up a job at a gift shop near melvalds. And were now finally making somewhat of an income to survive but now no longer in as much contact as before with Hopper. You were blissfully unaware of your troublesome past lurking only two steps behind you.

The following year, you somehow got roped into the madness of the upside down. When you found out about Eleven and her powers, and you couldn't lie anymore. You recounted your past with Hopper and the young girl who you shared a similar past with.

Hopper had forced you to stay with the kids at the Byer's house with a boy from your school year. Steve Harrington. You knew Steve, he was given titles like "the hair" or "king". Far more better than the titles you were given.

That night you both stood up against Billy, a rage-filled moron. When Steve was down, and he was closing in on the kids, you decided to step in between– shielding them. You had extended your hand, palm splayed across his chest. While pushing him away, you had tried to use your powers, control his mind, maybe just make him faint– you’d done it before. You had done much worse in the past.

Much to your horror, though– your powers didn't work, they were gone.

as soon as the realisation had hit, there had been a pause. Billy had looked at where your palm touched him and then back to your face. He had smirked.

The situation spiralled out of control. You then helped the kids with their plan sporting a broken left arm and dragging along a very concussed Steve.

At the snowball, hopper told you that he was planning on adopting both you and Eleven. Ecstatic, you dropped Eleven off to Mike so they could have their much earned time. Nancy, to whom you'd talked to once, was sharing a dance with Dustin. And Jonathan clicked everyone's pictures. You had decided it was better you wait outside with Hopper.

On your way out, you noticed a familiar car– looking in closely, you realised that it was Steve– his face no longer covered in scars and bruises. The sudden urge to go over, talk and maybe even thank him for helping you back there with the Billy situation. You looked over to Hopper, as if silently asking for permission to go over to him. After he had given a slight nod, you walked over to the car and knocked on the window. He cranked down the glass.

"Hey”, he smiled.

…

Eleven was out again with Mike. Hopper had left for the station and now you were all alone. No one to talk to. You found it ironic how you'd lived in loneliness almost all your life yet you still weren't used to it.

You didn't even want to bother calling anyone because literally everyone had gotten either a job or internship over the summer– Steve at scoops ahoy, Nancy and Jonathan at the Hawkins Post and- well you didn't have any other friends who were your age.

So here you were, in the quiet of Hopper's cabin– save for the chittering of the squirrel Eleven had named Mr. Fibbly. You were alone with nothing to do so might as well do some sort of chores. After racking your brain for what chore to settle on, you decided– Laundry, it is.

Your mind went on autopilot as you gathered the laundry from your adopted father's and sister's room. As you padded to the room with the washing machine, you felt a disturbance. Come to think of it, you had also felt something the night prior as well.

A headache, it was a much milder version of the headache you felt when you used to use your powers but you had lost your powers almost a year ago. So, you brushed it off as your mind playing tricks on you– which you found hilariously ironic, considering that it used to be you who used to play tricks on the mind.

As you unloaded the laundry basket, you felt something again. This time, it wasn't a headache but it felt as though there was a presence. Your actions stopped as the past year's memories came flooding back. The fear that those things could be back weighed heavily on you. Your heartbeat picked up its speed. You had almost been mauled by those demo-dogs, you were traumatised to say the least.

The whisper of wood creaking reached your ears and your throat went dry. Perhaps what's scarier than being alone is realising that you never were. but you're in the cabin, it's safe here. It's supposed to be safe here.

then you heard it again– another creak. You wanted to run and hide yet you also wanted to look at the intruder but your legs wouldn't budge, as if stuck to the floor.

When you finally managed to move your feet and turn around, you were suddenly engulfed in arms and a scent that you've grown all too familiar with.

"STEVE!", you let out a yelp as you turned around to face him, "YOU ASSHOLE! YOU SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME!", you smacked his shoulder as he laughed but then atleast he had the decency to give you a sheepish smile and breathe out a quiet "sorry".

Before you knew it, his lips caught yours, heart still beating loudly against your ribs and lips moving with a rhythm that you'd now gotten used to.

Kissing wasn't really your strongest suit as you'd never really done it before Steve stumbled into your life but you'd gotten a lot of practice in the last seven days.

A smile crept onto your face as he kissed you deeper, his hand held the back of your head. Your hands dropped the shirt that you were holding back in the laundry basket and instead held his jaw as your thumbs rubbed against his cheeks– the skin warm under your fingertips.

"Missed you so much", he mumbled between kisses. Heat crept up your neck as you giggled through the kisses, "you were here yesterday."

"Yeah, so?", he pulled away– not too far though, your noses still touching, "i just wanna be with my favourite person." He planted another small kiss on your lips as if to punctuate his sentence. Another giggle erupted from your throat as he pulled you impossibly closer.

"I thought Dustin was your favourite person"

"Let's not bring Henderson into this, he's barely a person. besides, I'm not interested in kissing him"

Your hands went up to Steve's hair, fingers mindlessly playing with the brown strands that fell on his forehead. "How exactly did you get in?", you asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Same as always– your bedroom window", he said as if it was the most obvious thing.

“You didn't fall again did you?”

“What? No– no, I'm too agile for that”, he paused when you looked at him with raised eyebrows, "who am I kidding? I almost fell. again" he said as his head hung in embarrassment.

"you could've just used the main door– you know no one's home except me", you laughed.

"Where's El?"

"With Mike", you said with a slight scowl, "God, she's with him all the time and they're always swapping spit!"

"Bit like us, isn't it?", He wiggled his brows and you rolled your eyes, "just let her be– she's a kid. Y'know hormones 'n stuff"

"Yeah, I know– it's just– she's barely home and I'm just worried about her, y'know?"

"Yeah, and it's completely okay to be worried", Steve started drawing circles on your shoulder with his fingers perhaps to provide some semblance of comfort, "but you know that she can't always be here right?"

"But I am always here."

"you don't have to be", he frowned and slightly shook his head– looking right in your eyes. This wasn't the first time Steve had mentioned this. He would try to convince you to visit him at the mall, to which you'd mention Hopper's rules and that it was too many people. He would then ask you to come over at his house, since it was always empty, you would again say no– never elaborating.

"But it's like the only place I feel safe, since everything that happened…. Last year", that was only partially a lie. The truth was it was the only place where you had felt safe ever.

"Hey", he held your face in his hands, "those things are gone, okay? Your dad made sure of it." You nodded, choosing not to tell him about the apprehension you've felt in the last couple days– knowing full well that telling him of your anxieties would inadvertently lead to you having to tell him about your now non-existent powers and your past in the lab. The past that you've left behind and have decided to pass off as nothing but a bad dream.

You make a note to maybe tell Hopper or Eleven about all of that though.

A lazy smile adorned Steve's lips as his thumb swiped back and forth on your cheeks. "You look so cute when you're worried", he said with a smirk, as he held your chin with his thumb and forefinger. The smile on your lips grew wide, the corners of your mouth morphing into a suppressed smile. You wanted to say something, your lips even parted to tell him how much you think he's cute and handsome and pretty and how much you were glad that he was there with you but nothing came out. And he didn't need you to. He lifted your chin up to his and you were kissing again– this time more slower and softer than the last.

