#i keep forgetting to post here but i'm Still barely getting by right now and need all the help i can get

[silverplace-archive]

Commission for @under-art-reblogs of their sona with @vex-bittys Chain and King lamias 💕 This was so much fun to draw! Thank you again ✨

Commission me!

[pedroscurls]

in every lifetime (pt. 2)

summary: you and logan try to steer clear of each other, the scars running so deep that certain memories of the past occur. pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader word count: 3.5k tags / warnings: angst - post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), flashbacks from both reader's world and worst!logan's universe (in italics), no use of y/n. a/n: i'm so so surprised at how well the first part was received and i just want to thank everyone who's read it!!! i'm a sucker for angst and i'm so excited to make this into a longer series. in each part, there's gonna be a song that basically sums up the feels for the chapter. song: wherever you will go by the calling prev. part - next part.

“I’m not him.”

His words repeat in your mind like it’s some kind of mantra, trying to convince you that the Logan you saw a week ago wasn’t the same Logan you lost all those years ago. 

But he was right there, so close and yet so far. The subtle touches that night only reminded you of the man you lost. Even after all this time, he still had such a strong hold on your heart. 

But this Logan wasn’t yours and he made that very clear. It felt like the world was laughing in your face, taunting you by having the love of your life resurrected in a version that wanted nothing to do with you. You weren’t naive, you knew that this person wasn’t the same man you had fallen in love with, but your soul yearned for him and you knew he felt it too. 

You never truly recovered from losing your Logan. Instead, you had just forced yourself to get up day in and day out for Laura because you knew that’s what Logan would have wanted you to do. As the years passed, you became numb to the loss of him. You tried not to think about him, tried not to reminisce of the moments you shared with each other, but there had been times throughout the years where something reminded you of him. 

And every time, it crippled you. Took hold of every inch of your being until all you could think about was Logan and it broke your heart all over again. 

But seeing him caused your entire world to stop, serving as a reminder of the gaping hole that your Logan left in your heart. 

While you tried to forget your Logan, to just continue living your life until it was your turn to go, seeing a different version of him just brought back all of the memories you tried so hard to erase. You wanted to forget, wanted these memories of him gone from your mind because it just hurt too much. 

But here he was. A walking reminder of the man you loved. 

The man you lost. 

And the man you will never get back. 

–

“I’m not her.”

Logan couldn’t stop thinking about you since that night he saw you. He tried to tell himself that you weren’t her, to convince himself that you weren’t the same woman he lost.

But having you so close where he could have just reached out and touched you stirred a lot of unresolved emotions that he tried so hard to bury. He knew you weren’t the woman that he had fallen in with – you were just some version of her in this universe and he had to wonder if this was life’s way of punishing him for all of the things he had done in his. 

Logan wanted to push you away and he made it very clear that night that he wasn’t your Logan and that he never would be. He needed to keep you at a distance, but every fiber of his being yearned for you. Since that night, all Logan could hear was your laugh, your voice. All he could see was your smile, your eyes that gazed up at him. 

He tried so hard to snap out of it because you weren’t her.

And when he was alone, when the hope that things could be different finally vanished, all he could see now was the same woman who had died in his arms because of him. All he could hear was your voice, calling out to him to save you, and the last words you told him before you took your last breath. 

He barely slept and drinking only did so much. This universe was supposed to be his second chance at being a better version of himself, but he didn’t know how he could do that when he knew you existed in this world. 

Your mere existence haunted him, causing a lot of conflicting feelings. 

He wanted another chance with you, but how could he do that when he knew that you were better off without him? Safer without him? 

This Logan didn’t belong in this universe, he knew that much. 

But he couldn’t help the hope that he felt within himself (and from you) that maybe this wasn’t life’s way of taunting you both, but rather a second chance to make things right. 

To be happy. 

To have an ending that you both deserve. 

With each other. 

—

“You know, I’d do anything for you,” you tell Logan, who’s lying in bed next to you. What had started as a very casual situationship had turned into something much more serious. 

Logan started spending more and more nights at your place, finding comfort in your presence. You were the calm within the storm, the peace within the chaos. He didn’t know when things changed, when things shifted, but his soul yearned for you. 

“I know you would, bub,” he’d reply. Logan never made his feelings for you known, never made it obvious because if he did, it would make things more complicated than he already made it to be. He often wondered why he found you so late in his life, after everything he had been through, Logan finally had a chance of happiness but he didn’t know how long he had. 

He could feel that his body was much different than before. Could feel the pain of his wounds last longer before it healed itself. 

But you made him feel young again, made him feel like he finally deserved a life that he had seen others live. A chance to be happy. A chance to love. 

“I’m serious, Logan.”

“I know,” he repeats. 

“I think I love you.” you admit. 

Logan sits up in bed abruptly. He can feel his chest tightening with so many emotions: relief, joy, fear. He feels you reach out for him and he just stands up, gathering his clothes and beginning to put them back on without a word.

“Logan–”

“No,” he growls. “No.”

You scramble to your feet, grabbing the sheet from your bed to wrap around your naked frame. With one arm holding it up, you use your other hand to rest on his chest. “Stop running.”

“Ain’t running. We both know exactly what this was, bub,” Logan says, shrugging your hand off of him. “I ain’t good for you, and we both know that.” 

“Don’t you love me too?” you ask, voice quivering as you take a step away from him. “I know who you are, what you are, the things you’ve done and seen… but I love all of you. The good, the bad. All of it.”

Logan pulls on his black slacks and white tank top, glancing over at you. He feels tethered to you, feels like if he walks out of that door that he wouldn’t come back and he’d never fully recover. 

“Of course, I love you,” Logan admits. “But I can’t– We can’t–” he feels his breath hitch in his throat. “I mean it. I ain’t good for you, bub. You deserve someone better than me.”

“I deserve you,” you hesitantly reach out for him, afraid that he’s going to pull away from you again. “There is no one better than you, Logan.” 

“Things don’t ever work out for me,” he whispers, looking down at your hand that moves to take hold of his. “If I lose you, I won’t ever forgive myself.”

“You won’t lose me,” you promise. 

“You don’t know that.” 

“What happens if I lose you? What happens then?” 

Logan shrugs. “You’ll be fine.”

You shake your head in disagreement. “I have never loved anyone as much as I love you,” you tell him honestly. “My heart will always belong to you. In every lifetime. In every universe, I’m yours.” 

Logan gazes at you and can see the tears in your eyes. Your free hand moves to rest gently on his chest, above his beating heart. You look at him in a way that no one ever has, that despite all of the things he has done, you still see the good in him. 

And it was in that moment that Logan promised himself that he would do everything in his power to keep you happy, to make sure you knew how much he loved you. 

“In every lifetime. In every universe,” he repeats, voice quiet as he leans into you…

Suddenly, you awake, gasping for air as you scramble to reach out to the empty space next to you. “Logan…” you call out for him, the sudden realization hitting you straight to your core. Tears begin to roll down your cheeks as you bring your legs up to your chest, beginning to cry into your knees. Your dreams – or rather memories – of Logan occur almost every night since meeting some version of him last week.  

This new Logan had the same exterior as your Logan, haunted by his own memories, by his regrets and failures. But you couldn’t help the fact that while you were yearning and missing your Logan, you also craved this new Logan. 

Was this life’s way of giving you another chance?, you had to wonder. And if it was, would you take it? 

—

It was another morning where Logan was sitting on the couch, a bottle of liquor on the coffee table as he tried so hard to forget you and erase the memories that tied you to him. But even when he closed his eyes, you were all he could see. 

“So, you do like me,” you grin up at him. 

“I tolerate ya,” Logan answers with a smirk. 

“Hm,” you gaze up at him. “I think you more than tolerate me. Just admit it, Logan. You like me.” 

“And so what if I do, bub?” he asks, taking a careful step into your personal space. Logan can hear your heart race begin to beat faster and he smiles to himself. There had always been an instant attraction that he felt towards you when he came to the mansion and found you teaching a literature class to mutants. You had locked eyes with him as he was passing your classroom and flashed him a smile. 

Logan never believed in love at first sight, but you had certainly made an impression on him from that brief glance alone. The more he got to know you and spend time with you, the stronger his feelings for you grew. 

“If you do – which I think you do,” you begin. “Then I’d tell you that I like you too. A lot, actually.” 

Now it was Logan’s turn to feel his heart racing at your admission. When he was around you, Logan felt calmer. And you always looked at him like he was someone worthy of your attention. Logan knew early on that there was a lingering longing for you, a craving that showed him he wanted more of you. 

“That so, sweetheart?” Logan grins, hand gently resting on your cheek. His touch was such a stark contrast from what he was capable of. The same hands that were now touching you had hurt so many other people and yet with you, he was gentle, careful. 

“Yeah, Logan,” you whisper, leaning into his touch. “And I’d very much like it if you could kiss me now.”

“I think you’re trouble,” he mumbles, running the pad of his thumb across your lower lip. “If I kiss you now, that makes you mine.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Logan,” you reply, gently grazing your teeth across the tip of his thumb. 

“I ain’t ever gonna let you go,” Logan admits. “There is no going back if we do this.”

“I know,” you whisper. “Whatever this is, I want it. I want you.”

Logan stares into your eyes, trying to gauge whether or not you were lying. But you never did lie to him. In fact, you were the most honest person he’s ever met. There’s a part of him that’s afraid to give into this because he knows that who he is and what he is is a danger to anyone that’s close to him. 

And yet, he can’t seem to stay away from you. 

“Are you sure?” Logan asks.

“I’ll always be yours, Logan,” you admit honestly. “In every lifetime and in every universe, I’m yours.” 

Logan hears the sound of Althea cursing aloud, which causes his eyes to open as he looks around. It takes him a moment to realize that he’s not in the same universe anymore and there’s a sudden realization when he remembers that you were gone. In his universe, you were dead. 

He pays no attention to Althea, grabbing his liquor bottle and grunting in her direction before he walks down the hallway and into his bedroom. Once the door shuts, Logan sits on the edge of his bed and lies back, staring up at the ceiling as he thinks of you. Thinks of the night he saw you last week. The sound of your voice, the sound of your laughter, the sight of your smile, the gaze in your eyes… 

“In every lifetime and in every universe,” he mumbles to himself. 

—

Later that night, Wade’s having his weekly family dinner again. Logan tries to make an excuse that he’s going to leave for the night, that he doesn’t want to participate or be around anyone, but Wade saw right through it.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Wade asks, setting up the table and making sure to gather chairs around it. “I don’t even know if she’s coming,” he lies.

“Laura will be here.”

“Doesn’t mean that she will be.”

Logan rolls his eyes. “I’d rather not be here if she is.”

“You know, you’d think that seeing the woman you love alive again would get you excited. Instead, you’re running away like you usually do,” Wade says seriously. “You know what happened in your universe wasn’t–”

“Enough,” Logan interrupts. “We don’t talk about my universe anymore, got it?” 

Wade raises his hands in defeat. “Fine, fine. All I’m saying… This is your second chance to be better, Peanut. Why not actually make a life for yourself here?”

“Because I don’t belong here,” Logan answers and then grabs a case of beer from the fridge along with another bottle of whiskey. “I’ll be in my room. I won’t bother you and you don’t bother me. Got it?”

“Sheesh,” Wade says. “Fine, Peanut.” 

Logan grumbles under his breath and then walks into his room, shutting the door behind him and quickly opening a bottle of beer that he downs with ease. 

As the hours pass, Logan tries to tune out the chatter coming from the living room. He doesn’t hear your voice amongst the amount of people in the apartment and while that should provide him some relief, it instead does the opposite. It disappoints him. He wants you nearby, wants to hear your voice, your laugh, smell your scent from miles away. 

Logan wants you here. 

And just as his mind drifts, he hears a knock on his door. 

“Don’t bother me,” he calls out. 

The knocking persists and he lets out a sigh of frustration. Logan stands from the bed and then swings the door open to see Laura standing on the other side of the door. 

“What do you want?”

“For you to talk to her,” she answers, completely unbothered by his attitude. “I think you both can help each other.”

“Yeah, well that ain’t happening, kid. Now, please–” Logan’s about to shut the door when the younger woman’s hand reaches out to stop it from closing. 

“I know she isn’t her and I know you aren’t him, but I also know that you both are thinking the same thing.” 

“Yeah? And what’s that, kid?”

“That this can be a second chance for the both of you.” 

“Ain’t no such thing as second chances,” Logan replies. 

“You saved our world, Logan,” Laura says softly. “You saved her.” 

Logan can feel his chest tightening. “I killed her,” he corrects. “In my universe, I–” he shakes his head, tears stinging his eyes. “Just leave me alone, kid.” 

This time, Laura allows him to close the door. 

—

You’re pacing in front of Wade’s front door, heart beating out of our chest in anticipation that you might see Logan again. This was the first time in the last week that you managed to get yourself out of bed, having called out from work for an entire week. You had thrown on a pair of leggings and ironically, Logan’s flannel. Your Logan’s. 

With a deep breath, you knock on the door and see it swing open. Wade’s on the other side with a large grin, welcoming you inside. 

“You made it,” he grins. 

“I’m only here to pick up Laura,” you correct him. 

“Well, you and the big guy are certainly avoiding each other,” Wade points out. “Why is that?” 

“Wade,” you sigh quietly. “I’m just here to pick up Laura,” you repeat. 

Wade sighs dramatically. “Fine, fine. But between you and me? This seems like a second chance that not a lot of people get.”

You don’t respond and see Laura round the corner. You smile in her direction and pull her into a hug. You can tell that her having another Logan in this universe is also taking a toll on her and you try to tell yourself, to convince yourself, that you need to be better for her. 

“Ready to go?” you ask. 

“Yeah, think so.” 

“Great, I’m just gonna use the bathroom and then we’ll head out.” 

You release her and walk down the hallway to the bathroom. You shut the door behind you and sigh, resting your hands on the edge of the sink as you feel tears threaten to spill over. You know he’s here, know that he’s somewhere close because you can feel his presence. 

Logan had been on high alert the moment you entered the apartment building. His heart rate picks up when he can smell your scent waft through his senses followed by your voice. It isn’t until he hears you enter the bathroom and begin crying that he feels a twist in the pit of his stomach. 

He probably shouldn’t be focusing his hearing on you, especially since it seems like just being here was causing you so much pain, but he couldn’t help himself. This was the closest he can get to you while keeping you at a distance. 

—

After a few minutes, you wipe your eyes and make yourself presentable. You know if Laura sees you crying, she’s going to want to do everything in her power to make you feel better and you don’t want to burden her with your feelings. 

With a deep breath, you step out of the bathroom with your eyes gazed downwards. Suddenly, you bump into someone’s hardened chest and your hands immediately reach out. There’s a sense of familiarity with your touch and when you slowly look up, you see Logan gazing down at you. 

“Logan, I–”

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to move away. He just keeps his eyes locked on yours. Logan keeps his hands at his sides, his fingertips itching to touch you, to feel you. 

You drop your hands back to your side and bite your lower lip in embarrassment. You’re both standing in the hallway, away from the sounds of chatter and laughter. 

“I’m sorry,” you finally say. “I should have watched where I was going.”

Logan just nods, but instead, he takes an inch step towards you. It causes you to take a step back until your back gently touches the wall. He’s crowding your space, gazing into your eyes. Logan knows that he should run, knows that he should keep himself far from you, but he can’t. 

Your souls are tied to each other, bonded in every lifetime. Even if he tried to forget about you, tried to keep himself at arm’s length, Logan knows that it would only hurt you (and him) more. 

Logan’s eyes glisten with unshed tears as he stares into your eyes and just like the version of you in his universe, you’re looking at him like he’s enough, like all you can see is the good in him. And it makes his heart swell, reminds him of the moment he locked eyes with you in his universe for the first time. 

And maybe Wade was right. Maybe this is his second chance at making things right. 

Slowly, his hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Logan feels an electric pull towards you at the soft touch and he knows you felt it too. 

Quietly, Logan whispers, “In every universe and in every lifetime, I’m yours.” 

You feel your breath catch in your throat, remembering the dream you had earlier this morning and those same words you told your Logan when you told him you loved him for the first time. 

Maybe Wade had a point. Maybe this is your second chance. 

[alchemistc]

Y'all were so insistent that I keep going with the Eddie Fixes It By Making It Worse post breakup fic.

This is officially a three-parter. Sorry. Or you're welcome.

You can read part one here

We have to make out in front of Tommy.

Buck's in the ice cream aisle, reminding himself that he has given himself three more days of moping and ignoring his diet before he gets his ass in gear and starts to live a life again. The Halo Top is mocking him, jeering and heckling as he goes for the Blue Ribbon. Mint chocolate, because Buck always loved it and he can almost forget the mock fight he'd had with Tommy three months in when he told Buck he refused to allow toothpaste flavored treats into his home, and how they'd barely gotten back to his place without a public indecency citation.

He stares at the text until his eyes cross.

What, he sends back, and slowly, cautiously, returns the pint of ice cream to its spot in the cooler. Maybe he should lay off the sugar. He's had enough.

Trust me

It comes in almost immediately and Buck tries to rewind, tries to figure out what any of this means, what the context is, why he's getting an actual Trust Me Bro from his best friend.

You've already met your last and it's not me comes crashing back to the forefront of his mind. He's had a full 36 hours to forget it, and he had been nearly there, nearly ready to chalk it up to Tommy trying to make him angry. Which he's been doing a really fucking excellent job of, lately. Almost like he knows all the buttons to push. Like Buck had given him the owners manual.

Tommy had meant Eddie? How could Eddie have possibly come to that conclusion? What the hell was he doing sending Buck half across town to the market for snacks when -

Buck judges the distance from this market to Eddie's. Then to Tommy's.

"Oh you mother -."

A woman squeaks by with her kid in the cart seat and glares.

---

Are you at Tommy's right now

No question marks. This is an accusation. Buck's thankful there are no perishables in his cart as he abandons it in the lane and hikes it towards the door. It's a dick move, and Buck feels, a little spitefully, like if anyone remembers him they'll remember him from the times he and Tommy giggled and play-fought down the aisles, so they'll think of Tommy when they think of the cart left behind. Resent him for it, maybe.

Not like Tommy isn't particularly good at just leaving things behind.

Yeah. Join me.

Buck breaks through the doors and feels a little woozy. This might be a panic attack. His chest fucking hurts.

🖕just get my stuff and meet me at yours. tell Tommy we burned all his shit

Eddie is an asshole. I'm not gonna LIE to the man. Also he definitely doesn't have an Evan box ready to go, so take what you will from that

Buck's still in that vicious cycle where he goes from angry to upset to sad in record time, no barriers in between, where every bruise feels like it's healing too fast so he keeps pressing in just to watch the color muddle. He hates this.

It'd be a Buck box, Buck texts back, just to release some of the pressure behind his temples, and he pulls in a few deep breaths before he jogs for the Jeep. He's gonna go home. Throw on the DVD copy of Sleepless In Seattle Tommy left behind and then maybe once that's done he'll throw the damn thing in a blender.

Are you coming or not?

Buck turns the ignition and peels out in a direction that won't lead to his own home, or the things Buck has been too much of a mopey bastard to pack up and return to their owner. At a red light two miles down the road, he shares his location.

Eddie sends back an ominous Hope you brushed your teeth today.

---

Eddie gets the door and it sucks just as much as if Tommy had. They barely ever spent time at Tommy's, and Buck can see it now for the boundary it was. When they had, though, their time had been split pretty evenly between Buck picking him up for a date, and Eddie wanting to leave the quiet echo of his own house to hang with them - a car on a lift and beers shared between them, Buck watching the pull of muscle beneath Tommy's shorts as he took Eddie down to the mat, Tommy's fingers drifting through the short curls at the back of Bucks head while Eddie yelled about triple-doubles and chatted with Tommy about how impossible coverage was for some guy named Joker.

Buck has never actually figured out who that guy was. Eddie hated the Mavericks and he hated the Lakers but Eddie also complained about the guy so much he definitely wasn't a Clipper.

Eddie gets him by the forearm when Buck shows clear signs of regretting this. Drags him through the front door before Buck can fully execute his spin and stomp back to the Jeep.

Tommy's next door neighbor had waved at him from her yard where she was doing something new with her display of bird sculptures, and Buck hadn't had the heart to do anything but raise his hand back.

It's less than ten seconds before Eddie is steering him down the hall, into the living room. It's cozy in here. Lived in. Mismatched furniture that somehow fits, a blanket thrown over the side of the couch, dark wood tables and light wood flooring and lamps that look like they came from an estate sale up in the Hills. A huge ass TV set above the mantle of a gas fireplace that Buck never even had the opportunity to see working before... Before.

Tommy is a shadow coming out of the kitchen, and Buck can't help but be a little pleased that he looks as crappy as Buck feels.

---

Eddie claps his hands together before either of them can get a word in. "Okay. Here's the thing. You're both dumbasses and there's a lot of shit that you guys gotta figure out on your own. But apparently you," he points at Tommy with the lip of a beer bottle. Corona. Tommy hates the stuff, and Buck is reminded once again how dearly Eddie loves him, "need empirical evidence that there's no deeply repressed sexual tension between Buck and I. So."

"You're insane," Tommy says, and Buck feels like snapping at him. He's probably right. This is an insane thing to do. Eddie ambushed his ex and then ambushed Buck in the frozen treats aisle and now he wants to kiss Buck to prove a point? What??

Eddie ignores it. Turns to Buck. "How do you wanna do this?"

And now would be the time, actually. Now would be the time to cut the thread, make it clean, break it for good. Only despite his protest, Tommy is staring between them and his expression looks almost... hungry. Frightened, at the same time. Oh. Oh.

He really had thought...?

Eddie's a fucking idiot. Buck doesn't want to kiss him. He's squared with the fact that he definitely had a crush when they first met and he's definitely been attracted to Eddie and just not realized it but he doesn't want Eddie. He doesn't want a life with Eddie, not like that. He doesn't- He isn't -

He loves Eddie more than almost every other person on the planet, but he's not in love with him.

Buck squares his shoulders. Nods. "Yeah, okay," and then he's taking three strides to meet Eddie at the coffee table.

---

"Oh come on, are you serious?"

Buck ignores the exclamation from the peanut gallery. Tries to figure out where to put his hands. He's never really noticed the height difference before. It's barely anything - a couple inches at most - but it feels like he's looming, this close. Which is stupid. He's been this close to Eddie a million times.

Eddie bends his knees to set the beer down. Darts his gaze back up to Buck.

Buck's seen him pull this move before, and has to bite down the urge to cackle because those big brown cow eyes have charmed women up and down California and probably plenty of Texas too but the only time Buck's ever seen them look genuine was when he was looking at Shannon.

He's got a good face. Angular in all the right places, expressive in a way a lot of men try to hide. Good eyelashes, clear skin.

Eddie gets a thumb in one of Buck's belt loops and tugs.

It's a good move. It's a move that has inspired Buck to sink to his knees on more than one occasion with the right men. Man. Just the one man.

He desperately bites back a giggle when the front of their thighs brush and Buck feels nothing more than the heat coming off Eddie.

Eddie's flushed, just a little, like he's well aware how ridiculous this all is, but he's got his I'm So Fucking Serious face on and there is a part of Buck, something fucked up and broken and wrong, that wonders how Tommy would feel to see it. To know that Buck is out there in the world kissing people who aren't Tommy. It's not like he'd ended things because he didn't care for Buck, because he wasn't attracted to him. It's gotta sting, right?

Buck gets a hand on Eddie's waist, just above his hip bone. He's never actually paid attention to how much more slim Eddie is, before, how big Buck's hands feel against him.

The night Tommy had first kissed him, Buck had spent an indeterminate length of time replaying every second of the interaction. The lead up, the frank honesty, the way Buck's entire body had followed the flow of Tommy's. Heart racing, body thrumming: when Tommy had ducked his head, when he'd laughed, when he'd opened up his body language and dropped a tiny morsel of his heart, Buck had felt himself drawn in.

The lips that had caught his had set him alight.

Eddie shifts his weight and blinks up at him and for half a second Buck wants this to be a good kiss - earth shattering, life changing. He wants to feel it. Wants it to be better than every kiss he and Tommy ever shared.

The pointer and middle finger he uses to tilt Eddie's chin up are petty as hell.

[unclewaynemunson]

Alt version of this post bc too many people asked for both <3

It's Saturday night and, like almost every Saturday night, Eddie wishes he didn't have to be at some jock party. The flashing lights, the scent of cheap mixed drinks, the incredibly mediocre loud music... And worst of all, the fucking jocks. Everywhere.

'Eddie!'

He looks up to find Steve, with a dopey smile on his face, basically skipping towards him and throwing his arms around his neck. Oh. He didn't know Steve still went to parties like those. Hadn't seen him at any of them in a while. But as soon as he gets wrapped up in an enthusiastic full-body hug, he decides there's one jock, and one jock only, that he doesn't mind running into at those parties.

'Eddie, what're you doin' here?' There's an unfocused look in his eyes and he wobbles on his legs a little bit, grabbing tighter onto Eddie for support. The touch burns through Eddie's t-shirt and he tries to ignore the shiver running down his spine.

'I didn't know you liked parties!' Steve drops his voice, slurring: 'I thought you hated the jocks.'

Eddie can't help but smile. 'I hate all jocks but one, big boy,' he tells Steve. 'Not here to party, only to get some cash.' He rattles with the metal lunchbox in his hands to illustrate his point. 'Can you let me go now so I can get on with my business, pretty please?'

'Noooo,' Steve says with an exaggerated pout. 'I'm too happy you're here! Dance with me!'

Eddie chuckles. 'I don't think you're in any state to dance right now. Jesus, Stevie, I don't think I've ever seen you this wasted before. Thought you were planning to pick up a girl tonight?'

'I was,' Steve says, suddenly sounding oddly serious. 'But it doesn't matter. Just needed to forget. The rum helped, too.' He frowns. 'Til you showed up.'

'Forget what?' Eddie asks, trying to make sense of this drunken string of words.

Something happens; something that's been happening quite often lately. Steve's eyes flash downwards, just for a second, right to where Eddie's lips are.

Eddie's heartbeat involuntarily picks up speed.

'What did you need to forget, Steve?' Eddie asks again.

'Can't tell you,' Steve mumbles so softly that Eddie can barely make it out over the loud music. 'I don't wanna make you feel guilty. I'm not judging you, y'know. 'S fine.'

He abruptly lets go of Eddie and takes a step away from him, stumbling right into some girl who pushes him back with an annoyed scoff; if Eddie weren't still standing right behind him, he would've fallen on his ass for sure.

'Alright, you're not making any sense tonight, big boy, but I can't in good conscience let you stay here by yourself. How 'bout I'll drive you home?'

Eddie glances at his watch. If he hurries, he can probably still be back to do what he came here for before the good part of the party is over. He does kinda need the cash.

'Can't,' says Steve. 'Can't go home with you.' Something in his voice is breaking and suddenly there are tears in his eyes, and Eddie still doesn't understand what's wrong; he feels like he's overlooking something huge, something that should be obvious.

'Let's just go outside to talk, then?' he suggests.

'Can't. Dance with me, Eddie.'

But when Eddie starts gently tugging Steve towards the open door leading to the garden, Steve easily lets himself be led outside. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath when the cool night air reaches his lungs, as if one gulp of fresh air will instantly make him sober up. But he's still swaying on his feet, making Eddie grab onto him tighter.

Eddie likes to think of himself as moderately strong, but unfortunately, hauling 180 pounds of muscled jock around is starting to take its toll on him. He spots a bench in a secluded corner of the garden and guides Steve towards it.

'This better?' he asks.

'Yeah,' Steve breathes out. Even now that they're both sitting down, Steve keeps clinging onto him. 'Look at the stars, Eddie.'

Eddie looks up at the scattering of lights twinkling far above them - but he can feel Steve's eyes still burning into his face.

When he directs his gaze back to the guy sitting next to him, Steve's face is even closer than before. The starlight is reflected in his hazy eyes, tiny specks of silver hidden in various shades of brown and black.

'I wish I could kiss you,' Steve whispers, looking at Eddie with nothing but admiration behind that glassy drunk gaze.

Eddie almost forgets to breathe. He knows that it seemed like he and Steve were headed exactly toward something like this for a while now, but he still can hardly believe that it is real. That Steve Harrington is really looking at him like he's just as precious as the stars in the sky above them.

He brings up a hand, gently caresses Steve's soft cheek.

'Maybe you don't have to wish,' he whispers back, unable to stop his eyes from flashing towards Steve's beautiful lips for a moment. 'Tomorrow. When you're not drunk anymore. If you still remember this.'

'No.' Steve shakes his head, so fiercely it makes his hair flap in all directions and his complexion at least two shades paler. 'Can't.'

'Why do you keep saying that, Steve?' Eddie asks softly.

'Cause.' For a moment Eddie thinks Steve is gonna grab his ass, but then... he randomly frees Eddie's handkerchief – the one with the skulls – from his back pocket.

'Cause of the Russians.'

Eddie can only stare at him in confusion.

'They tied me up,' Steve all but whispers. Eddie hates how small and broken his voice suddenly sounds.

He has always known – broadly speaking – about what happened to Steve and Robin miles beneath Starcourt last year. He's never actually heard Steve talk about the details, though. All he knows is that he and Robin were captured by Russian spies and somehow made it out alive. He could always see how difficult it was for Steve to talk about it whenever it came up, but he never wanted to pry. And now here they are, at some goddamn high school jock party of all places, and all of a sudden Steve willingly brings it up.

'I was with Robin,' Steve continues, still in that scared and broken voice. 'And they tied us to a chair. We couldn't move. And they – they hurt me. They hit me. 'Til I was bleeding all over. I thought I was gonna die. Robin thought I was dead.'