In that moment, when your bodies were pressed together, you felt like you were in one of those movies that you and Eleven would watch with Hopper on movie nights and then your father would leave around the 30 minute mark, saying that it was too 'awkward'. cheesy rom-coms, that's what he had called them.

Everytime felt better than the last with Steve. As your lips moved in tandem, his arms wrapped tighter than ever around your waist, slightly lifting you off the floor for a second. You gasped into the kiss and your hands slid down from his hair to his chest, laying flat above his heart.

"Steve-" you whispered in between kisses, "Steve I-", he just kept kissing you, "Steve- Harrington!-", you whisper-shouted. The boy let out a hum against your lips, the sound so warm that it was sure to melt you up into warm and happy goo. You almost wanted to give in to him, be engulfed in his scent and warmth while he kissed all your anxieties away. Yet you reluctantly nudged his chest away from yours. Your faces were merely inches away– his warm breath breezed against your cheeks and when your eyes met his, you saw his pupils dilated and lips swollen. His chest heaved a little as he steadied his breath– he was still staring at your lips.

"Steve, I have to do the laundry", you breathed out.

"C'mon you do that like every day", he huffed as he pressed his forehead against yours.

"Yeah, well there's new laundry every day", you begrudgingly moved out of his arms.

"That's preposterous."

"I don't even know what that means", you said with a laugh.

"Neither do I, honestly–", he said with a chuckle, "Dustin used that word and I was like 'I have to use it', so I can fool you into thinking that you actually have a smart boyfriend."

"C'mon you are smart."

"Only to you." He sighed.

“You have to stop talking about yourself like that…. I mean it, Steve." you frowned with a sigh. “You are smart"

"Yeah, that's exactly why I'm scooping ice cream for a job"

"Smartness isn't all about school or marks or jobs or any of that bullshit." You ranted as Steve looked at you with enamoured eyes, "you are smart. You are strong. Last year when everything went to shit, you were the one who made sure of the kids even with a concussion. You looked after them and me. You took Billy Hargrove's beating to make sure the rest of us were okay-"

"That's not what smartness is–"

"-shut up! I don't wanna listen to you putting yourself down." You huffed in frustration, "you protected Dustin, Max and everyone else, you saved me! You make such a huge impact– if it wasn't for you, someone could've died, Steve. But you were there, you made sure that that didn't happen. You aren't weak. And you are a hero. D'you understand?"

Steve nodded, almost dumbfounded as it was probably the most you'd said in one sentence, ever. a faint smile painted itself on his face, his cheeks rosy.

You nodded, “good”, pecked the tip of his nose. you turned around, facing the washing machine– getting back to laundry.

You picked up Hopper’s shirts, checking the pockets in case there were any bills or coins hidden in them– your only form of income. Steve once again tightened his arms around your torso, resting his chin on your shoulder– nuzzling into your neck. His warm breath fanned against your collarbone. “Don’t mind me”, his chest rumbled as he spoke through a smile. You let out a playful sigh and continued your work.

Both of you stayed that way for a while. You checked the pockets of shirts and trousers, separating colours from white just like Hopper had taught you. All the while, Steve landed lazy kisses on your cheek, neck and collarbone. You'd wish you could stay that way forever– so warm, so comfortable, so nice. Maybe it was the fact that it was your first relationship ever and had only now felt safe enough to think of someone in a romantic way but you wanted it to last forever.

Feelings were weird and hard to talk about, and you weren't the best at conveying them. The past week you've wanted nothing more than to tell Hopper and Eleven about yourself and Steve. But your communication skills (or lack thereof) prevented you.

Steve loved watching you just doing normal everyday things, it reminded him of his mother– back when she was around more. So whenever he was not at work or being used as a valet driver by Dustin, he was sneaking over to your cabin. Before you both started dating, he would call you– making sure that Hopper wasn't home and then come barging in with a new cassette tape or to make you try some new ice cream flavour. It took him a couple months to realise that he was essentially looking for excuses to be around you– to feel that lovely and fuzzy feeling that he felt whenever he was with you.

So, eight days prior, he finally built up the courage.

Staring at the wood grain of the cabin door, your favourite ice cream and some flowers in hand, Steve was starting to consider backtracking a little. He really didn't want to mess things up between you two. And as he knocked on your cabin's door, he was contemplating the entire thing but before he could turn around and disappear, the door opened. And there you were, in a plaid shirt that probably belonged to Hopper at some point, hair sticking up in places.

"Steve?"

"H-hey", His cheeks turned pink when your eyes met his and then your gaze trailed down to the flowers and ice cream held out in front of him. The corners of your mouth curving into a smile. That smile– the one he'd couldn't get enough of. "You didn't call today, hopper could've been here”, you said, looking back up at him. he wondered if you could tell how nervous he was.

"Yeah, sorry, I uh- I bought this", he held up the ice cream cup and then the bouquet, "and- and these f- for you", he stuttered as he handed you both. God, whatever happened to the harrington charm?

You let out a giggle as you hugged the flowers close to your chest, "yeah, well duh", you joked, not truly understanding the meaning behind his gesture. It was pretty common for Steve to bring you ice cream anyway, the flowers didn't make sense but then again you weren't the greatest at grasping social cues.

You turned on your heel, socked feet moving toward the kitchen so you could grab a spoon for the ice cream. Steve was still stuck, standing at the doorway, face bright red.

You started rummaging through the drawers in the kitchen to try and find two spoons. When you found them, you held the pair up in the air, one for him to take, “Here,” looking back up at him, you saw that he was already looking at you as if about to say something.

say it.

“You okay?” you asked, brows pulled together.

okay, maybe don't say it.

“Steve? Why do you look so–”

fuck it.

"I like you", Steve blurted out– like he was ripping a bandaid. You stopped in your tracks and stared at him, the easy smile on your face fell. He fucked up, didn't he? He has ruined everything, and now he has lost another friend–

You burst into laughter, “yeah, I know Steve. I like you too." you playfully hit his upper arm before holding up the spoon again, "Here.”

the utensil still stayed in your hand, the deep furrow in his brow hadn't disappeared, only, it grew deeper.

"What?" you asked with an uneasy laugh.

“That not what I… meant”, he paused, "I- I like you."

You blinked, processing it, all that came out was, “oh.”

He calls out your name. He let out a deep breath, you however looked like you had forgotten how to breathe. Steve squeezed his eyes shut, mentally berating himself for being so nervous– it was a first for him.

you looked at him like a deer caught in headlights, he could almost see the cogs and gears turning in your head. after a few seconds you spoke up, “We’re… we’re best friends...” your voice barely a whisper.

Steve swallowed, trying his best not to show any disappointment on his features, nodding slowly before before turning to rush out of the door and get the hell out of there.

“Steve?” he heard behind him and despite his mind telling him to leave, his heart echoed. he swallowed, turning around hesitantly. and there you were, hair still messy, clothes wrinkled as always, hands fidgeting by your sides, you looked as if you were preparing yourself to say something.

You walked towards him and as you stood infront of him, you gulped. but you didn't say anything.

next thing he knew your lips were on his and the moment after it they were gone. it ended as quickly as he felt it.