'Jesus Christ, Steve,' Eddie breathes out, tightening his grip around Steve's torso.

'So I can't,' Steve mumbles, holding up Eddie's handkerchief as if it's some kind of logical explanation for whatever it is he's trying to tell Eddie.

'Wh- What?'

'I know what it means, Eddie,' he says, as if he's even remotely making sense right now. 'You know John?'

'Who the hell is John?' Eddie only keeps finding himself more and more lost in this conversation.

'My cousin,' Steve says, like it's obvious, like he's ever talked about some cousin named John to Eddie before. 'The one in New York. He knows all about that shit, right? He sends me the good magazines sometimes when my parents aren't home. That's how I know.'

'Know what?'

Steve only waves around with that stupid handkerchief again.

'You're flagging, aren't ya? You like pain. Like BS... BM...'

Eddie feels his jaw drop.

'What the fuck are you talking about?' he asks. 'It's – this is a metal thing. It looks metal. I literally have no idea what you're – flagging?'

Now Steve's face finally mirrors the confusion Eddie has been feeling for the past ten minutes.

'Are you serious?' he asks, for one second showing more clarity in his eyes than Eddie has seen all evening.

Eddie nods.

'So it's not...' Steve stops himself, swallows, frowns. 'You're not into, like, hurting people and shit?'

And finally, it all clicks together in Eddie's mind: the repeated chorus of I can't, the story about the Russians, the goddamn handkerchief... Flagging. BDSM.

'Why the hell would I get off on hurting you, Steve?' is all he can get out of his mouth.

And Steve honest-to-Satan starts giggling; it sounds so relieved that Eddie kinda feels like giggling too, scary metal image be damned.

'I dunno, it's more common than you think,' Steve mumbles. 'I wouldn't judge you, alright? But I knew I could never give you that. No matter how much I like you. And then you'd get bored of me.'

'Oh, Steve,' Eddie whispers out. 'You don't need to worry 'bout that, I swear. For all I care, we can have the most vanilla sex in the world forever. Or never have sex at all. As long as it's with you... I'm good.' Eddie cringes as soon as the words leave his mouth: it sounds too cheesy, too sincere. He kinda hopes Steve will have forgotten this particular part of their conversation tomorrow morning.

But Steve doesn't look at him like he thinks it's stupid at all: his eyes are wide and he's smiling a soft smile.

'You sure? You won't get bored?'

Eddie chuckles. Now that he's being too goddamn cheesy anyway, he might as well double down on it. 'I can't imagine getting bored of getting to hold this body in a million fucking years. In any way you'll have me.'

Steve heaves out a relieved sigh before he buries his head against Eddie's chest.

'Can I bring you home, now?' Eddie asks.

There's a twinkle in Steve's eyes when he lifts his head again.

'Ooohhh... You wanna have the most vanilla sex in the world with me now?'

A chortle escapes Eddie's lungs.

'Um, maybe tomorrow, when you're not drunk off your ass,' he answers with a wink. 'For tonight, just lemme get you to bed, 'kay?'

'Okay, big boy,' Steve answers, and Eddie can't help but laugh before he presses a kiss against Steve's forehead.

[bokutosbabe]

Is your top artist/song thing still open? Because if it still is, my top song is GUILTY by TAEMIN. Hehehe!

(also found out abt this bc you reblogged a post of mine teehee!! Thought it was interesting so I wanna give it a go!!)

it is still open! and omg!! that's so cool!

if your top song was GUILTY by TAEMIN i'd pair you with...

sae itoshi

જ⁀♡⊹｡° wanna take a bite

♡ a/n — for my spotify wrapped event

♡ content — sae itoshi x gn! reader, gn! reader, lowkey probably ooc sae, manipulative(?) sae, reader and sae have CRAZY tension, implied situationship

♡ synopsis — sae itoshi is a calm man, but when he doesn't get what he wants, that can change.

There was something terrifying about Sae Itoshi, and it wasn’t his skill on the pitch.

It was the way he looked at you—sharp, unrelenting, and just a little bit cruel. Like he knew you didn’t belong here, standing in his orbit, but he didn’t care.

You’d promised yourself you wouldn’t get involved with him, not when you’d heard the stories of what he was like: cold, calculating, impossible to read. Sae Itoshi didn’t need anyone, and he made that abundantly clear to everyone around him.

So why was he here now, leaning against the doorframe of your apartment like he owned the place?

“You’ve been ignoring me,” he said, his voice low, almost bored. But his eyes—they betrayed him. They burned with something too dangerous to name.

It'd been a week since you'd last seen Sae anywhere outside of the soccer field. A week since you'd told yourself you weren't going to be his plaything, something he could have whenever he wanted.

“Maybe you should take the hint,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

He smirked, a slow, infuriating curve of his lips that made your chest tighten. “You’re bad at lying.”

You crossed your arms, refusing to let him get the upper hand. “And you’re bad at leaving people alone.”

He pushed off the doorframe, stepping closer. His presence was overwhelming, like a storm rolling in. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, as he closed the distance between you.

“You think I don’t know what I’m doing to you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your stomach twisted, the guilt bubbling up like bile. You hated the way he got under your skin, the way he made you feel alive and hollow at the same time. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to happen.

“This is wrong, Sae,” you said, but your voice wavered.

“Maybe,” he admitted, tilting his head as his eyes searched yours. “But you don’t really want me to stop, do you?”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you hated him. You hated how easily he unraveled you, how he turned every one of your carefully constructed walls to rubble with just a glance.

But he was right. You didn’t want him to stop.

And that was the worst part.

When he leaned in, close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath, you knew you were past the point of no return. His presence consumed you, leaving no room for anything else, and for a moment, you let yourself forget the guilt clawing at your chest.

Because Sae Itoshi was a mistake you were willing to make.

i really have a bad habit of making sae ooc i'm sorry

i hope you like it anyways!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[pomegranatears]

᭄ꦿ gender neutral, mommy kink, pet play & edging

— I didn't proofread, I was just having fun writing my silly thoughts ᡣ𐭩

Just before they leave after an entire weekend with me, I hold their wrist to stop them. The confused stare flashing across their eyes is so sweet when I slip a small envelope inside their pocket. Be a good puppy and only open it when you get home.

A soft whimper after I pretend I’m going to kiss their lips - but kiss their chin instead - would almost make me drag them back inside. I can barely resist when they behave so needy near me.

But I can’t wait for them to see what’s inside. They have to go.

It’s a bit heavy, and their curiosity sparks the moment they are told they’re not supposed to open it. Their need to obey overcomes it, though. The way I whispered how good they were for me over the weekend is etched in their mind, a memory to visit the next time I’m not with them and they need to take care of the ache between their legs.

And I adore them so much that there’s something inside that envelope that will help!!

The first thing they notice is the polaroid, a picture of my tits that I told them to take. It’s embarrassing how it immediately elicits a reaction, they are my desperate perfect slut and I love it. It’s so good to know I have them wrapped around my fingers like that.

The second thing is a letter, sprayed with my favorite perfume. They recognize it immediately; it’s been wrapped around them for the past two days and still lingers on their shirt from our last hug.

The paper is a handwritten piece of everything I still want to do with them, by the end they are a leaky mess, staining their underwear, and chewing their bottom lip.

In the last line I tell them to make a video call to me, which they are more than eager to do. However, before they do it, they remember the weight of the envelope and soon enough they find a small pendant with my initials engraved.

They immediately know where that's supposed to go, their collar.

I don’t think they would ever forget they belong to me but they look so beautiful with me all over them, bite and lipstick marks included. Not to mention their glistening chin after they are done pleasuring mommy.

They call me and I ask them if they liked the surprise. I don’t quite believe their words when they say yes, they’ll need to show me just how much.

Take off your clothes for me, love. And don't forget to put on your collar.

You are so beautiful, I shouldn’t have let you leave so soon.

Do you still remember how it felt when mommy stood behind you and held you against my chest while my fingers were working to turn you into a whimpering, quivering slut?

I want you to do the same now, let me see you and hear those pretty sounds again. What was it? It feels better when I do it?

I know, baby, but just staring at you feels so good. Keep touching yourself for me.

The pendant hanging from the collar makes small noises every time they buck their hips against their own hand, and I continue cooing praises and telling my darling toy how gorgeous they look all needy for me.

I’m not even there and you are whining urgent “please, please, please”; it’s charmingly pathetic.

Oh, you’ve been such a good puppy! Here, let me show you how wet this little display made mommy.

Wait, wait. Stop.

Their breath hitching and eyes widening only makes me giggle. It’s been lovely, sweetheart, but mommy wants you to stop. Move that hand away. That’s right.

They're a mess, desperate to cum, and still listen to me. Reluctantly, they do exactly what I asked while I watch the rise and fall of their chest, their skin glowing with a thin layer of sweat, and their red bottom lip from how much they bit it trying to be quiet.

What a sight.

Mommy's so proud of my dear puppy. There's no reason to look at me like that, baby. I'm on my way to finish what I started (I'm obsessed with them)

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Long post to say that my period affects my mood so I won't be replying so fast and probably won't be very active ᥫ᭡

[harsh-lites]

backshots here

(aka horny after stream shenanigans between damien and f!reader)

meme made by @haasmaxxing

an 18+ damien au headcanon made with all the naughty ideas my twitter chat group and i shared inspired by that one time damien said “backshot” unprompted during his recent Sunday stream 😀

i can't believe had enough spare time to do all of this 😭 enjoy, i guess

(full hc under the cut!)

“backhand blades, backshot blades. s-sorry. we can all forget that that happened”

although damien shyly told his twitch stream audience to forget whatever he said as he was picking the weapons for his elden ring character to use, he knows they’ll certainly never forget the events that transpired a little after the stream a few days prior.

after last thursday’s stream had ended, damien got to relax a bit from the interaction. this was when he would usually set down his equipment - he'd turn off the camera, give the harsh lights a break, and take down the green screen to keep for another stream.

as he unrolled the green screen, he found you waiting at the doorway to his surprise.

you asked him how he was feeling now that the stream is over. "feeling a bit fatigued," he replied, "but i'm curious to see what you've been up to!"

(gentle reminder btw that this is set in an au where damien didnt end up sick with covid post con shhhhhhh)

that's funny, you thought. "i'm glad you said that, because i do have a proposition."

"okay... i'm all ears."

"there's not a lot to do on a sunday, right?"

"this sunday? no, not really. why"

"i've been thinking about having some of the free time today to ourselves."

eventually, damien detected hints of teasing and playfulness in your tone. "yeah, sounds like a great idea." a smirk forms across his lips, and that lit up the flame inside you.

that flame in you somehow increased in intensity as he leaned to touch the bare skin that hasnt been covered by your oversized shirt - you have yet to tell him that you weren't wearing anything else underneath.

"so, what's your plan?" he whisperes into your ear

"we could start here, perhaps," you answered. the tension between you and damien is so sharp, it could cut a big block of paper clean.

"my streaming room?" damien chuckled lightly. "well, if we were to start here, i can lend you my gamer chair."

"sounds like a great plan to me."

you two got closer and closer, until his lips reach yours. gentle kisses turn into passionate open-mouth clashes, and the rest is history.

that's where you both ended up - hot, steamy sex in the place where your boyfriend freely interacts with much of the outside world.

the thought of you getting railed in damien's stream room was that of pure naughtiness. although it wouldn't fly in reality, you got more turned on by the potential that anyone out there could be hearing the whimpers of profanities, titles, and damien's name, as a way to show them that you're his and his alone. and you were certain as hell that he's sharing the same sentiment.

but, little did you two know that his stream hasn't actually, fully turned off yet. YIKES.

luckily, the camera was already off by then, but somehow, unbeknownst to his twitch moderators, an error unknowingly happened while they were trying to close. it caused the audio to still be on - and, consequently, the chat feature.

in other words, while you and damien were moaning and panting through each rough fuck, some of the audience that hadn’t left yet were bewildered by what they were hearing in real time.

others even left comments as his chat was also on! the reactions range from “ayo 💀💀💀” to “WHATS WITH ALL THE MOANING”

damien, however, seems to not give a care, even as the chat (and eventually his discord) was blowing up. his focus here and now was you and the way you wrapped so tight and nicely on his cock.

he enjoyed in particular how you were taking his sharp yet languid thrusts so well - you got your legs spread and your back pressed well into the chair, greedy cunt welcoming him and begging to be fucked until you couldn't take it.

he’s holding on to the chair for dear life as he pounds into you, but the more rough the fucks get, the more difficult it was to keep you still.

despite the obstacle, you were enjoying the feel of him so much that you wouldn’t mind anything that may come in your way. you’ve craved for his cock for long now, and you were glad now that the craving came true.

damien was floored by the euphoric look of your face, no matter how rough his poundings could get. that's just one of many reasons why he loves you.

midway, he asked how you were feeling so far. your response: “i’ve never felt so much better; fuck you feel so fucking good; need you like this until i cum, until you cum” - basically a litany of praises out your mouth that have a twinge of horny.

meanwhile over at the chat, the audience was practically in shambles after what they heard from you. one of the mods took wind of what was happening at the moment, so in panic they immediately reached out to their fellow mods to help fix this whole issue.

on the chair, damien leaned you in on a kiss, which quickly evolved into sloppy frenching, teeth clashing, tongues dancing and open mouths slotting into each other.

as he pulled from such an intense kiss, he saw that the position both of you were in was making the chair pull a bit further from where you originally were.

he suggested another position where both of you can stay still even with all the intense movement. as agreed upon, you come down and lie your head on the seat cushion while your ass is up. he followed by kneeling behind you shortly thereafter.

he teased your now wet entrance with his cock, swollen head sliding up along your folds and to your throbbing clit, which gets sensitive everytime the tip touches it.

you illicit a whiny moan, and from there you were begging him to play with your pussy, even while he’s buried deep inside.

damien obliged, setting out to do exactly what you were hoping for. his dick fits into you like a glove, and one of his hands snakes its way into your clit and folds.

you instantly fold the moment you feel the pads of his fingers, every touch making you melt like putty.

as you two were enjoying the new position, the mods were frenzied in trying to mute damien's mic feed, but ran through a deluge of errors! ultimately, they had no choice but to wait for him until whatever freak shit he was doing was over and done.

your hands hold tight onto the sides of the chair as his cock drags so swiftly within your walls, hitting the most sensitive spots that are guaranteed to make you cum faster.

the noises coming from both your mouths get increasingly louder upon each thrust, and it would reach the loudest the moment you feel like cumming onto his cock - fuck if the chat cares, anyway.

when you do cum, you feel your walls tighten, and that’s enough for damien to lose control and reach his tipping point.

keeping up with the momentum, he haphazardly pulls out of you and fists his now throbbing cock until dribblets of his cum spurt out from the tip to your ass and back.

the position you were in may not look as ideal, but God, the backshot imagery here looked as astounding as ever.

the drippings have even reached within your ass cheeks - the view of your rim like this is in and of itself a much naughtier sight.

as you both wind down from the high, damien stood up to his stream deck to a shocking revelation.

a barrage of concerned chatters and clever coop members reacted to all the strange, unhinged noises coming from his mic during the stream, which he thought should have ended already almost 30 minutes ago.

he was also sent a stern warning note from his mod group, stating that they ran into a lot of errors in trying to mute his mic, but it was ultimately up to him to turn it off... at this rate, he definitely had a lot to explain. whoops!

glitches aside, he was too light headed to deal with all of this. he went to turn the mic and chat feed off. then, he turned to ask ask if you were up for another go - "but in the bedroom, please i can't deal with so much embarrassment - it's k!lling me!"

without a doubt you said yes, and with his sheer strength he lifted you there. in damien's point of view, sex in a private bedroom is a million times much safer and less prone to unwanted visitors.

the fun certainly didnt stop as soon as you reach the bedroom, though. now with all thr pressure of the concerned clever coop out of his way, damien now got to have you all by himself - he eats you out while you savor the feeling of his thick fingers thrusting in and out of you.

at least here, he’s satisfied that the loud, incriminating moans you made are contained within these four walls. fuck if the chat cares! it’s just him and you against the world.