You looked at him with doe eyes, Steve knew he probably had the stupidest grin on his face. a shy toothy smile grew on your face too. he extended his hand to you, you took it and he realised that you were trembling. He squeezed your hand. His gaze trailed down to your lips, you bit your lips before speaking up in barely above a whisper. "I think... that I like you too."

Steve let out another exacerbated breath as he smiled wider. His face was all red, and his stupid dopey smile that probably looked as though he'd won a lottery.

He murmured your name through bated breath. "Yeah, Steve?"

"Can I- uh- do that again?", His fingers intertwined with yours almost as if to make sure that this was actually happening.

You nodded quickly.

Your eyes fluttered close as he landed a chaste kiss on your lips. Steve made sure that the kiss was light and soft, almost as if dipping his toe to test the waters. And before you knew it, it was already over. He pulled back eyes wandering over your features, looking to make sure that you were okay with this. You looked back up at him with your lips slightly parted– in an unreadable expression.

"You okay?", He asked quietly. You nodded, "yeah, you okay?"

"never better."

...

That was the start of something big, Steve knew that. Although it had only been a week since the incident, he knew he didn't just like you– there was way more. There was care, there was understanding, there was trust and more.

Memories swirled in both your heads while your hands worked on their own accord, still doing the laundry. You picked up Hopper's dirty uniform pants, following the routine of checking the pockets. Then you reached for the shirt of the pair in the basket yet it was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, Stevie", you piped up and he let out a small hum behind you. "Could you go and get Hopper's shirt from his room?"

"Sure can." He mumbled before pecking your cheek and then he went to Hopper's room to retrieve the shirt. He was back within mere seconds, "here ya go, your highness", he said, handing you the shirt that reeked of way too much sweat, cigarettes and beer.

You continued with the work, taking out the cigarettes from the pocket with a sigh. Hopper had promised that he'd quit smoking so much– guess he broke that promise.

Steve picked up the pack and took one in his mouth, searching for a lighter. You took the cigarette out from between his lips and the pack in his hand and threw it in the trash. "C'mon don't be like Hopper" you said with a frown, "he literally can't stay away from those."

“One smoke wont hurt. Besides I haven't smoked in more than a year now”, Steve said returning to his previous position of holding you, "don't wanna be a bad role model for the kids, I guess."

"Wow, now you really sound like a dad", you let out a chuckle.

"I'm not their dad", he groaned.

"So, mom, huh?"

"I wont kiss you if you keep calling me that", he mumbled behind your ear– a giggle erupting at the ticklish feeling and what was now an inside joke between you two. "Let's just stick with ‘role model’" you nodded.

"I'd say that they look up to you…. Especially Dustin"

".....Y' think so?"

You hummed in response. It didn't take a genius to notice the bond between Dustin and Steve. Sure, it was a bit out of normal to befriend someone five years younger than oneself but then again none of the circumstances they'd been through were normal. And ever since the previous year's events, Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson had developed a sort of brotherly bond.

"cool", he muttered nonchalantly.

Comfortable silence once again fell between the two of you. Steve drew circles on the exposed skin beneath the hem of your shirt, his fingers leaving sparks along the surface. In all honesty, you wanted to drop all your laundry and just let him hold you, kiss you.

You and Steve had only been together for more than a week at this point– only going as far as kissing. You were still incredibly new to all relationship stuff, so Steve (despite being quite a horndog) had given you plenty of space. The last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable or unsafe– and you were grateful for that. However, it was hard to ignore the attraction you both felt for each other. In ways both emotional and physical. Hopper hadn't ever truly given you the birds and bees talk, so you were a little clueless in the process of it all. Yet you knew that you felt something when it came to Steve Harrington. Something that you've never felt before.

You put in the last shirt in the machine, with the detergent and started it. You turned around in Steve's arms as you wrapped yours around his neck.

His hair was short of a mess, but it was still a pretty mess and stray strands bounced against his forehead. You both were so close that you could count all the moles and freckles on his face. Your gaze ran over all his features, taking it all in, engraving it to memory. Because you didn’t want to forget about the slight pinkish hue of his cheeks, the small bump on his nose that might’ve been the result of being hit a few times too many, or his lips. His soft, pink, warm, yet slightly chapped lips. The very same that had been on yours just a bit ago. Your proximity even allowed you to see the scars that the previous years had brought to him, they were small and barely noticeable now but they were there and you wanted to trace them and kiss them all.

“Y’know I would’ve called you creepy for staring so intently, if you weren’t so cute”, Steve smirked.

You tried to hide your face in his chest to hide your embarrassed features. He kissed the top of your head, mumbling a little, “you’re so cute”

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I was thinking….”, your voice tapered off as you tried to look for the right words.

“Yeah, what were you thinking?”

“Y’know… Thinking about... us?”

His breath hitched as the worst case scenarios started racing through his mind. Did you want to break up? Did you not feel the same? Were you going to leave? Were you-

"And…. I think that–", you gestured vaguely with your hands, trying your best to convey what you were trying to say without really saying it but Steve's mind was running a million miles a second. You could almost see the gears turning in his brain, and perhaps he was starting to understand what you were saying but still wanted you to say it out loud, "I'm y'know– Ready?"

"Ready for?"

"Y'know! Ready for…", you fidgeted with his hair, your eyes not meeting his, "Sex?"

"Oh." Steve let out a breath of relief as his concerns drifted away.

"If u want to, obviously", you quickly added.

"Oh, I want to but are you sure? We don't have to rush, and we won't do anything unless you're sure of it, you know right?"

"Yeah, I– I know "

"So? Are you sure?"

"I think so, yeah", you mumbled in the most unconvincing way, you really weren’t sure if you were being honest. Steve frowned, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"How 'bout you sit on this idea a bit more, ok? And if and when you're sure then and only then will we do it, ok?"

You nodded, shoulders relaxing. "Can I still get a kiss, though?"

"Of course your highness", he murmured with a smile as he leaned his head to kiss you. Your hands went to his hair again and his went to hold your cheeks. He held you so softly as if you'd break if you were to slip out of his hands. His palms helped in tilting your head sideways so he could kiss you deeper. But before you could continue, there was a knock at the door. You both immediately moved away as a reflex.

"I thought you were going to be alone", Steve ran his fingers through his hair to fix his brown locks.

"It's probably El", you reason while fixing your own hair, "Please hide in my room?"

"But–"

"Steve, if she finds out about us she'll tell Hopper, and I wanna tell him myself please?"

"Ok ok, Jesus."

"Thanks", you mutter before landing a quick kiss on his cheek and then jogging to the front door of the cabin. There you are met with the faces of your little sister and her boyfriend.

“Hey guys! You are–”

“We’re late, we know”, Mike huffed out, annoyed.

“Yeah, so late”, you hadn't even noticed that they were late.

“Are you mad at me?”, Eleven looked at you with such puppy-dog eyes that your heart immediately melted– you could never truly be angry at El. Mike however-

“No, El. I’m not mad, don’t worry”, Eleven grins at you and then hugs you tightly– squeezing you mercilessly. Suddenly, the young girl stills. When she pulled away, you noticed that her eyebrows were knitted together– her eyes were roaming around the cabin as if looking for something.

"What's wrong?"

"There's something– I felt something" she spoke with a cautious tone as she walked to the middle of the room– next to the coffee table– looking for any signs of the upside down, demogorgons or demo-dogs. You weren't the only one traumatized, Eleven perhaps more so than you– not that it was a competition. The girl had single-handedly fought interdimensional monsters multiple times already and she wasn't even fourteen yet. The hair on her hand arose in goosebumps, "there's something in here."

Your mind went back to the previous night and the uneasiness you'd felt. You'd chalked it up to your imagination and anxiety– there's no way they were back– but what if they were? Eleven sure as hell was feeling something and you felt it the night before too– it couldn't be a coincidence. Perhaps Steve Harrington was wrong. Perhaps those things are still out there, waiting for the correct moment to attack– ready to tear you apart, the moment you look away.

Eleven walked towards your rooms, Mike following behind her. The short-haired girl's steps stopped right in front of your room. The same room you'd felt that thing last night. The same room in which Steve was hiding. Steve.

Steve.

Uh oh.

"El– it's probably nothing–", you tried to stop her from discovering your scandalous affair but before you could complete your sentence, the superpowered girl used her powers to open the door wide open. Your gaze darted across the room– no Steve Harrington in sight. "See? told you", a sigh of relief left your lips, he had probably gone out the window, "its nothing."

But Eleven's posture was still stiff, she took careful and cautious steps towards your closet, eyeing the thing as if it was your poor hand-me-downs who she fought against the previous years.

"Eleven–"

Mike shushed you. Eleven moved closer to the closet, she braced her legs and held out her arm, ready to use her powers.

"El–"

Eleven yanked her hand and the doors to the closet flew open and from between your clothes emerged none other than Steve Harrington– in all his messy hair glory. "Woah, woah woah woah!--" His back slammed against the wall and he let out a pained grunt.

"Steve?!" Both Eleven and Mike questioned.

"hey", he whimpered.

"Oh god, are you okay?" You walked over to him, helping him stand up, checking for any bruises or signs of injury.

"What is Steve doing here?" Eleven inquired.

"He's here because.. Because I- I called him" he nodded along to you "I was kinda bored" you added

"And why was he hiding?" Mike interrogated with a cocked brow.

"Well—"

"I wasn't hiding—"

"El, you know how Hopper feels about people visiting the cabin", you fidgeted with the edge of your shirt, "he'd get mad."

Eleven knew. She knew how much convincing it took for Hopper to allow Mike to visit her at the cabin– it took him weeks. So she knew how you felt. "Okay", She nodded. She held Mike's arm and started pulling him to her room.

"Okay– uh— El, D'you need anything to eat or something?"

"Eggos!", she said over her shoulder.

"Soda f'me!", mike shouted back.

"Okay."

El closed the door behind her, let go of Mike's arm as she went to wipe the droplet of blood that was on her upper lip.

"So are (y/n) and Steve like, fucking?" Mike asked with a disgusted look.

"F–fucking?" She repeated, confused.

"Um— you know like…", Mike scratched the back of his neck, "are they dating? Like us?"

"I don't know."

"Cuz I'm pretty sure they are."

"Fucking?"

"uh..... Sure", he was going to regret teaching El that word, most definitely.

...

"I think Wheeler might be onto us."

Steve was sitting on the countertop as you loaded the toaster with eggos.

"Of course he is– of all people—"

"I swear that kid hates me."

"I mean— you are his sister's ex so it's a little bit weird"

"Yeah, I guess"

You walked over to the fridge, taking out the whipped cream, chocolate and candies.

"Oh, am I about to witness the triple decker eggo extravaganza?"

"No. The eggo extravaganza is made specifically by Hop for when El is mad at him. This is the eggo spectacular sandwich", you state while setting down the ingredients, "my recipe!" You added with a proud grin.

"Wow, so I guess eggo is to El, what ice cream is to you?", He suggested with a small smile.

"I suppose."

"I wanna know the secret recipe"

"You can't! It's a secret!"

You both let out a laugh. the radio from Eleven's room started blasting "good old-fashioned loverboy" by Queen. Steve then hopped down form the counter, running his hands through his hair. He stood right beside you on the counter, knocking his hips with your— you returned the action. Giggling at your antics. The brunette boy started singing along to the lyrics. He brought your hand up to his shoulder and held the other one with his. His right hand rested on your back as you danced goofily. He started kissing you.

You pull away when the eggos pop up from the toaster. You quickly assemble two eggo spectacular sandwiches and carry the two plates to Eleven's room. "Oh shit— Steve? Grab the soda for Mike please?"

Steve took out a can of coke from the refrigerator, kicking the door close behind him as he followed behind you.

"And here's your eggo sandwiches!", You announced with enthusiasm.

"Here's your coke, man", Steve muttered without an atom of enthusiasm while tossing the can in Mike's general direction— the black haired boy barely managed to catch it. The boy looked at you and then Steve with narrow eyes as he opened the tab, he maintained eye contact while he took the first couple sips of the fizzy drink. Both you and Steve tried your best to avert your gaze.

"Uh– okay I'll be in the TV room if you guys need me", you uttered awkwardly before pushing yourself and Steve out of the room's confinement.

"God, I swear if Wheeler figures out about us, he will tell Will, Lucas, Max, and Dustin. And that kid won't ever shut up about it", Steve said— rubbing his face in frustration. "And if Hopper finds out about this? I am screwed!"

"Please Hop wouldn't do that", you stated, "and I'm thinking of telling him and El today, anyway."

"Wait, seriously?"

You nodded.

"You think I should be there?"

"No no no, I wanna do it with just them around"

"Oh, okay", he fixed his hair— gaze falling on the wall clock, "Oh, shit I gotta go" he pecked your cheek, "or I'll be late…. Again "

"It wasn't my fault last time and it isn't my fault this time either ", you commented behind him as he picked his jacket up, slinging it over his shoulder. He muttered a quick "bye" before he was out the door— off to the mall, to his job.

You let out a deep sigh— reminiscent of your old deadbeat job you had at the gift shop near Melvald's when you lived in the camp next to the Munson's. Although Jim had gotten you a place to live you still needed money, so you'd gotten yourself a job— wrapping gifts and bouquets for people. It would always flutter your heart when people would tell you and ramble a bit about their lives, then you'd spend hours filling in the gaps— wondering how the day turned out for them. You reckoned it was one of the reasons why you were so infatuated by the idea of love. Up until recently it had been such a familiar yet alienating feeling.

But now here you were! Sure, you were unemployed now, but you had a father, a sister and an amazing and beautiful boyfriend and you weren't alone. But the more you thought about it the more you realised that you were— alone, that is.

You still locked yourself in the cabin, telling yourself that it could be still dangerous— and you weren't willing to take a risk.

It wasn't always like this, there was a time when you would actually go out with Steve— sometimes to his house, sometimes to Dustins, or the arcade or anywhere. But ever since you graduated with Steve, you'd made rules for yourself. You won't leave the house anymore, it was too dangerous anyway. You quit your job because it was shitty and you didn't want people seeing you. And although you'd made those decisions, you still wished for a job, missing all the stories you'd make up about the people who visited you.

You spent the next couple hours going through a cardboard box that was filled up with all things Steve and you. Whether it be the graduation hat you wore, or the beer cans from when you got drunk for the first time, or polaroids of you both, flowers he'd bought you, and everything else that tied you two together.