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

it’s been a while since the incident during his last stream. with the help of his mods, damien has become strict on banning anyone within the clever coop or outside who may clip the moment.

he also collaborated with the mods to edit all of the leaked audio out - that way, he hopes, nobody can see let alone hear how you and damien have been to each other.

even while he tries his damndest to erase any evidence of his one big oopsie, he sure knows he’s getting teased by everyone who’s aware of the incident - his friends included.

(one of his friends, who works in the sex industry, suggested he try out recording audio porn or set up an onlyfans page filled with audio porn content)

(damien kindly declines, but given the curious buzz that incident had created, plus the profit that comes with nsfw content in general, he thought it wouldn’t be much of a bad idea after all)

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 17th: Oct 17th: Tolkien | Ramble On - Led Zeppelin | Intelligent a/n: hospital setting, painkillers, post-canon fix-it, eddie & nancy friendship, steddie. un-betaed because I'm challenging myself to write these in under an hour. read on ao3 + masterpost | tumblr masterlist

today's prompt is a lost scene from day 6's prompt, crush:

Nancy figured it out when Eddie was in the hospital, still a little loopy from painkillers and who knows what else.  You were on another planet and couldn’t stop talking about his chest hair, Eddie.

Nancy Wheeler sits in the little white chair next to Eddie Munson’s hospital bed, the rhythmic beeping of his heart monitor the only noise keeping her company. Well, that, and the sound of her own voice, softly reading The Fellowship of the Ring while Eddie dozes. 

They’ve taken turns, the older teens and a few of the kids, oscillating back and forth between Max’s room and Eddie’s room to ensure no one is left alone for too long while Wayne and Susan are at work. Hospital bills aren’t cheap and while the government will most likely reimburse them for their troubles, right now, things are tight. 

It’s Nancy’s turn in Eddie’s room tonight, picking up where Wayne’s left off in Eddie’s favorite book. Worn and well-read, the book’s loose spine allows Nancy to let it rest on her thigh as she flips through the pages: 

“But long ago he rode away, and where he dwelleth none can say; for into darkness fell his star, in Mordor where the shadows are," Nancy reads, glancing up when she sees Eddie begin to squirm. 

“Mordor,” Eddie murmurs, his voice slurring a bit from the painkillers. “You know, Led Zeppelin wrote a song with Mordor in it.” 

“Oh, did they?” She’s seen him like this a few times now, barely present but speaking in a stream of consciousness. Sometimes, it’s about Dungeons and Dragons. Sometimes, it’s about music, or books– his underappreciated intelligence shines through even the strongest of IV drugs. 

And sometimes, it’s about Steve. That one had been a surprise at first, but keeps all of his ramblings secret, unsure of what he’s telling the others. It’s best to simply indulge him, she’s learned. He never remembers anyways. 

“Mhm,” he cracks open one eye and grins before he starts to sing. “In the darkest depths of Mordor, I met a girl so fair.”

Before she can respond, Eddie continues in his drug-addled haze. “In the darkest depths of Mordor, I met Steve. Sweet, sweet Steve. Steve and his chest hair. Ever notice how hairy he is?” 

Nancy shakes her head and purses her lips, bemused. “I did, yeah, I was there, remember?” 

“Nope,” Eddie says with a pop. “But I do remember that jungle he calls a chest.” 

She snorts back a laugh and tries to subtly hide it behind her hand. Eddie doesn't notice, simply stares through half-lidded eyes and falls back against the pillows. 

“But Gollum and the evil one crept up and slipped away with her-er, her-er,” he continues to sing and wax poetic. 

Eddie’s heart monitor begins to speed up. “Where is Steve, actually? Is he okay?” 

Nancy smiles, fond and knowing, and places a hand on top of his. “He’s fine, he’ll be here later.” 

Sometimes, Eddie forgets how much time has passed from that awful day in Forest Hills, that Steve’s healed up and visits three times a week. That sometimes, Steve visits outside of their established rotation, just because. She never begrudges having to remind him though. How could she when she gets to see the relief drip from his face when he hears again that Steve’s okay? 

Eddie lays back again, the measured beats of his heart monitor returning to a comfortable, predictable tempo. Nancy picks the book back up and continues to read until she sees the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath the white sheets. 

“Hey,” a familiar voice whispers from the doorway. Nancy turns to see Steve standing there, leaning against the frame. “How’s he holdin’ up?” 

“Hey,” she smiles. “He was a little out of it earlier from the medication, but he’s been asleep for a few minutes now. I’ve just been reading to him, if you wanna pick up where I left off.” 

Nancy closes the book with the ribbon inside to hold the page and stands, clearing the chair for Steve. “He’s all yours.” 

As the steel door closes behind her, she hears Steve’s voice begin reading. 

‘Is there no escape then?’ said Frodo, looking round wildly. ‘If I move I shall be seen and hunted! If I stay, I shall draw them to me!’

Strider laid his hand on his shoulder. ‘There is still hope,’ he said. ‘You are not alone.’

[reaperlight]

Secrets Laid Bare (Part 1)

[More post Venom 3 with the murder fam Au]

[Tw: suicide mention]

[Eddie rotting depressed in bed.]

Frances: [Meditating and levitating at the foot of the bed.]

Eddie: Woah... like, what are you doing?

Frances: Well, since you asked I've been working on getting better control of my powers.

Eddie: You're being uh... awfully quiet for that... [Glancing at her levitating again] I didn't know you could fly?

Frances [smirking]: Oh, that's not the only trick up my sleeve. I've found a quirk of my psionic powers is that they respond best to mental anguish. And right now, Brockilicious, you are a feast.

Eddie: Well... I'm glad that you can get off on my suffering, I guess.

Frances: Not "get off," you're my battery. By being near you you're giving me a power boost so I can search further.

Eddie: Search further?

Frances: So I can find what they took from you.

Eddie: Oh! Can you... can you really?

Frances: Yes. Now, please let me concentrate.

Eddie: ...Do I need to think sad thoughts or something?

Frances: That would be helpful, yes.

Cletus [clearly jealous]: ...you used to do that with me.

Frances: Because you were in constent torment all the time, darling. Since we met again...It isn't as potent. I think your new powers are dampening it.

Cletus: So what do I need to do?

Frances: You don't have to do anything. I've got all that I need for this right here.

Cletus: But--

Frances: Baby, it's a good thing that you're getting better. I am feeding off of Eddie's anguish because he's depressed to the point of being suicidal. I do not want you harming yourself.

Cletus: ...but, do you still like me?

Frances [exasperated]: ...Cletus, I married you.

Cletus: But do you like, like me?

Frances: Baby...

Cletus: My angel, I know... Ever since... ever since my execution. There's been this dark, dangerous side of me I can't control and... [lost] I've never felt so out of control. I'm afraid I'll hurt you. I did hurt you.

Frances: And I forgive you. Did you forget who you're talking to? I know. I understand we can't control what forms our mutations take--

Eddie: Woah, woah, woah. Wait what? [to Cletus] You didn't tell her?

Frances [confused]: Tell me what?

Cletus [just as confused]: ...tell her what, Eddie?

Eddie: You didn't tell her about Carnage?

Cletus [annoyed]: Yes, Eddie of course she knows about Carnage. What the hell kind of question is that? You've seen me with her with Carnage. That's one of the first things I did when I found her again. I don't keep secrets from my wife.

Eddie [pinching the bridge of his nose]: Okay, okay just... back up here. What do you think Carnage is?

Cletus: Huh?

Eddie: Go on, take a wild guess.

Cletus: [*clearly put off-balance by the question*] ...I don't know Eddie. I'm not a scientist. I, we... Frances and I, we just assumed it must have activated some mutation when I drank your blood... Say if you drank my blood would that get you your Venom back?

Eddie [*tempted for a moment at the possibility*]: I... no. It doesnt work that way or rather... it wouldn't be the same. I do appreciate the offer though. I know you didn't have to--that was kind of you.

Cletus: [*flashing a genuinely happy black-toothed grin*]

Eddie: So you really don't know?

Cletus: What am I supposed to know... [annoyed] How am I supposed to know?

Frances: I know that he turns into a sexy red weredragon-octopus monster thing and that he's my soulmate [*comes down from levitating to sit in his lap, causing that rotten black maw to grin wider*] That's all I need to know.

Eddie: Carnage, you didn't tell him?

Carnage: Well, I tried but...

Eddie: But what?

Carnage: His mind wouldn't accept it at the time. It was easier to go along with it.

Cletus: ...what? [To Carnage] You lied to me?

Carnage: I never lied.. you didn't listen to me and made up your own reality and it became easier to play along. In any case a convenient lie is easier than having to drag you around while you were catatonic and risk you getting arrested again.

Cletus: Eddie, what's going on? Please, give it to me straight.

Eddie: Okay, before I say anything I need you all to try and stay calm.

Cletus: That's... not reassuring.

Frances: Is he sick?

Carnage: No I devoured his illness.

Cletus: What?!

Carnage: Have you not noticed less pain in your stomach lately? Since we met?

Cletus: [*the light of understanding, he clearly does know exactly what Carnage is talking about*]

Carnage: Do you not yet understand? I. Protect. You. But that's a discussion for another time. By all means Eddie, tell them what I am. Maybe he'll actually listen to you.

Eddie: I uh.. I'm just worried if we need to plug our ears or... or if I'm gonna get skewered for saying it.

Carnage: I will behave if she will.

Frances [glaring]: I will control myself. I've gotten better at it.

Eddie: Okay. First of all with Carnage... whatever is going on with Frances, the uh mutant thing? I'm pretty sure that's not what's happening here.

Cletus: Oh...

[clearly disappointed not having this in common with his wife]

Eddie: Okay, like... do you know what Venom is?

Frances: Your power. That they stole from you, correct? Because you're like Cletus?

Eddie: Or rather Cletus is like me, yes. But it's more than that.

Cletus: That black dragon-octopus thing, right? You looked very cool by the way.

Frances: Yes, very goth.

Eddie: I... Thanks. I'll... if... if I see him again, I'll be sure to let him know.

Frances: ...Him?

Cletus [clearly dejected]: I assumed it was either a mutation or... or demonic possession. It's the latter isn't it?

Eddie: No, but uh, you're on the right track. It's a symbiote. An alien that needs a host to live--

Frances: You're an alien?

Cletus [nervously]: Like E.T. phone home?

Eddie: ...Yes.

Cletus: Seriously, little green men?

Frances: But not little... or green.

Cletus [chuckling]: Explains why I never felt like I belonged on this planet.

Frances: You're just like Superman!

Eddie: No, uh not like Superman.

Frances [Hugging her husband]: Well he's my Superman.

Cletus: Oh.

[Eddie paused in the telling as they were clearly distracted by their makeout session. Frances was probably getting a big boost from him now as he was missing Venom dearly at the moment*]

[*Carnage cleared their throat*]

Cletus: Sorry, Eddie. You were saying?

Eddie: Well uh you're a human actually. Well as far as I known. Unless there's something about your family I don't know--

Cletus: Well they're assholes but I'm guessing that's irrelevant to the current discussion. So like what do you mean then by... alien?

Eddie: I mean you have an alien living inside you.

Cletus [throat dry]: So like... I've been body-snatched?

Frances [horrified]: Chest-buster?

Cletus: It laid its eggs in me?

Eddie: Uh... kinda, No. I don't know if eggs are involved but... uh, yes. It came from Venom somehow? Spawned, split off? I don't know. But like... it's not exactly body snatched. At least it wasn't for Venom and me. When it goes right. It's living together, with another person in your body. A weirdly shaped person but a person. Bonds are about compromise, it's a...  relationship. It's...

Eddie [realizing for the first time]: It's like marriage.

Eddie [gasping]: Venom is my husband.

Frances: Your husband? So then Carnage...

Cletus [panicked]: It's not like that. Baby, I swear, it's not like that!

Carnage [annoyed, grabbing Cletus possessively with big red claws]: Yes, I'm just a third wheel, apparently.

Frances: ...If you'll excuse me.

Cletus: Baby, no.

Frances: Gotta go, shriek coming on. And think I got enough misery for now.

[bqstqnbruin]

Just Friends - Part 5

So yes I did forget to post yesterday because I fell asleep super early instead of acting as a functioning member of society but now I'm sick anyway so whoops

Read the previous part here

Warnings: Drinking, mentions of death, swearing

WC: 4776

Enjoy!

___________________

Emeline didn’t want to be out right now. After the week she had? The already minimal amount of time she had to herself with her students coming to see her every free moment she had? What was she going to do, say no to them? Yet, here she was, in a loud, crowded, slightly putrid smelling bar, with Fran and Maddy, who had way too much energy considering they also experienced what sounded like a week from hell. 

Fran, on one hand, was reamed out by one of their company's clients for something that wasn’t her fault, all while they praised her male coworkers for the things they were mad at her for. Her dad took her side, thankfully, and said they wouldn’t work together anymore if they were going to treat people like that, but still. Maddy, on the other hand, had the worst patients of the week, all of them seeming to be the same degree and angry and petulant, practically refusing her care and help. One of the older patients was pissed and asked for a different nurse because she didn’t like that Maddy had tattoos, and then didn’t speak to Maddy for her entire stay because there were no other nurses who could take care of the crotchety old woman. 

It was the first week since they were in college that the three of them all immediately went to their rooms upon coming home from work. Normally at least one of them lingered in their living room so that if the other two felt the need to rant or yell about anything, someone was there to listen. But this week, clearly, was bad. 

Emeline was sitting at a bar stool on her phone, Fran and Maddy on one side of her, ranting to each other, Emeline barely listening to Maddy’s rant about her patient.

“Where did the name Maude come from? That sounds like a crotchety old woman's name.”

“Isn’t that a shade of purple?” Fran asks, trying to get the attention of the bartender, who had been practically ignoring the three of them the entire time they were there. 

“That’s mauve, babe,” Emeline finally pipes in. 

Maddy tries to hide her laugh, knowing that confusing the two things was unlike Fran, but still incredibly funny. “What do you want to drink?” she tries to ask Emeline, failing miserably not to laugh.

“Usual,” she says, not looking up from the screen. Fran orders her a coke, the bartender clearly annoyed that there wasn’t any alcohol mixed into it. Emeline looks up just in time to see Fran giving the bartender a death stare, him slinking away as soon as their drinks are ready. 

“I swear to god,” Fran starts, yanking both Maddy and Emeline from their stools and into the crowd, “people are so ignorant when someone doesn’t want to drink alcohol.”

Fran was starting to seethe, the same speech about to start whenever someone gives even the slightest weird look about not ordering alcohol. “Fran, it’s fine. We’re at a bar, of course it’s weird that someone is ordering something without alcohol,” Emeline tries to calm her down.

“She could be DD,” Maddy points out.

“She shouldn’t need a reason to not drink.” 

“She is right here and, I’m telling you, it’s fine,” Emeline cuts in, knowing her roommates would keep up their conversation whether she said that or not. 

“Why can’t the five of us go out for once without having someone make a backhanded comment about Emeline’s drinking,” Fran continues.

“The only ones who commented were you two,” Emeline points out. “And, I only see three of us.”

Fran takes her by the shoulders, angling her towards the back corner. “Jeremy and Johnny are here.” Emeline can feel her heart racing at the mention of Jeremy, a reaction she wasn’t sure why it was happening even though she couldn’t even see him. “Or, more than five, it looks like they brought some of the team with them.”

Jeremy didn’t tell her they were meeting them tonight. Emeline and Jeremy had been texting all day when he wasn’t playing. They had an afternoon matinee earlier that day, getting the luxury of a late practice the next day before their game Monday night, all at home. He came over after the game while Maddy and Fran were out, and talked about how the girls were going out. They talked about how Keelan was away on a business trip in South Carolina for a while, right up until Thanksgiving, doing god knows what and that she wouldn’t even be seeing him until after her birthday. 

Fran drives Emeline towards the boys, Emeline feeling her mouth go dry as the group finally comes into her line of sight. Jeremy was wearing what looked like to be all black, Emeline’s heart racing at the sight of him. 

She chugs as much of her soda as she can in a few seconds, trying to shake off whatever she was feeling.

She just missed Keelan. She hadn’t seen him in a week, and she wasn’t going to see him for another two at least.

That was it.

It was just her missing Keelan. 

“We only know two of you, who are you?” Fran demands, plopping Emeline down next to Jeremy, Emeline suddenly very self conscious about what she was wearing. She didn’t have a lot of ‘going out clothes,’ her wardrobe consisting of sweats, t-shirts, and shorts, or her teaching clothes. Trying to find something that Fran and Maddy would let her out of the apartment in for a bar consisted of her wearing one of three shirts she stole from Fran during college, like the Beatles crop top and flannel she had on now and one of the pairs of pants she stole from Maddy, a pair of looser fitting navy blue pants that were tied at her waist. 

“You weren’t kidding,” one of them says, turning to Johnny who just shrugs.

“You really can't make up Francesca.”

“Either you tell me your names or I’m making up nicknames for you all.”

“She’s more aggressive than normal,” Jeremy whispers to Emeline, his thigh on the seat knocking into hers. 

“She’s only worse when she’s drunk,” Emeline tells him, turning towards him. He was much closer than she had expected him to be, trying not to look startled by his face right in hers. Not that she did anything to move away.

She missed Keelan.

Emeline clears her throat, backing away slightly. “Um, what are you drinking?” she asks, trying to change the subject.

“Rum and coke.” 

“Come on, Muppet Boy,” Fran interrupts, pulling their attention back to the rest of the group. 

“That’s not even creative,” the still unnamed teammate tries to argue, a look of awe covering his face. “She never said they were going to be creative,” Maddy points out. 

Fran launches into an argument with Muppet Boy, or Trent as Emeline had figured out based on the rest of the guys calling him that. From what Jeremy had told her, Trent was about two years older than Emeline, from St. Louis, and apparently a little unhinged when it came to him being on the ice with any guy that he didn’t like. If Fran hadn’t already probably pissed him off, she could see the two of them hitting it off. Instead, they were sitting there fighting over something that probably didn’t matter. 

Fran was enchanting the rest of the teammates with whatever slightly drunken tirade she was going on, Emeline still unsure of who the other guys around them were. Johnny and Maddy were already off in their own world, somehow slipping away from the rest of the group without Emeline noticing. 

“Mason is next to Trent,” Jeremy starts, someone reading her mind, only getting closer to Emeline as he talks. “Then, Charlie Mac, Brandon, Justin, and Morgan.” 

Emeline shakes her head, “No way I remember that.”

“Oh, come on,” Jeremy scoffs, nudging Emeline with his shoulder, sending a shiver through her body. Fuck her involuntary reactions to missing her boyfriend. “You have like ninety students whose names you told me you remembered in a week. You can remember six guys' names.”

Emeline looks over at Jeremy, watching him smile as he listened to his teammates. The slight crinkle by his eyes when he laughs, throwing his head back, making her heart warm as she drinks her coke. It tasted off, Emeline thinking nothing of it as she got unreasonably lost looking at him.

"You could eat a bunch of scrabble tiles and shit them out and whatever they say is going to make more sense than whatever the fuck just came out of your mouth,” Emeline hears Fran say, the guys laughing as Trent stares at her, dumbfounded. 

“Do you wanna dance?” she asks him out of the blue, not loud enough for anyone in their group to hear her.

Jeremy smiles and nods, both of them getting up, Emeline stumbling as she does. Why did she feel weird? She didn’t know what it was, but she felt almost spacey, the only word she could think of to describe it. All she had was her soda. 

Jeremy steadies her, his hand spreading across her lower back as he leads her out of sight of the rest of his teammates and Fran. 

Emeline felt like she was looking through a pair of glasses that were the wrong prescription, the room spinning slightly but Jeremy keeping her planted on the ground, his arms wrapped around her while she drapes her arms on his shoulders. She could feel his heartbeat, or maybe it was hers? She couldn’t tell. She felt weird.

“Woah, you really did a number on that drink, didn’t you?” Jeremy asks her.

“What?”

“The rum and coke? You started drinking from mine, but since we had the same drink, I figured it didn’t matter,” he explains, his words going right through her mind. 

All she had was her coke, not Jeremy’s. 

Emeline shakes her head, not caring about how she felt. Jeremy with her arms around her was all she cared about. She rested her head on his chest, his chin resting perfectly on top. He held her tighter, the two of them not at all moving in sync with the music around them. Emeline could feel his heartbeat against her head, sinking with the pounding she was starting to feel in her own head. She could smell his cologne, lavender and grapefruit, two of her favorite scents that she didn’t even know existed for men. 

Keelan had a cologne that always made Emeline cough, no matter how much or how little he put on. 

Emeline had no idea how long the two of them were dancing together like that, whatever space possible between them closed immediately. She had never felt this close to Keelan before. 

“Em,” Jeremy whispers, his voice hoarse. “I think everyone else is leaving.” 

Emeline looks up at Jeremy, his face again, so close to hers. She could kiss him right there. Her mind tried to find a reason why she shouldn’t just take his face in her hands and pull him in to do just that.

Keelan.

“Pizza.”

“What?”

Emeline eyes wander over Jeremy’s shoulder, the neon sign of the pizza place across the street flashing, ‘open’ at them. “I need pizza.”

She takes his hand, dragging him across the street with her. Jeremy pays for the box, despite her protests, telling her it was only on the condition that he got at least half. They were just close enough to their building that they could justify walking if they really wanted to, Emeline feeling incredibly warm despite it being November in Boston. 

They walked through the streets, Jeremy holding on to the box as Emeline stumbled every few steps, his free hand on her back just like it was in the bar to steady her. 

“I have never wanted anything more in my life,” Emeline tells him, walking up the stairs to their floor. Emeline opens the door, hearing music blasting from inside, shutting the door and turning to Jeremy faster than he can process. Jeremy ends up accidentally pinning her to the door, his breath momentarily syncing with hers despite his heart beating out of control. 

He clears his throat, stepping back while praying that his cheeks weren’t too noticeably red. “What’s wrong?”

“Fran has girl in red playing,” Emeline tells him.

“And?”

“That means she has someone in the apartment.”

“Ok?”

“No, I mean,” she tries to pull her thoughts together, the process incredibly difficult. “She is sleeping with someone in the apartment.”

“And that means we can’t go in?”

“Last time I walked in when I heard girl in red playing, I found a bra that was not Fran’s flung over the TV and boxers that were also not Fran’s on the floor by the couch. Fran and her hook up were in the hallway and on their way to the bathtub? There might have been someone already in there, but I’m still not sure, to this day.”

“That makes a lot of sense for Fran,” Jeremy laughs, handing the pizza to Emeline and dragging her down the hall towards his apartment. He opens the door, Nickelback blasting before he pulls the same move Emeline did moments earlier. “If Nickelback is playing, Johnny has a girl over.”

Emeline can’t help but laugh. “He has sex to Nickelback?”

“The girls don’t normally come back for a second night.” The two of them stand in the hallway, neither of them able to really go into their apartments. “So what do we do? Sit and eat the pizza right here?”

Emeline tries to think for a second, her head cloudy as she forces herself to remember what happened the last time Maddy or Fran had someone over and she came home sooner than they expected. She remembered scratching her leg, telling Fran, she thinks it was, that she was lucky she didn’t need stitches or any type of shot because of it. 

It finally dawns on her, a sly smile on her face as she grabs Jeremy’s hand and leads him back down the stairs. 

“Emeline, where are we going?” 

“Do you trust me?”

“With my life.” He smiles at her, her heart skipping a beat as she continues leading him down the stairs and back outside while she yells at him to keep the pizza safe. “The fire escape?”

Emeline laughs, jumping up to try to pull the ladder down, missing the first few times until Jeremy reaches over her to help her pull it down. She turns back and reaches for the pizza, Jeremy pointedly keeping it out of reach.

“Emeline, no.”

“Why not?”

“You’re going to drop it if you try to hold it and go up the ladder with it like I think you want to.”

“Like you’ll do better?” 

Jeremy goes in front of her, unable to hide the smile on his face as he moves up the ladder, not even sure why she was leading him this way as he pulls himself up with one hand while trying to keep his balance, the other hand holding Emeline’s sacred pizza. 

“Don’t let it tip,” she calls, climbing up behind him. “You’ll let the cheese fall off and then you’ll ruin it.” 

He can’t help but laugh, pretending to start to lose his balance while Emeline yells at him again. “You care more about the pizza than you do about me, don’t you? What if I were falling with the pizza and you could only save one of us?”

“Right now, I choose the pizza if you’re going to be mean to me.” 

He finally reaches their floor, Emeline’s room right next to them as he holds his hand out to help her up the final two steps. Her hand was starting to get cold from the winter air around them. Jeremy watches in awe as she manages to get her window open from the outside, watching her struggle to hold the heaving frame open. “You should keep this locked if you’re not home.”

“We always unlock each other's windows if we have someone over and someone needs to get in,” Emeline explains. 

“How often does that happen?” Jeremy says, Emeline not noticing his inability to stop staring at her as she practically folds herself in half in order to get herself inside while keeping the window from closing on her. That was how, she remembers, she cut her leg last time; the window closed as she was pulling herself in. 

He hands her the pizza that she so carefully puts down on the floor next to her, Emeline trying to keep the window open for him while he tries to follow her in. 

“Enough times that I can’t believe I forgot this is how we do it.”

Her mind was blank while she watched him climb in, his foot catching on the sill as she starts to close it, Jeremy tripping as the window slams behind them, taking them both down against the floor. Emeline bursts out laughing, sure that this response is not how she would normally react to a man that was not her boyfriend falling on top of her, feeling weirdly ok with it. “Well, that’s one way to do it.” 

The two of them situate themselves, the box of pizza on one side of Emeline, Jeremy on her other. They lean against her bed, her head falling back as she lifts a slice of her much awaited pizza, the smile growing on her face. “This is the best thing ever,” she tells him, her head feeling much more clear, though with a slight headache, than it had back at the bar. 

“It really is,” Jeremy agrees, reaching over her to grab his own slice, the tips of his fingers grazing her thigh and sending a chill through her body.

The two of them eat in silence, clearing off all but two slices in what was probably too little time for their own health.

“Hey, Em?” Jeremy asks.

“Hm?”

“You don’t drink,” he asks, his phrasing sounding more like a statement than a question.

Emeline picks up another piece of pizza, picking off some of the cheese from the end. “I was a little drunk tonight, wasn’t I?” she asks, Jeremy nodding but her not looking to see the confirmation. “My dad was killed by a drunk driver.”

“Emeline,” Jeremy starts, letting out a sigh that made him sound like he was deflating.

She shakes her head, resting one of her hands on his thigh without thinking, not caring about how natural it felt as he took her hand in his, their fingers intertwining perfectly. “It’s one of those things where I’m not sure what could have happened that would have stopped it, other than the guy not drinking.”

“Emeline,” Jeremy says again.

“I just have a hard time bringing myself to drink when I know that drinking is what cut my dad’s life shorter than it needed to be.”

“Emeline.”

“I mean,” she says, her voice catching in her throat. “Why would I do something where I lose control? I have so many things that I can’t control as it is. I can plan out every minute that I want to teach and there is still no way to possibly follow it. I can plan my schedule for the entire day, know exactly when I’m going to work on what, but something, or someone, without fail, with come up and force me to rethink everything. I can plan the T being late but even though it always is, it’s late a different amount of time every time I’m leaving school. Or the one time I think I have it, my train leaves early.”

“Em.”

She could feel her eyes starting to water, trying her best to fight back the tears. “I couldn’t control my grandmother getting old and passing away when I was in college, which, that wasn’t much of a shock because you expect someone to die when they’re older. But I couldn’t control when I broke my leg during sophomore year and had to sit out the end of the season. I couldn’t control when we lost the championship for a second time while we were because I was out. I couldn’t control my mom not wanting me and leaving me before she even got the chance to see who I would become.”

Jeremy takes the pizza from her hand and throws it into the box, pulling her into his chest as she finally lets out the sob she was holding back. 

She hadn’t cried about her mom in years. She thought about finding out her dad had died a lot, but never to the point where it brought her to tears. Same with her grandmother. She couldn’t believe that she was sitting on her bedroom floor with Jeremy, his arms around her making her feel safe.

His hand was in her hair, Emeline feeling him place a gentle kiss on the top of her head. He pulls away slightly, neither of them releasing the other from their hold. She wanted to lean in. She could ask him right now if he would kiss her, regardless of if she was just crying or not. 

It was the alcohol.

But isn’t there something about how the things you want to do when you’re drunk are what you wish you could do when you’re sober? Was she just making that up?

Before either of them could say anything, Emeline’s phone starts buzzing, Keelan’s name appearing on the screen, the two of them practically launching off each other like two teenagers being caught by parents. 