A couple hours passed by, Jim made his presence known with a knock at the front door. You went up to open the door. And as you looked up at Hopper you noticed the bags and dark circles under his eyes— he looked tired and smelled of beer and cigarettes. "Hey, kid", he muttered through his bushy moustache. You let out a sigh and went in to get him some water.

"El back yet?"

"Yeah", you said giving him the glass, "in her room with Mike", you pointed towards the door with your thumb.

"Wheeler's here?"

"When's he not?" You rolled your eyes. The man handed you the glass back and took off his shoes and went into his room. He emerged out within a few minutes.

"Movie night?", He offered

"But El is with Mike."

"What about just us two, huh? Haven't done that in a while"

You agreed and before you knew it you were Cozied up in a blanket while hopper was on the lazyboy. You both watched a random movie while sharing chips, candy and soda. After about thirty minutes into the movie, you noticed Hopper was distracted, the muffled music from Eleven's room was in fact breaking your immersion too. He shoved a handful of chips in his mouth while downing some beer from the can. You turned your gaze back to the TV screen.

"Hey!" Your eyes averted from the screen to him who was now looking at Eleven's now shut door with seething anger. He got up quickly, shouting, "HEY! Three inch minimum! Leave the door open three inches!" He went for the locked door handle, "El? Open this door", he said with gritted teeth, "Open. This. Door—"

The door opened but El and Mike weren't kissing, they were just reading magazines. "What's wrong?", You tried to hold in your laughter at noticing that Mike was holding his upside down. Hopper clearly noticed too.

"Thank God, you don't have a partner," he said pointing at you, "I can't imagine another stupid, undeserving boy hogging up my child." You bit your tongue at his anger. There went your chance to talk about Steve.

It was 12:30 a.m. and you really didn't feel like sleeping. You'd been feeling the headache, again. You went to the kitchen, heading straight to the fridge— taking out the peanut butter jar and pineapple can. Right when you put a spoonful of the mixture in your mouth the light of the kitchen switched on.

"Why in the hell are you up so late?", Hopper interrogated.

You let out a loud yelp, cringing at the sound— the volume sure to wake up neighbours, if you had any. Through the three inch opening of Eleven's room's door, you could see that the light also turned on.

"What are you doing?", The man asked, tucking his gun in his waist belt— surely he had thought of your midnight snack sounds for an interdimensional monster's sounds.

“Nofhing”, you said through a mouthful.

Hopper had known you since you were fourteen, he knew it might've had something to do with a nightmare. “Did you have another one?”

You stopped mid chew, avoiding his eyes– a tell.

“Same thing?”

Before you could say anything, the door to Eleven's room creaked and the short haired girl slowly stepped out, said hair sticking up as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"Everything okay?", She asked.

"Yeah, El shorry.", You apologised.

"Oh, it's okay," she said with a soft smile.

"It's not okay, what are you doing up so late?"

"I was Exshpanding my taste horizons", you stated, looking at Hopper like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"With peanut butter and pineapple at 12 in the morning?" He asked with narrow eyes.

"Please don't question my methods, Hop. I was hungry and wanted to try something new"

“How's that working out for you?”

“I... haven't decided yet.”

"I want to expand my taste ho- horizons too", Eleven imparted, struggling with the pronunciation of the new word.

"See? El gets me."

"Sure, whatever." Jim waved his hand off, "expand whatever, but you both better be asleep within thirty minutes", he ordered before going back to his room.

"Let's go to my room."

You and Eleven were lying on your bed now, covered in blankets. Much to your dismay Eleven wasn't a big fan of the food combo so you took her remaining portion too. Eleven looked around the room, eyes bouncing from one thing to another. It had dawned on you now that eleven had never been in your room for this long.

She got up from her place and picked up a brown teddy bear with a blue ribbon around its neck that was kept on top of your room's table.

"Oh, you found Mr. Arnold Bearenbearer"

"Arnold, w- what?"

"You can just call him Mr. Arnold", you laughed at the stupid name Hopper had given to the soft toy, "Hop gave it to me the first time I was here. I didn't have a place to live, so he took me in for a few"

"I remember being so scared that the bad men were going to get me or worse", you smile soon faded at the thought of the people from the lab and the amount of fear you had felt. "I'm sure Hop noticed and he gave me Mr. Arnold— I think he belonged to Sarah"

"Sarah? Hopper's daughter?"

You nodded with a hum.

"I don't know what it is about Mr. Arnold. It's like he has powers— just holding him makes you feel so safe"

"Mr. Arnold has powers? Like us?"

"Just like us— he uses his powers to help others who get a little scared or lonely, with a hug!"

Eleven gave the soft toy a tight squeezing hug and she visibly relaxed.

"He smells like you and Steve", she whispered into the fur of the bear.

"Yeah, well, don't tell this to anyone but Steve gets scared sometimes too."

"He does?", She asked with wide eyes as if what you'd told her was the most unbelievable thing.

You hummed "Everybody gets scared every once in a while, it's completely okay too." An image of Steve hugging Mr. Arnold tightly like a scared little boy flashed in your head. How he'd once visited you in the middle of the night with red eyes and disheveled hair-- saying he couldn't sleep because of the nightmares. You'd told Steve about Mr. Arnold and just an hour later he was asleep-- free from all the bad dreams.

Eleven came underneath the blanket with Mr. Arnold snug in her arms. She lied down on her side while you lied on your back. after a moment of settling in, she called out your name softly.

"Yeah?", You turned your head slightly towards her.

"Are…. Are you and Steve fucking?", She asked with the most earnest look.

"... what– what did you say?"

"Fucking?"

"D'you know what that word means?"

"Kissing and dating?"

"Who told you that?" trying your best to not laugh, El was a sensitive girl, you didn't want her to think that you were making fun of her– you could never.

"Mike told me."

"Of course he did", you mumbled to yourself before turning on your side— towards her. "Why don't you ask Mike what that means again tomorrow, huh?"

"Okay", she paused as if making a mental note to do so, "So are you and Steve….."

"Yeah, yeah we are."

"You're like me and Mike?"

"Yep."

"why did you not tell me or Hopper?"

"Steve and I have been together for like a week and I was planning on telling both you and Hopper today— but I don't think now's the right time y'know?"

"You will not tell Hop?"

"I will, I just need some time, okay? you know now, I'll tell hopper soon too, I promise", you really were tired of sneaking around, you wanted Hopper to know. tomorrow- you promise yourself. "Promise you won't tell Hopper till then?" its not like you didn't trust her but she isn't the best at hiding something.

"But friends don't lie."

"I'm not lying El, its keeping a secret. I'll tell him but I want to be the one who tells him. you know how I don't tell Hopper if you sneak off with mike without telling him or something like that–"

"So I don't tell Hopper?"

"Yeah", you looked at her with anticipation.

she looked at you, mulling over it before nodding and saying a whispered, "Okay."

silence settles over the two of you. you were almost asleep when eleven's voice saying your name brought you back to consciousness. "Does Steve kiss you?"

you cleared your throat, heat rushed to your cheeks, "uh, yeah, that's what boyfriends do."

"D'you like it?"

"Sure do."

"I like it too, when mike does it."

You hummed, you weren't really sure how to respond. Both you and Eleven fell silent for a bit. your eyes started drooping again.

you heard the girl say your name again, you hummed, "Yeah, El?"

"I think Steve's nice."

"You think so?", You smiled. she nodded in response, a smile of her own.

"... Do you think Mike is nice?"

"I don't really know him that well, but he seems nice, he really does care for you." you really didn't know how to feel about the boy. he seemed to really care about your sister, but you didn't know why, you didn't trust him. not in a he's-gonna-betray-my-sister kind of way but rather, i-don't-know-if he's-right-for her. but maybe you just needed to give both of them a break, they weren't even fourteen, for god's sake.

Your name was called again, you hummed.

“You're awake because you had a nightmare again, aren't you?” the sleepy smile on your face slipped, you looked at her. she looked at you expectantly.

friends don't lie, “...yeah", your voice came as all but a whisper, before the girl could say anything you quickly added, gaze back at the ceiling, "but i don't feel like talking about it right now.”

"Okay", she said, suppressing a yawn.

"Let's get you to bed okay?"

"Here", she wrapped an arm around your torso and mumbled into the pillow, "I wanna sleep here."

"Okay, 'night kiddo", You put your palm behind her head, playing with her hair, scratching her scalp lightly.

She let out a sleepy hum before breathing out a "'night" herself. You continued carding your fingers through her slightly tangled hair as her soft snores floated in the air— before drifting off to sleep yourself.

Hopper wanted to be resting but he also wanted his two kids to be fast asleep at a reasonable time. he was trying his hardest to be the best father he could be— emphasis on trying. So, thirty minutes after he'd found you in the kitchen, shoving pineapple covered in peanut butter in your mouth, he went to check both your rooms to make sure you both were back in bed.

When he saw Eleven's room empty, he felt the beginnings of anger rising in his head. He then looked through the three inch gap of your room's door and saw both you and Eleven cuddled up and sound asleep. Any amount of anger or worry simmered down as he noticed your calm and serene faces— both your gentle snores muffled by the quilt.

He felt a smile creeping onto his features. He then turned back towards his room— footsteps as quiet as possible and went back to slumber himself.

...

A/n: i hope the time jumps weren't too confusing. if they were let me know! i'll try to explain them <3

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader angst #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x you #stranger things rewrite #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x gn!reader #promises series fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction

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romanarose · 1 year ago

Text

Awakening: Melatonin

Frankie Morales x Benjamin Miller

Awakening Series masterlist

Summary: After the events of the group sex (detailed in the masterlist above) Frankie had been distant from Benny, not ready to admit his feelings for Ben. On a camping trip, they can't help but fall into each others arms.

Warnings and content: Anal sex, anal fingers, m/m, blowjob, balls sucking, love confessions, sexual repression, not the most correct termonoligy (Frankie and Santi largely use gay as the same as bisexual/lgbt/queer. They are old men so give them grace.) Internalized homophobia (not a lot, Frankie is just struggling). Aftercare <3 fishben bickering, Miller teasing.

A/N its been. 5 months since i updated lololololol IM SORRY!!! But! I had such bad writers block with how to get them together without just repeating the same stuff as Boys of Summer, but I DID IT!

I know this is just FishBen, not reader so you dont gotta read it when i now ur here for group sex, but next chapter will be the grand finale

ONLY ONE MORE CHAPTER LEFT!

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

“Fish. Hey. Catfish. Frankiiiiiiiiieeee”

“Oh my god, what?”

“I’m fucking cold.”

Frankie sighed loud enough that Ben could hear him in the next tent. The group had gone camping: Frankie, Benny, Pope, Will and you, and when you and Santi offered to set everyone’s tents up in order to let everyone start swimming, he should’ve been suspicious. Granted, he was suspicious. Suspicious they you and Santi wanted to fuck in the tent, not that the two of you had set Frankie’s tent up next to Benny’s. Assholes. You probably did fuck though.

“Of course you’re cold, you were swimming until fucking 10 pm. I fucking told you to start drying off while there was still sun out but you-”

“Oh my god, Fish, live a little.”

This is what simultaneously drove him insane and endeared Ben to him. Ben was a trained soldier: smart, capable, bright. ‘A one in a million talent’, as Will had said… but when he was out of the military, away from Pope’s insane missions and not in the ring, Benny had no impulse control. He chased his next high constantly, never being concerned with the outcome; something he could usually talk his way out of, like he was trying to now. Benny’s excitement for life and thrill at trying something new was contagious, and was the reason they were in this position right now.

Months ago, Pope had approached him, Benny and Will about helping him fulfill a fantasy of his wife’s; being dicked down by all of them at once. What began as a mission to pleasure you and you alone had morphed into something different, a shift in the group dynamics that scared the fuck out of Frankie. The sex was fantastic, you were beautiful and the energy in the room was one of raw sexuality and free love. He supposed he started it. It wasn’t like Benny had done anything to Frankie that Frankie didn’t want. Benny had sucked him off before in the scenario of a threesome with other women, that wasn't new. Benny was bisexual, and a mouth was a mouth so Frankie had been happy to indulge in the sloppy blowjob that ensued between both of your wet mouths… but it was Frankie who had gotten on his knees and kissed Benny, right there in front of the people they loved.

He simply hadn’t been able to take it anymore. The boy was a golden god, sharp but boyish features, devastating blue eyes, and mouth with many talents in and out of the bedroom. He admired so much about Benny, he was his best friend… but he was just supposed to be a friend. The kiss, the way Ben laid beside him when Frankie was still inside you and whispered sweet nothings, the way Frankie cared for Ben after the orgy had ended… none of that was supposed to happen. In the ensuing months, Frankie started withdrawing from Ben, made even more uncomfortable by the seeming romance brewing between Santi, you and Will; something you had all yet to label but were taking step by step. He was pretty sure Will had snuck into yours and Santi’s tent already.

Frankie’s feeling for Benny were hard to ignore, but he was fucking trying. It was apparently bad enough that Santi had confronted him about it, telling Frankie to just talk to Ben and figure it out, but Frankie had insisted he wasn’t gay.

“C’mon, man, I’ve seen the way you look at him, the way he looks at you. Benny fucking worships you and you used to laugh at every stupid ass joke he made, now you just look at him longingly like a sexually repressed victorian woman.”

“I’m not gay, Pope. Just ‘cuz everyone else suddenly decided they were, doesn’t mean I am.”

Pope had looked a little hurt at that, slightly uncomfortable with being called gay just yet. “Frank, you were kissing him and-”

“So what!” Frankie had thrown his hands up. “It was the heat of the moment, doesn’t make me magically gay. You didn’t become gay when you got a dick up your ass!”

He was looking increasingly hurt at Frankie’s comments, but also obviously concerned at Frankie suppressing this. “No, I’m gay because I’ve always been gay, Benny just helped me explore that, and I think you should-”

“Oh fuck off”

Frankie stormed out after that. He later apologized, of course, and tried to be better around Ben. Benny hadn’t pushed for anything more, treating him like normal and no one had brough up group sex again so many things could go back to normal… but it’s been awfully fucking hard with Benny shirtless all day at the beach in his goddamn speedo.

“Fiiiiiiish”

“Wuh-uh-uh-uuuuht?!” Frankie whined.