Emeline stares at her phone, debating whether or not to answer it, Jeremy sitting as far away as he could. She hadn’t thought of Keelan in what felt like hours, let alone talked to him for him to know that she would still be up. Normally, she would be asleep right now, which is why him calling was even weirder, like he called knowing it would wake her up. 

But she wasn’t asleep, for once. She wasn’t talking to her boyfriend. Instead, Emeline almost just cheated on him with someone she didn’t realize she wanted to be with.

What was she supposed to do, though? She watched as the call went to voicemail, picking up her piece of pizza and staring at it. Her relationship with Keelan was one of the only things she could control, especially when it felt like everything else was spiraling.  

___________________________

The next morning, Emeline woke up with a headache that hadn’t gone away from the night before, the first and hopefully last hangover she would have. She walked to the kitchen, finding Maddy and Fran already nursing coffee and bagels from one of the local places, Emeline’s order waiting for her on the kitchen table. 

“What happened last night?” Emeline asks.

“I hate people,” Fran mumbles, not making eye contact. “That guy last night asked for my number and hasn’t texted me,” she explains.

“That’s normal though,” Emeline points out.

“Guys are idiots. They wait too long to text back. He’s probably just asleep still,” Maddy adds, pointing to the clock on their stove that showed it was 8:00 am, an ungodly hour to be awake given how late they were all up the night before. 

“It’s not that,” Fran sighs, covering her eyes with her hands. “I found his instagram, and he has a girlfriend.”

“Oh, so we’re killing him.” 

“Tell the girlfriend as soon as he texts you. Don’t even save the number so she can see it’s him, whatever he says,” Emelien tells her, Fran just nodding, looking upset.

“I got railed,” Maddy almost gloats, rather uncharacteristically, Fran and Emeline immediately snapping their attention to her.

“Hello?”

“By who?”

“I thought you swore off men.”

“I thought you only needed yourself to pleasure yourself.”

“And the rainbow dildo we bought as part of her graduation gift.”

“Guys, I’m telling the story, here?” Maddy chimes in. 

“Who was it?”

“How was it?”

“You two are worse than those talk show women,” Maddy groans, not hiding the smile on her face. “Who he is doesn’t matter. Other than his playlist choice, it was,” Maddy sighs, a gooey-lovey expression on her face that her roommates had never seen before. “God, it was great.”

“What was the playlist choice?” Emeline asks, her and Fran leaning closer. Maddy was throwing them crumbs, they needed more.

“It had a lot of Nickelback for some reason.” Emeline chokes on her coffee when the realization hits her, Fran laughing harder than Emeline’s coughs anyway. “We said next time, I can do the playlist.” 

Fran sits back in her chair, her expression and mood going back to what it was a few minutes earlier. “Fran, what’s wrong?”

“You get a next time?” 

“I mean,” Maddy starts, her and Emeline exchanging confused looks. “That’s what we had talked about?”

“I wish I got a next time.”

“Fran, what do you mean?” Emeline asks, seeing the tears starting in Frans eyes.

“What is wrong with me that I can never get past a one night stand or a first date? All I’m good for is one night and then I’m forgotten the next day. Fuck, I can’t even get the number of a guy who isn’t thinking about using me to cheat on his girlfriend” Maddy and Emeline both reach their arms across the table, Fran taking neither of them. “It just sucks seeing everyone happy when no matter what I do to try to be happy like that, it fails.”

“But you had someone here last night, didn’t you? I heard your playlist when I tried to come in,” Emeline asks.

Fran shrugs, not making eye contact with either of them. “I just had that on. I didn’t have anyone here.”

Emeline thinks back to last night, the details admittedly foggy thanks to the alcohol she hadn’t planned on drinking. She never actually heard Fran or anyone else in the apartment when she came in, unlike almost every other night the playlist was blasting.

“Fran, you’re amazing, though, the right person will find you.”

“See, I don’t believe you. It’s really easy to say that when that’s what we’re fed, but I have had failed date after failed date, hook up after hook up, and no matter how it goes or what happens or what they say, it ends after one night. I am told every single time in one way or another that I am not good enough for anything more than a single night, and it fucking sucks every time.” 

“I know,” Emeline says.

“No you don’t,” Fran snaps. “You don’t know. You don’t get it. You’ve been with Keelan for how many fucking years? You’ve been happy enough with him and been steady enough with him that you couldn’t get it. You even have Jeremy who is in love with you and wants to be with you, as if one guy wasn’t enough.”

“Jeremy is not in love with me,” Emeline tries to counter.

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Emeline,” Fran yells, Emeline flinching, “Jeremy loves you, and you’re falling in love with him, and you’re both too stupid to say anything. You don’t know what it’s like to have rejection after rejection while watching one of your best friends sit here trying to pick between a boy she barely cares about anymore and the neighbor who will probably end up becoming her husband, knowing that no matter what you do for yourself, there will never be a second date.” 

Fran gets up before Emeline could say anything else, her and Maddy both stunned by the insecurity they had no idea Fran had coming out like that. 

“I’m falling for him?” Emeline asks, saying it outloud for the first time.

“I think you might be, babe.” Emeline sits back, contemplating this realization that her roommates already had for her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Emeline shakes her head. “Not really.” She needs to actually figure this out for herself. Jeremy couldn’t have liked her, anyway. There was no way he did. “I do want to talk about how you were the one sleeping with Johnny last night, though.” 

Maddy’s face immediately turns red, a smile still on her face. “How’d you know?”

“Jeremy and I walked in, heard the music and walked out,” she tells Maddy, both of them trying not to laugh. “I thought you were just friends.”

“Friends can turn into something more very easily.” 

[mercair]

Goodbye Mercair

On January 7th of 2017, i posted my first song ever. It was a shitty self-insert megalo that never got any likes and barely got listened to. But i didn't really make it to get popular, i knew at the time that that would never happen and i was okay with it, because i didn't make that song for that. That first song was my way of thanking this community for helping me so much during a grim part of my life, to thank YOU, Undertale/Deltarune fan just for being there, creating stuff, and making people happy... I wanted to pay back the happiness this community gave me, and it has been like that ever since.

But now i realize, after 7 years, that... I'm not needed here. Whether i'm here or not, people would still be happy. People would have banger songs to listen to and characters to obsese over, without me. And that's wonderful! I enjoy seeing people happy more than i enjoy seeing myself. Just like in real life too, i'm the kind of person that can disappear from earth, and almost nobody would notice. But it's not like i can blame them, in the last 7 years i've been here i barely talked to anybody, i barely interacted and i barely got any friends.

And also, i'll just never be able to pay my debts with this community. I owe you guys so much, but nothing of what i do will ever be enough, not for me at least. And now i just have nothing to offer. I have no new ideas, i'll have no way of composing in what seems like months at this point, and i just lost my motivation. I've ran out of excuses to justify my presence in this place.

But also, in all honesty... After 7 years of creating stuff, even though i told myself that i never did it for popularity... I just thought i would stop feeling like a nobody, and that i'd stop feeling jealous of everyone else's success on this community. Is that ungrateful of me? Am i being greedy and not appreciative enough of what i got? Honestly, that's another reason of why i decided to leave; i'm just so secretly jealous of every other famous person in this fandom, i just think it'd be unfair for you guys to have a person like me around here. Ungrateful, greedy, jealous.

So i decided it's just time. To give up. To leave.

Once i'm done writing this letter, it'll be over. I'll stop being a musician, and i'll stop being an artist too. But please don't be sad about that. I don't want you to be sad. I want you to keep being happy, living in this fandom, like always. Keep making banger tracks, keep making cool art whether it's of your favorite characters or your own awesome ocs, keep talking to your friends and the people who love you, and overall, just forget about me. Forget about all of this. All my creations, all my characters, songs and concepts, they're not worthy of your praise. But everyone else's stuff is. So please, don't remember me or else i won't be able to leave this place in peace.

And now, i guess the question people are more interested in right now is "What will happen to all your stuff then?" Well, as some may have noticed, i've already taken down all of my original tracks from my soundcloud account, except for the covers/songs i made for other people and collabs, which are still up, since they're either not my characters, or i just wasn't the only one that worked on it, and it would be unfair to delete it. The soundcloud account will soon go unnamed, and i'll erase any connection to me it has, so people will be able to listen to those songs, without my name in it. As for my Tumblr and Twitter account... I'm now debating on whether or not to delete them, or just do the same and erase my name from both of them. I also gotta point out the possibility of me regreting this decision, but even if i do, i'm most likely not coming back.

So that's it. But before i go, i want to apologize. For everything.

I'm sorry i wasn't the best at what i did.

I'm sorry if my music wasn't good enough to make you smile or bang your head to it.

I'm sorry if my artistic abilities never catched your eye.

I'm sorry that i was never able to make a character you could obsess over.

I'm sorry if i was just too awkward and unfunny when talking to you.

I'm sorry if i was never able to become your friend and be someone you could talk to on the daily.

And most of all, i'm sorry for thinking that i could be like you. That i could be one of you.

All of you are so talented... SO incredibly talented and such good people... You're all legitimatlly amazing, and don't let people tell you otherwise. You're all gonna do great stuff in the future with the skills you have now, i guarantee it.

Well, i have to go now.

Thank you. For everything, and for what you did for me so many years ago. Thanks to you, i managed to be happy for the last 7 years of my life.

Goodbye UTDR.

[cute-as-buttons]

could not resist trying my hand at a drabble after seeing this post by @wanderingbards

spoilers for act 1 under the cut!!

(no traps here.)

“we're good, mira.“ you smile. ”see? everything's fine.”

you stand there, and a moment too late you realise that maybe, just maybe, you'd perhaps been wrong.

and as you live through the novel experience of your body being crushed by a rock, you feel a tug on your stomach. And-

[loop 1]

you sleepily open your eyes. your body feels sore.

were you on the ground too long?

you close your eyes again and breathe out. around you, you can hear the chirping of birds, and you know just a few moments away, is the bright and chattering town of dormont, who've still managed to keep up the levity even though the world might end tomorrow.

but it won't. because you and your friends will stop the king and save vaugard.

after all this time, your journey is nearing its end.

you smile, thinking of how much they've all grown since you've known them. you've been travelling for as long as you can remember, and while your memory has never been your greatest strength, you do know that this is the happiest you've ever been.

the sun is shining, peaking from behind the clouds, the air is warm and you and your party will make sure that the warmth carries over into tomorrow.

you will win. you have to.

(get up, siffrin. you have a country to save.)

you dust the stray leaves that found your way onto your cloak and hat when you hear a voice calling out your name.

“-frin!”

oh, yeah it's almost midday, you probably overslept. oh well, you had a nice nap.

you yawn and call out.

“i'm here!”

you barely get in a “hey, mira-!” she crushes you in a hug. you stiffen, your arms hanging at your sides. you don't know how to react.

is…this the first time she's done that? hugged you?

huh. weird.

she pulls back a second later, and you're about to crack a joke when you see her face.

mirabelle has always been an anxious person, but this feels…different. somehow.

she's always been anxious, but right now she looks terrified.

“i'm so sorry, i didn't mean to touch you, i was just so afraid i wouldn't find you here-” she says, clasping her hands together. she looks like she's about to explode in a ball of anxiety and burst into tears.

(didn't mean to touch you?)

you're so confused.

“hey, hey, mira,“ you say, gesturing to her. ”slow down. breathe with me?“

you put your hand on your chest and gesture for mirabelle to follow.

deep breath in. deep breath out.

you smile a little at her when she stops shaking.

”better?“

she nods.

”okay, now, what's wrong? what happened?“

something about you is bothering her. but you don't know what.

”i…“ mira looks at you, almost like she's in…awe? “do you not remember?”

your breath catches at that.

(what is it, what did you forget this time? was it a birthday, an anniversary? what did you forget??)

mirabelle looks upset.

YOU MADE MIRABELLE UPSET!!

(You need to rectify your heinous crime right now.)

“no, of course i remember,” you say quickly, trying desperately to figure out what you might've forgotten. “we were supposed to meet at the clock tower, and tomorrow we go and defeat the king and save vaugard! right?”

you look to her for confirmation. she looks at you like she's going to cry.

(wait…)

”wait,“ you say, shaking your head in confusion. ”what did you mean that you were “afraid you wouldn't find me here”? i told you guys i'd be here if you needed me right?“

(did you forget to did you forget to did you forget to did you-)

something in mira's face changes. she sighs and shakes her head. you're so so confused.

and you can tell that mira doesn't seem to be in the mood for answers. you get it. so…

”did you,” you start, smiling a little. a little smirk just to let her know you're teasing. “fall asleep and have a nightmare?”

it's an out, and she takes it.

she shakily nods and tries to laugh. it comes out more as a whimper.

“yeah, i guess that must've been it,” she says. “i'll be in the town if you need me.”

you watch her leave.

something is going on with her, and you don't know what it is, but you intend to find out.

maybe something happened while you were asleep. you should

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC Lucien’s The Sea No Longer Distant MQ translation (Part 3/3)

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for an MQ that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

[Warning]: The content of this MQ is pretty explicit and may not be suitable for individuals under the age of 18 (CN server). It is recommended that those who do not meet this age requirement refrain from proceeding beyond this point.

Translation under the cut!

Previous Part=> [Click Here]

—[Part 5]—

I don't understand Lucien’s words.

The problem that has been troubling us does not have a final solution.

Perhaps neither his stubbornness nor mine is wrong. Maybe all we need is a few days of rest, or to reap some successful rewards, and then we can move forward.

It's just... I feel like there are some very important answers that I've overlooked.

??: MC, since you're free, wanna come play beach volleyball?

Producer Xiao Cui excitedly runs over from afar, grinning at me.

Xiao Cui: We're just two players short!

MC: [unamused] "Two players short"? You haven't even found anyone to play against!

MC: [worriedly] Besides, I'm not that great at volleyball.

Xiao Cui: Hahaha, it’s fine as long as you can hit the ball over the net~ Besides, we have Professor Lucien!

Lucien hears this and just smiles, turning to look at me.

Lucien: Do you want to play?

MC: If... you're not afraid of losing badly with me on your team, I guess getting some exercise wouldn't be too bad~

Before sparring with Xiao Cui, Lucien earnestly guides me through some simple warm-up exercises.

Then, he skillfully volleys the volleyball. Despite the sea breeze, I catch it steadily.

The azure sky seems clearer and brighter than usual. The breeze sways the palm leaves and also lifts up his hair.

I don't know if it's because of the exercise or him in front of me, but my heartbeat feels faster than usual.

MC: Lucien, have you played volleyball before?

He seems to think about it seriously, then nods slightly.

At his cue, I pass the ball to him again.

Lucien: [in an unsure tone] Oh, it seems I did play a bit when I was in the States*.

He quickly glances at the ball and the court, appearing to have already calculated where the next ball will land.

Perhaps even Lucien himself doesn't realize it, but right now his lips are slightly lifted, and his eyes sparkle with pure joy and relaxation.

MC: ...You would forget something like that?

Lucien: Maybe I subconsciously felt it wasn't a memory worth keeping.