“Can I sleep in your tent? Please? I’m fucking freezing.”

“Get another blanket”

“I have all my blankets!”

He wanted to say no, to tell him to fuck off and be more responsible… but watching Benny shiver by the fire early had tugged at Frankie’s heart, making him sympathetic. He could practically here his teeth chattering in his tent. “Fucking fine, but bring all your blankets. I’m cold as balls too.” whose idea was it to swim past labor day? Just because it was Florida doesn’t mean they should tempt fate.

Benny practically scampered inside Frankie’s tent, a broad grin on his face. “Thank you thank you thank you thank!”

Intending on Benny using his own blankets and just sharing the body heat of the tent, that went out the window when he saw his hair was still damp. “Jesus Ben, you’re gonna get a fucking cold, get your ass in here.” Frankie lifted up his blankets to allow Benny inside. Ben, for his part, kept a respectful distance. To Benny’s credit, he’d always been careful with Frankie, never pushing him to deal with this side of himself and never pushing for exploration with him. “For fucks sake, I won’t bite.” Frankie scooted up next to Benny, feeling his cold skin. He was sympathetic to Benny’s plight.

Gladly, Benny took the opportunity to cuddle right up to Frankie, sharing in his warmth. It was nice, Frankie had to admit. They laid there for a while, their arms pressed up against each other being the only skin to skin contact Frankie’s received other than quick fucks from tinder.

Of course Ben had to start talking. “I’ve missed this.”

Frankie sighed again. Lots of sighing today. “Can we not talk about it?”

“Okay.” A pause. “I can leave, if that’s what you want.”

He thought about the options. Did he want that? Did he want Ben to leave when he felt so goddamn right? “No, Ben, of course that’s not what I want. I just want things to go back to normal. For us to go back to sharing a tent without it feelings weird.”

Benny turned to look at Frankie, but Frankie’s eyes stayed trained on the darkness of the tent. “It can go back to that. We never have to talk about it again, we can just go back to normal-”

“But we can’t!” Frankie whisper-shouted. “We can’t go back after I kissed you, I kissed you. All those other times it was you blowing me I could justify because you made the move, but I did this, it was me, what am I supposed to think of that?”

Benny seemed to think on that for a while, chewing over his words before speaking. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, Frankie.”

“But it does, because…” Frankie scrubbed his face, groaning. “Because it meant something. You-... ugh… you mean something… to me…”

Another, longer, silence. “What do I mean to you, Frankie? You don’t gotta answer but… maybe we could start there?”

Damn him, he was good at this. The intense darkness of their tent made for a more conducive environment than the harshlights and confronting words of Santi’s home when Santiago had tried, Benny’s calming voice and open ended questions allowing him to think, to speak clearly and with less pressure.

“I can go first, if that’s easier.” Benny offered.

“Yeah, yeah that might be nice.”

Benny didn’t need any time, it seemed like he had thought through this before. “You are my anchor, Frankie. You are… the thing that keeps me grounded. You remind me a lot of Will, in a way, and you’re the only person he’d probably approve of.” Ben gave a small chuckle. “He’s very picky, but… it’s clear the way you care for me. It’s in the way you wrap my hands before a fight and the way you tell me to get out of the goddamn water” Frankie felt a playful nudge. “And how you let me sleep in your tent when I’m freezing my ass off. You care about me, anyone can see it, and I like to think everyone can see how much I care about you. When the helicopter went down, it was you I ran too, your name I called, you I pulled out…”

“I remember…”

“You make me want to be better. You make me want to take better care of myself to lighten your load. You make me happy.”

Frankie was ready. “You know that song, you are my sunshine?” He wanted until he felt Ben nod… when did Frankie lay his head on Ben’s shoulder? “I heard it the other day and thought of you. Everything else gets really… it's gonna be hard to put into words but that’s the main thing. You are my sunshine. You make my days better, especially in recovery. I’ll be having a hard day and you won’t even know and you’ll just brighten it up. I just want to- fuck I just want to take care of you. You say you want to lighten my load but I enjoy it. I like seeing your smile when I bring you food, I like wrapping your hands correctly because I know it’ll help you and protect you. I like it because I like- fucking shit” He had started crying before he knew his eyes were watering, trying to choke it all back. “I love you, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Benny took a moment to process those words, the confession… before oh-so carefully taking Frankie’s face in his beat-up hands. Gentle, he guided Frankie to look at him. The night wasn’t too dark, but still bright enough to make out vague traces of Benny’s face he loved so much and was struck by how his eyes seemed to glow in the darkness. “We can take this slow, Fish. I know Santi jumped into it, but we can take it step by step. Or not at all, but… if you’re ready to admit you love me, I think you're ready for something. And for the record, I love you too. Always have, always will.”

He was doing this. He could do this. Benny would match his pace as he always had, he could take it slow… but right now, he was ready. With Benny beside him… it all seemed so much less scary. “Can you… can you kiss me?”

“Oh baby…” Benny sighed out in relief. “I’ll always kiss you.”

It was desperate, needy, teeth and lips and tongue and in a clamor to release the years of repression between them both, Frankie moaning into Benny’s open mouth.

“You’ll wake them.” Benny said with no real intent to hush his lover.

“Oh please, Will climbed into their tent an hour ago.” Frankie fisted his hands into Benny’s shirt, yanking the boy towards him. “Fuck’n need you.”

“Always needed you, Frankie.” Benny muttered between heavy kisses, turning his body so he was half laying on Frankie. “Always will.”

Frankie’s hands found Benny’s hips, pressing him down on him so he could feel both bulges between them, and the way Ben rutted against him was electric, shooting to the very core of him and circulating through his body. “Fuck’n desperate.” Frankie murmured in Ben’s ear.

Benny chuckled. “Says the one grinding me on him.”

“Oh my god, you never stop talk’n, do yuh”

But Ben could feel Frankie’s smile against his skin as they further pressed into each other, a desperate need for each other’s closeness.

“You wanna do this here?”

“God yes, need you.”

“We can take it slow, take it at your pace.”

“This is my pace, I always- of fuuuuck-” Frankie grabbed the meat of Ben’s ass in his sweats. “I always fuck on the first date.”

Kissing down his neck, Benny made sure to mark up Frankie’s neck. Everyone would know who he belonged to now. “Oh, are we dating now?” He teased.

Frankie’s voice was practically a whine. “Don’t fucking play with me, I can’t fucking take it anymore”

He stopped the motions, the heat of the moment cooling for just a moment while Benny forced Frankie to focus on him, only him. “Won’t play with you, promise. I’m yours.”

“Yours…”

It wasn’t long until both pants were shucked off (shirts remaining on for warmth, a blanket covering over them), Frankie fingering his wet fingers into Ben’s asshole.

“Can’t fucking wait to feel you” He muttered to the blonde, wriggling his body further down. “Gotta taste you, first.” Frankie wasn’t sure where to go first. “I’ve never sucked dick before…”

Benny smiled up at him encouragingly. “We don’t gotta worry about that today.”

“But I wanna…” Frankie’s large wet eyes glanced at him from his position between Ben’s legs. “Wanna make you feel as good as I can, Benjamin.” He tentatively wrapped his free hand around Ben’s cock, stick and hard and dripping for him. “Can I just… take you in my mouth, and you control the pace?”

Ben wasn’t sure how much control he was gonna have with two of Frankie’s long fingers in his ass making him pant and moan already, but he agreed, entangling his hands into Frankie’s soft curls as the older man lowered his mouth on Ben’s length. He took it slow, setting a steady pace but not pushing Frankie further than halfway down him. They could work on that later; they could spend the rest of their lives familiarizing themselves with each other's bodies, learning and growing together. Tonight was simplistic.

“Just like that, doing so good Fransisco… oh god doing so good” Benny moaned for him, the cold of the night long forgotten in the wet heat of Frankie’s mouth. His plush lips looked magnificent stretched out around his dick and the way Frank looked up at him as his fingers pumped Ben might be his favorite sight in the world. Frankie, for his part, was in fucking heaven. This felt right, this felt so fucking right and Frankie felt like he could spent his life sucking and licking on every inch of Ben’s body, and let out a whine when Ben pulled him off. Frankie moved further down, taking Ben’s balls in his mouth as Ben spoke.

“Gonna cum if you keep going like that, want us to cum together.”

“Wanna taste you in my mouth” His mouth joined his fingers, licking at Benny’s used hole.

“Seems like you got a whole lot of me in your mouth, Frank.”

Frankie groaned, frustrated. “Need more. Can’t get enough of you.” He lapped at the pale skin, only bits of him the speedo covered, the taste of river water and sweat dancing on his tongue.

“Francsco, look at me.” Ben called to him, and when Frankie looked up, lips detaching from his ass, Ben took his face in his hands and pulled him up for a kiss. “I know you’re making up for lost time, but we got the rest of our lives. I want to feel you inside me, I want to cum with you.”

Frankie nodded, obliging. “You ready? I know we don’t got lube, I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You opened me up, and theres lot fo spit” he chuckled. “I’m ready.”

With a deep breath, holding onto Benny’s shoulder, Frankie slowly and carefully slid his cock into Benny’s gapping hole and fuck, it felt… it felt… “You feel like home…”

He didn’t try to fit all of himself in Ben; he was aware his dick was massive and without lube, it wasn’t worth potentially hurting Ben just to bottom out. It started out to deserate, so needy, a desire that just had to be fulfilled but melded into something softer. They had the rest of their lives… tonight could be sensual and slow. Frankie fucked into his new lover, Benny’s head tossing around on the pillow as theirs limps and lips entangled, Frankie chasing Benny’s mouth every time Bne’s pleasure became too might.

“Feel so goddamn good Frank, can’t wait to spend my life like this.”

Frankie kissed his nose. “Can’t wait to spend my life making you smile” He took Ben’s dick back in his hands, jerking him as he pumped into his ass. “Can you cum for me? I can’t hold on much longer, been wait’n too long.”

“Y-yes, yes Francsco, I wanna come with you, please?”

“Don’t gotta beg, just lemme see it, lemme see you cum, I’m right behind you, I promise.”

Benny complied, his body writhing as warm cum shot out from his cock. “F-fucking love you.”

“Good boy, baby” Frankie praised, jerking Ben’s pulsing length. “Look so beautiful cumming in my hand, gonna-fuckinghell-gonna fill up this perfect assohmygod” Frankie’s voice sputtered and hips stuttered as he filled up Benny’s warm hole with his cum, fucking him full. “Good boy…” One final time as Frankie slumped onto Ben’s body and into hsi awaiting arms as he carefully slid out. They laid there for a month, panting as they came down from their respective highs, a wide grin on Ben’s blissed out face.

Once he felt like his legs wouldn’t give out, Frankie a breath and pushed his body up to go get something to clean Ben off, but was surprised when Benny desperately wrapped his arms around Frankie’s body.

“Don’t go, please?”

Frankie managed to lift up enough to look into Ben’s glowing blue eyes in the dark. “I’m just getting a towel, Ben. I’m not going anywhere…”

The worry of Ben’s face subsided just a little. “I just… I don’t want this to be like last time…” Last time, Frankie didn’t talk to Ben for months.

“It won’t, I promise. Can I clean you up?”

Benny acquiesced, and Frankie wriggled on his pants and left the tent, coming back with a damp towel and some of their waters and trail mix. Tender and soft, Frankie wiped his cum out of Benny’s leaking hole and Ben’s cum off the boys stomach, skin exposed by his ridden-up shirt. “Here.” Frankie made sure Benny had some of the trail mix and drank some water, then did the same himself. When Frankie was certain Ben was taken care of, he redressed him, making sure he was nice and warm. “I ain’t gonna leave you this time, Ben. I’m with you, now.”

Just as Benny was about to nod off, exhausted and lulled to sleep by Frankie playing with his hair, they heard Will from the next tent. Santi and your tent, actually. “Fucking FINALLY!”

The 5 of them burst out in laughter, Frankie nuzzling his blushing face in Ben’s firm chest but smiling still. “Oh my fucking god”

Ben called out to his brother. “How much of that shit did you hear?”

Santi spoke now. “All of it.”

Your turn. “It was a very sweet love confession”

Frankie lifted his face. “So you heard all of it.”

“Well, you weren’t exactly quite.”

Turning to Frankie, Ben shrugged. “Well, we weren’t”

Frankie playfully nudged him.

“So yes, we heard you eating his ass.” Santi teased, followed the distinct sound of either you or Will smacking him. “Ow! Hey, All I’m saying is the recent developments are gonna make the next ORGY wayyyyy more interesting.”

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

THEY ARE BAAAAAAAAACCCKK!!!!

Thanks for all your patience!

@kittyofalltrades @bit-dodgy-innit @milkymoon2483 @luciannadraven33 @welcometostayingawake @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @cocodiem @imwaytooobsessedwithpedro @twistedboxy @juneknight @angelbabyyy99 @marshmallow--3 @ahookedheroespureheart @kandik @moonknightly @storyarcscribe @itspdameronthings @lou-la-lou @axshadows @saintbedelia @lucianadraven32 @your-voice-is-mellifluousuous @nana90azevedo @luciferiorbxtch @djarinluvr @aretha170 @mystinky-butt @uglie-hoe @sirenphrynne @sammierae-16 @thismessthatsm @luciannadraven33 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @cocodiem @gogh-with-the-flow @paintlavillered @tiny-raccon @luciferiorbxtch @feltonswifesworld87 @whitearmsredhands @pimosworld @mrscadilllac @i-wanna-be-your-muse @violentdelightsandviolentends @lunar-ghoulie @meveispunk @missdictatorme @itspdameronthings @luciferiorbxtch @lonelyisamyw-0love @poeedameronn @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @luke-o-lophus @the-soulofdevil-reads @thepowerthismanhasoverme @miraclesabound @gogh-with-the-flow @simps-central @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @ssuperficialspacecadett @munson-hargrove-barnes86 @broken-arrow-ambassador @thedreadandthefugitivemind

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sorry if i missed anyone!!!

lmk if you wanna be tagged for the next part!!!

#fishben #benny miller x frankie morales #francisco morales #benjamin miller #benny and frankie #triple frontier #frankie x benny #benjamin miller x francisco morales #triple frontier fanfiction

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