Lucien: After all, when those people hit a bottleneck, they'll want to waste time playing around with anything, no matter how irrelevant.

Lucien: They called it ‘changing their way of thinking’?

Lucien: [chuckles] Sometimes, if I was unlucky, they'd drag me along for a friendly match.

MC: [laughs] How is that unlucky?!

I laugh and accidentally miss the ball, sending it flying far away.

Lucien: They called it a friendly match, but they'd make me direct the offense, and if we lost, we'd have to review it…

Lucien: [despite his words, there's a subconscious fondness in his tone:"] It was a waste of time and very troublesome.

Lucien's voice drifts over with the sea breeze, and before I can react, Xiao Cui is already positioned across from me, eagerly raring to go.

Although it's just a casual game, everyone is playing with a competitive spirit.

As the volleyball flies over the net at high speed, he quickly shuffles into position and bends his knees slightly, mirroring the ball's trajectory.

His forearm muscles tense, sending the ball soaring perfectly towards me.

With barely a step, I leap and spike it over the net.

MC: Woah!

Even with my limited volleyball experience, I can instantly feel the precision and power of Lucien's pass.

But as the ball is hit back and forth, especially with the sand and sea breeze, he still seems to be struggling to hold on by himself.

I really want to try hard to catch the ball, but the increasingly heavy breathing and hot air make my steps feel heavier, and my arms and wrists are starting to ache.

At the same time, as we get into the rhythm, the ball's speed keeps increasing.

We seem to have entered a state of urgency, tension, and desperation, yet neither of us is willing to give up.

Even though I'm exhausted, I start running again.

A ball is spiked straight into the open front court. I almost instinctively run forward and scoop it up…

…Bumping it high into the air.

The sky is clear and vast, and everything seems to slow down. I subconsciously hold my breath and look up.

The ball continues to fly, passing through wispy clouds and seabirds, falling towards the edge of the court.

A small splash of water enters my vision, and the vast ocean shimmers with light as Lucien already stands beneath the falling ball.

He also maintains his gaze upwards, and then finally slowly turns his eyes towards me.

Lucien: ...So that's how it is.

His expression looks so gentle as he lifts the ball to a higher place as soon as it touches his fingertips.

The blinding sunlight blurs my vision, and in this moment, I finally understand.

What is your own mood, and what is that very important answer?

The ball soars high with the wind, giving me plenty of time to slowly adjust my pace and posture. I let out a breath and—

It lands steadily in my hands, as if those words that have never been spoken reach me in the silence.

Xiao Cui: ...Boss, why don't you hit it back over the net!

Panting, I watch as Lucien walks toward me.

Lucien: Let's... take a break.

✂— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Lucien and I stroll along the beach in the sunset, shoes in hand. The gentle tide washes over our ankles, and for a moment, neither of us says anything.

After an unknown amount of time, Lucien stops.

I turn my head and see him standing a few steps away from me.

The dense evening mist falls upon the distant shore, and darkness creeps in from the edges of the horizon.

Warmth and coldness seemed to pour onto him at the same time, making Lucien look so enigmatic at this moment.

MC: [smiles softly] Lucien, I just suddenly realized something that I have always overlooked and taken for granted.

Gazing into those dark eyes, I smile at him.

MC: In my heart, Lucien is also ‘the best’.

MC: Before, I would only think that you were physically tired, but neither your mind nor your heart would ever stop.

MC: Even though that seems to be true, I seem to have forgotten to ask you…

I put away my smile and look at him with utmost seriousness.

MC: Are you... also afraid of stopping?

The surging tide echoes ceaselessly, just like a restless heart.

Most of Lucien's face is hidden in shadow, making his expression a little difficult to perceive clearly.

In that dark sea, does that ever-forward gaze hold too many struggles that I cannot fathom?

Lucien: Perhaps, in the time when I couldn't yet define it…

Lucien: I have felt fear too.

His voice is light as if it had finally descended after thousands of days and nights of contemplation.

MC: ...What are you afraid of?

Lucien: Afraid of death.

At that moment, Lucien appears a bit cold.

Lucien: Perhaps, I often feel that "stopping" is equivalent to death.

In the entirety of those urgent years, his hasty footsteps never looked back.

Truth and death are always accompanying each other, both has been beautiful and captivating enough for long time, making every moment spent in vain seem particularly wasteful.

Lucien: But... you appeared, and I hope you can slow down your growth at your own pace.

MC: I know.

Lucien: But maybe that's not the case.

A blank confusion seems to appear in his eyes, making him seem so real.

Lucien: Long before I realized it... I already needed you by my side more than I had imagined.

Lucien: I didn't have such high expectations before, because I thought you were already good enough as you were, but you always... always walked by my side.

His hoarse voice drifts through the last rays of fading light, igniting a warmth that envelops my entire body.

Lucien: You once told me that you would definitely catch up with me.**

Lucien: And I don't know when it started, but I've gotten used to it, and I took it for granted that you would definitely be here.

MC: And I will always be here.

Lucien: Yeah, so I forget.

He squeezes out an incredibly tender and loving smile, tinged with a hint of heartache, and slowly walks towards me.

Lucien: I forgot that you actually worked very, very hard... to keep yourself walking behind me.

Lucien: I thought achievement was only natural because I was arrogant and selfish, and I thought everyone should follow my steps.

Lucien: I took your presence by my side for granted, enjoyed your company, and the feeling of you dreaming with me.

Lucien: But I forgot…

Lucien: That you will get tired.

His voice is so soft, it's as if something breaks the dam with it, blending him with the dusk and merging into another sea.

Lucien: I'm a fool, aren't I?

Tiny kisses fall on my face, making the person in front of me both blurry and clear.

MC: I don't want to let down your expectations or make you wait for me, but I really want to dream with you.

Lucien: [very, very softly] I know.

MC: But I'm really tired, Lucien.

I feel Lucien's arms wrap around me in a hug, and hear his voice against my ear.

Lucien: Mm, it’s very tiring…

Lucien: And I am tired too.

It’s not only when you’re lost that you’re allowed to stop; when you’re tired, it’s okay to stop as well.

It's not about stopping for others, but also about giving others the signal that it's ‘okay to stop’.

It seems so simple, but for him, it's so difficult and unfamiliar.

No one had ever told him this, or perhaps someone had hinted at it, but he was always in too much of a hurry to ever seriously examine it.

Until there is someone in his life that he can't let go of, making him uncomfortable yet also helpless.

She had given him this feeling many years ago, and now, as the branches and leaves grow deeper into his marrow, he knows he can no longer escape.

He finally sees the lightless sea clearly, realizing that the starting point that had long disappeared is now far, far behind him, and he no longer needs to fear stagnation.

Behind him, there seem to be many ships, large and small, with unfamiliar and familiar faces, and in the instant of turning sideways, he sees her.

Lucien: My dreams already have you in them.

Tears and kisses blend together as Lucien gently lifts me as if he is holding up my entire world.

Lucien: [whispers softly] I think... you can't leave anymore.

MC: I've never considered that option.

I lower my eyes to meet his gaze, lost in that depths of the ocean tide, and devoutly kiss him.

With a contented sigh, our lips and tongues lovingly entwine, and we ardently seek to leave a mark on each other that melds into our very flesh and blood.

Our body heat and scents mingle, colors both similar and different blend beyond distinction, like water dissolving into the sea, leaving no trace of their differences.

It's just that we are both intentional, deliberately wanting to linger a little longer and stain the other person's whole body in our own colors.

The tide rises and falls as he and I entangle in a dance. But just as he wants all of me, I want all of him.

I want all his fears and brokenness, all his longing and love, until his soul is bare.

Even I am startled by this greed of mine and can't help but laugh.***

Lucien laughs as well. I don’t know why, but I always feel like he knows.

MC: Love is truly troublesome, isn't it?

Lucien: [whispers hoarsely] But it also makes me incredibly satisfied.

His hoarse voice falls to my lips, and I feel him filling my entire world, leaving no room for retreat.

Lucien: So... I'll gladly bear it all.****

— — — —FIN (but there's one bonus story + short reflection under this T/N) — — — —

[T/N:

It turns out that what she overlooked was her own expectation of him—that he could keep going as long as he didn’t feel physically tired. They see each other as the "best" and, even if they don’t mean to, they unconsciously place the ‘expectation’ on each other to always move forward and reach ever-greater heights… This date provides them the opportunity to grow through reflection:”

*: Him mentioning his time in USA! You can read more about his friends in Monochrome Scenery.

**: It's from what MC said in Fantasy Book Date! Just as this date mentions again and again, the path he walked on is a lonely one. It’s because MC has been working hard to accompany him so he doesn’t feel as lonely; and on this date, Lucien realizes that he’s been taking this for granted.

And, while before I highlighted them mirroring each other imperfection, now I want to highlight how they mirror each other desires~

***: MC’s ‘I want all his fears and brokenness, all his longing and love, until his soul is bare. Even I am startled by this greed of mine and can't help but laugh.’ this is a mirror to Lucien’s most classic line; “I am insatiable and I want your everything.” . Just as Lucien longs to ‘have’ all of her, she also longs to greedily ‘have’ all of him, whether it’s the good or the bad.

****: Lucien’s last line is a direct reference of MC’s line from Aquarium Date. This might get missed because Elex translated it differently ahah. The Chinese idiom 甘之如饴 (gān zhī rú yí) literally translates to “as sweet as syrup.” It is used to describe someone who willingly endures hardship or difficulty, often with a sense of satisfaction or joy. So, even though love is ‘troublesome’ and can cause suffering, just like her, he’s willing to endure it as if it’s a sweet thing.

✂— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

—[Memory Silhouette - Like-minded people]—

Seagulls fly low, stirring up dense foam of waves.

My colleagues and I are sitting around the beach chatting when one of the editors suddenly seems to remember something and shows us their phone calendar.

Editor: Comrades, let me tell you a horror story.

Editor: In three days, we'll be back at work. Why does vacation time always fly by so fast?!

Assistant Director: Shh, don't ruin the fun at the happiest time!

Screenwriter: ...Hey hey, the boss is right there. Is it really okay to be so openly "sick of work"?

With that comment, they all turn their gaze towards me, the "boss." I shrug helplessly in response.

MC: If I could, I wouldn't want to work either.

Editor: No way, the boss has to work. If the boss doesn't work, who's going to pay us~

Everyone bursts into laughter.

At that moment, I spot a familiar figure through the crowd and quickly raise my arm, waving enthusiastically.

MC: Lucien, over here~

Director: The boss's boyfriend is here, make room, make room.

With a whoosh, the colleagues beside me immediately scoot aside, kicking up a puff of sand in their haste.

Under everyone's gaze, Lucien smiles and sits beside me, his fingers discreetly intertwining with my pinky behind our backs.

Lucien: Hello everyone, I hope I'm not interrupting anything.

Editor: Of course not. We were just talking about how our vacation is almost over, and we're very, very reluctant to go back.

Lucien: If you're really that reluctant, the boss is right here. Why not take a few more days off while you have the chance?

MC: That’s right. As long as you have leave left in your attendance record, I’ll definitely approve it.

Editor: Seriously? I have half a year of compensatory leave! I want to take half a year off!!!

Assistant Director: **** you, just quit already!

Editor: Boss! Approve it!

MC: In your dreams!

A group of people laugh and joke heartily, but only Lucien ponders silently as if he is quietly observing something.

Lucien: As far as I know, editing is one of the more demanding jobs in the film and television industry, with working through the night being quite common.

Editor: Alas, there’s nothing I can do about it.

Editor: Sorting and organizing dozens of terabytes of footage, and syncing audio tracks—it's all very tedious work.

Editor: And if you do it long enough, lower back pain, varicose veins, and tendinitis will all come knocking. The "side effects" are pretty severe!

Lucien: Since that's the case, do you continue doing it because you really like the job?

Lucien's question makes the editor pause, then quickly straightens up and declares their loyalty to me.

Editor: Of course, boss, I still really like this job.

Editor: Editing is the soul of a film. Without an editor, even the best shots and stories can't be properly expressed.

Screenwriter: Hey hey, the screenwriter is the soul of the film.

Director: I have to disagree. The director is the core of the team!

Although they are arguing, each person's face is filled with smiles, their eyes brimming with passion and longing for their dreams.

Editor: But... how should I put it? It's a bit of a stretch to say it's purely for the dream.

Editor: You know how tiring it is. How much is a dream worth? Isn't it all for the salary and this group of people?

Editor: It's still more fun to dream together.

Everyone is stunned for a moment, and I blink my eyes.

Assistant Director: You're starting to get sentimental, huh?

Screenwriter: But it's true, I'd rather work overtime to write scripts for everyone than for those **** clients.

Watching my colleagues playfully bicker beside me, I can't help but smile, feeling an indescribable sense of gratitude.

When we get back, I'll give everyone a raise. And I'll earn even more money so we can all dream even bigger dreams together.

Dreams are built on the foundation of reality, and I'm lucky to have met partners who make them bloom even more beautifully.

Lucien: [murmurs quietly]...I see.

A soft voice falls in my ear, and I come back to reality to find Lucien murmuring something.

MC: What’s wrong?

Lucien: I just suddenly realized the meaning behind many seemingly meaningless moments in the past.

Lucien: If I had understood this sooner, I might have achieved better results with a gentler approach.

Seeming to sense my heavy gaze, he turns his head.

Lucien: Why are you looking at me like that?

MC: [smiles softly]  I actually think you should be luckier than me.

Lucien: ...Why?

MC: Because scientific research is harder than what we do. For a long and uncertain outcome, there are still many people who choose to walk with you.

MC: They are all such talented people, but they all believe in you and are willing to dream with you.

His eyes seem to be filled with a surge of complex emotions, causing him to furrow his brows involuntarily.

Lucien: I thought it was just a sort of give-and-take relationship.

For some reason, his words made me feel a sense of loneliness.

Many words surge in my mind, but in the end, I only hold his hand.

MC: Perhaps humans, as these strange creatures, are more complex and greedy than you think.

✂— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

[Lux’s Short Reflections]

And with this, the MQ translation is done! :>. Personally, this one is probably the hardest translation I’ve ever done because of how poetic and delicate the words are... But! It still has a very interesting theme and ‘problem’ that I never thought of and I enjoy translating this one~

Lucien has… always been someone who moves ahead of others, and many people admire him and want to follow in his footsteps. However, his rapid pace unintentionally creates invisible pressure for others to keep up. Lucien struggled to understand why he caused this pressure and reflected on it, trying to find an answer. Perhaps, as a genius, he finds it hard to grasp that others need to work harder to reach his level, or maybe he moves so quickly that he doesn’t have time to reflect.

After opening up his heart to her, Lucien finally realized he also needed to rest. He understood that his hurried pace wasn’t just an instinct but a fear of stopping, which he equated with death. After realizing how far he already is in the ‘sea’, he finally grasped that he doesn’t need to keep pushing himself so hard and creating pressure for himself, as he has already come a long way. He can also feel exhausted, even if it’s not physical tiredness just like in last year's Distant Similarity MQ.

So, it’s okay to take a break, not only if you no longer can move forward, but also if you feel ‘tired’. If you're still reading and feeling like you're ‘not good enough’, take a moment to look back and see how far you've come. You’re wonderful for making it this far, so don’t forget to give yourself a break as a reward~ And lastly… thank you for reading!

[shadowofahope]

Possibilities

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, aggressive alpha tendencies, swearing, near-death experiences, mentions of heat and suppressants

Pairing: Nonidol!Changbin/Nonidol!Minho x Reader

Premise: Omega Primes were rare, being forced to reproduce with other Primes. You never liked the idea of mates, forced or not. A runaway Prime, with two alphas to catch their fall and open up a whole new realm of possibilities.

Author’s notes: Soooo, I'm like secretly/not so secretly obsessed with both of these men right now. When I had originally written this I had no plans to post it, but here we are. Months later with the inability to let it go. I hope you enjoy it regardless! This was definitely written purely for me and my soulmate @jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue to drool over💜

Word count: 8.8K

masterlist

“Chan when I say, hold your breath grab Felix and run. Don’t stop until you have Felix safe.” Chan nods to you, he might now know exactly what your plan was but he knew as well as you did that you both had to get Felix out of there. 

“What are you thinking y/n? We can’t leave you here.” Felix huffs, his breath getting harder to release from his lungs. Chan holds him up, arm under his shoulder keeping him close.

“I’ll be fine Lixie, I’ll catch up Yea?” You give him a reassuring smile, followed by a wink. Focus still on the hoard of Alphas that had unfortunately followed Felix on his attempt to escape.

“Y/n-“

“Now chan!”

You hear him inhale deeply before he’s holding it, grabbing Felix hand and see them dart forward. Heading towards the exit from the roof.

In an instant you release your pheromones. Inducing your own heat.

All alphas that had followed Felix up to the roof had now turned on you. Now forgetting about the preheat omega.

Releasing a ragged breath, lungs thick with hot air. It’s like you can feel every bone in your body, every inch of your skin triggered by electricity. Your clothes feel itchy against your heated flesh. 

You barely register the door reopening, this time without the receding Alpha and Omega, but in a mere blink 2 new alphas had joined the swarm. You’d roll your eyes if you could. 

Fucking Alphas.

It’s only a matter of time before one of them advances on you, in any attempt to pounce and take you. Take you as the others join in. A shiver of disgust runs down your spine. The saliva in your mouth is feeling too much now. 

You take a step back on sinking legs. Taking a distracted moment to peer behind you. 10 stories, you could make that…well uninjured wasn’t likely but at least you would be away. You’d need at least a few hours to be able to reel in your heat. Your foggy mind reminds you to stay focused on the alphas in front of you, which would normally be your most pressing issue however in your escape-deciding thoughts the two new alphas that have joined late are now directly standing in front of you. 

And they’re snarling in the direction of the swarm. That’s when your muddled senses detect it. Like freshly baked bread on a cold day, with a hint of something sweet. Aired out bed linen left outside on a warm day, something toasted dances within it. The scents fused together, getting stronger and stronger by the second.

Your eyes adjust briefly, Minho and Changbin stand off against the triggered alphas. 

“Well that’s new” You manage to mumble. As you watch them snarl and defend you. If you were in another state, you’d say you were impressed. Maybe your scent was just really repulsive to them? If you could remember, you’d ask later.

You fight through the Omega need to find an Alpha to satiate your rising hunger, pulling out all of your Prime strength you can. If there was ever a time to be thankful for being a prime it would be now. 

Even if the two could fight through the mass, too many people would be hurt.

Your spine straightens, eyes flashing to Prime, voice taken over.

“ALPHA.” Your Prime voice makes everyone halt. The alpha voice might be a terrifying weapon for alphas to use against omegas, but they had no idea what the Prime voice could be capable of. “DOWN.”

Your command is taken instantaneously, the swarm of alphas on the roof all drop to their knees. Their bodies shake with their inability to control themselves. 

“LOWER.” the voice growled from you. On their knees, hands and chest to the roof the alphas went in unisent. 

All except two alphas. They continue to stand vigilant. Which once again, if you remember you’d ask them about that.

You know you can’t hold it for long. Your body almost giving into the full heat you’ve thrown yourself into. 

Speaking of throw, without another thought you feel your control snap. Simultaneously as you throw yourself over the railing plummeting down to the concrete below. 

The last thing you hear is the voices of the two alphas above scream your name, as your feet slam into the ground.

----

“Most primes are protected. Then there’s you, inducing your own heat and then throwing herself off 10 story buildings.” Your specialist doctor chastises as he finishes taking your vitals for the day..

“You’d be bored if I was like regular primes.” You jest. He shakes his head, but doesn’t look at you. It's the same old song and dance with you two.

“If your family-”

“If my family cared, I’d have a legion of guards to protect me. But they don't, so I take care of myself.” You finish for him, he finally looks at you. Eyes pleading as always.

“A broken leg is taking care of yourself?” He gestures towards your very large cast, covering from your foot to your mid thigh.

“I didn’t say I was the best at it, did I?” You give him your best fake sincere smile.

“Fine. But could you atleast think about finding someone to bond with?” His sigh of defeat sends an itch over your skin. “I don’t care if it isn’t an omega, hell it could be an Alpha or even a Beta. But atleast that would be some form of safety net for you.”

You don’t answer. You never do. For as long as you’ve been alive you’ve been told you had to mate with another Omega Prime, keep the family line strong. But you cut ties with your family long ago and couldn’t find it within yourself to feel comfortable with the idea of a mate. 

“I worry about you.” He goes back to packing up his things, keeping his back to you. 

“I know.” It’s all you can manage.

You hear him sigh loudly again as he makes his way around the room, hesitating by the door.

“Hey doc.” You call as his hand is on the door knob. “Thanks.” 

You had a lot to thank him for. Not just this time, but continuing to look after you when you left the Prime courts. He could have easily walked away from all your ridiculous behaviour and you wouldn't have falted him for it, but he chose to push on being your doctor. Helping you in any shape and form you needed. 

“I’ll see you soon.” He smiles at you before opening it. “Hello Felix, are you feeling better?”

“Yes Doctor, a lot better. Is she awake?” You hear the fake light tone from the hallway. 

Ah shit.

“Yes she is.” You look away, you weren’t ready to apologize for what you did. You did what you thought was right. 

You listen as he enters. Shuffling as the door closes.Theres a moment of silence before he speaks.

“You said you’d catch up.” Felix sniffles from the end of your hospital bed, you look at him. 

“And I did.” You try to lighten.

“A broken leg wasn’t part of the deal.” His angry eyes bore into you. “You could have been really hurt.”

“I know, I’m sorry. But I’m alright.” You motion for him to come closer, shifting slightly to give him enough space to climb on the bed with you. When he snuggles in you feel his body relax. “Just a little sore. Nothing to worry about. I’m just glad you’re safe.” 

----

A few days in the infirmary felt like years with the amount of boredom you were in. The only highlight was Felix joining you when he had some down time. 

Another day of Felix fussing over you, running back and forth to make sure you had food and liquids and you weren’t in pain. Eventually he settled down to eat with you, your conversations turning back to that day.

“I was terrified when the Hyungs passed us on the stairs. Chan tried to yell at them not to, but it was too late.” You can see the crease between his eyebrows as he thought about it. “I really thought they’d become like the others. But now I’m so glad they were there.”

You don’t say anything, your memories coming back are fuzzy. A drowsy flash of two alphas snarling in defense, rage and protectiveness aimed at keeping you safe. 

“I knew Changbin and Minho have really good control over their instincts, but that? I really am impressed.” He chuffs, proud of his older members for keeping themselves in check. 

In a cloud you remember their backs, the muscles tight with Alpha stances on full display. But…. Had you managed to direct your Prime voice to only the lost alphas? In a normal circumstance you wouldn’t second guess it. However, inducing your own heat had made it almost impossible to differentiate one alpha from another. The musky clouds of Alphas making your stomach feel like it was made of cement, your Omega instincts could still smell the two. 

Wait, have you ever really smelled them before? It was them wasn’t it? You don’t go around smelling others for the reason that most scents are slightly nauseating. So with your Prime abilities you forced your Omega instincts down. But did that really mean you just never noticed that you completely ignored others scents?

Glancing over at felix you let out a hesitant sniff, a citrus burst with a dash of caramel. Ok, you could smell him, he smells like he always does. So why did you….

“What do Changmin and Minho smell like?” 

You watch him pause, taking in your words. He looks up at you visibly confused.

“You’ve never noticed?” There sounds like there’s something hidden in his voice, something you aren’t sure what it is.

“I guess not.” You contemplate. “I think I smelt them on the roof, but I don’t think I’ve ever actually paid attention to it before.” 

“Ah, well they have kind of off putting pheromones.” Felix gently tries to explain. 

“Off putting?” That does shock you. What you smelt on the roof was nothing like that.

“Yea, um.” An awkward cough escapes him. “Minho Hyung kind of smells like… pure sugar? Too sugary, sickly sweet? If that makes sense. And Changbin Hyung smells…well…. burnt.”

You think back to the scents from before, letting your senses reimagine them. The comforting pheromones filling your lungs, even now makes your brain go cloudy. Was it them you had smelt then, or was it different Alphas in the throng of chaos. 

“They both take some special suppressants to kind of dampen them, but I try not to breathe too deeply around them. It’s not as uncomfortable as it used to be, but you can still smell it.” 

“Huh….” 

“Was it them?” His question is genuine. “It would make sense for them to be emitting really strong pheromones during all that.”

“I’m not sure.” You shrug, you don’t need the younger omega to worry about anything else right now. “It’s ok, I’ll just sniff them later.”

“Well don’t forget that I warned you.” He laughs off your words. Back to eating the homemade food he brought with him.

A hint of warm baked bread dances on the food. Which seems odd because Felix didn’t bring any.

----

The next day you had another visit from your doctor, he checked your leg and vitals, making sure your heat was down before agreeing to sign your release papers.

“I’m only agreeing to this because if I don’t you’re only going to make it worse for all of us.” He exclaims. You could tell he was tired. He was extremely busy. Being a Beta and scent deaf meant he could treat all subgenders without any issue of pheromones getting in his way. It was one of the reasons he had stayed with you since you were a kid. It’s why he even became a doctor. “However, I have arranged for you to be looked after while you finish healing.”

“Is that really necessary?” You whine, shifting yourself to the side of the bed, carefully bringing both feet to hang down. 

“Yes.” 

Ok, no room for debate clearly. You silently sat there as he collected himself, coming over to stand in front of you. Without realizing it you were already pouting.

“Just….please. Heal first, cause mayhem later.” 

You nod, pout still there. “But who-” 

The door swings open and your eyes sparkle. 

“Ready to go?” Felix asks from the door, the bubbliest smile on his face, a large duffle bag in his hands.

“Really?” The giddiness almost taking over. 

Felix was always so busy with his group, you and he barely had time to spend together. So to have him being the one to take care of you, you are excited to say the least. 

Your doctor rolls his eyes at you, “Let’s get you home.”

----

Having Felix as your temporary caretaker was probably the best 2 weeks you’ve had. 4 more weeks of Felix and you having movie nights, letting yourselves indulge in more Omega oriented activities. By that you meant creating one big nest for the two of you to sleep in together. Your bed wasn’t big enough to create the perfectly comfy nest to happily tingle your omega needs, so you two had chosen to make it in the living room under your large sky light. Pushing your couch back slightly to make room. He had brought all of the bedding and blankets and pillows he owned to yours, and you had instructed him where you kept the thick comfy quilts. 

You hadn’t made a proper nest in a long while, and as comfy as it was, as perfect as it was…something was missing. You just couldn’t explain what, so you didn’t mention anything. It really wasn't necessary. 

Felix did an amazing job helping you in your mundane everyday tasks. Honestly, it had never been so much fun. But a foreboding was approaching; Felix’s heat cycle was shorter than others. So within the next week he would be slipping and he wouldn’t be able to look after you and you sure as hell wouldn’t be able to do anything for him. 

He had asked if he could take half of his things and half of yours with him when he was away for that week. Him saying your omega scent would help ease the time. Of course you agreed wholeheartedly. You offered him every piece of fabric that smelt like you that could be moved. 

You had been able to get around with crutches now, but some things were still difficult. Simple things felt derailingly exhausting, without completing things you’d need a 2 hour nap to recuperate. On the day his pre-heat began he let you know that someone would be by to check up on you later in the day. Leaving you with breakfast and a half nest. You had hugged and bid goodbye. Your now vibrant apartment now stark and boring. You sigh to yourself, annoyed with your already darker demeanor. 

Giving up you climb back into the half made nest, too tired to fix it. The scent of citrus barely there. You push away your thoughts as you fall into a light slumber.

—

Your sleep groggy mind reacts before your body. You feel too heavy to move, sleep threatening to pull you back in. Was someone baking a pastry? If they were, it smelt delicious, you hoped they would save you some. You rolled slightly, to alleviate the pressure you were putting on your cast, you must have curled oddly in your sleep. A wave of clean bedding wafted over you. Did someone bring you some new things for your nest? That was nice of them. 

You compelled your eyes to open, on your back staring up into the sky light. Too much sun beaming down on your face causes you to outwardly groan, rotating to prop yourself up eyes adjusting to your apartment again. 

You watch the figure in the kitchen, wearing your apron tied snuggly around his waist, shuffle back and forth, chopping and then back to something on the stove. You drag yourself with your hands and good leg onto your couch to observe them better. His light brown hair, catching in the sunlight, almost dances a copper tone. His feline features once and a while angled better for you to catch glimpses of his concentration. Contentedly you watch him, sitting silently as he doesn’t realize you’re awake. 

That is, until the itch to know becomes too unbearable.

“Lixie says you and Bin take pheromone suppressants.” It's not a question. You watch him halt his movements, but only for a split second then resuming his cooking.

“Yes.” His voice is relatively mellow. At least he doesn’t seem annoyed talking about it. So far.

You hear the bathroom door open from the hall, heavy footsteps coming into the main area. 

“You’re awake” Changbin smiles at you. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired. I’m bored of being tired.” You explain away. “How can you both need them? I was surprised when he told me. Especially when I thought I smelt you both on the roof that day.”

Changbins weary look is directed at his hyung, he had no idea what you were talking about. 

“The suppressants work well.” Minho continues working. “You would know if you smelt us.”

“Burnt and sickly sweet right?” You recall what Felix said that day.

“Yes.” Minho answers again, this time looking at Changbin he nods sheepishly. Almost looking disgusted with himself. 

“Can I smell you?” 

“What?” Changbins head shoots up to look at you. 

“You want to smell us?” Minho, finally forgoes the cooking to fully face you. 

“Haven’t you smelt us before?” Changbin tries to deflect.

“Maybe, but I’ve never noticed anything… ‘offensive’ coming from you two.” You explain. “So I want to check for myself.”

They exchange panicked expressions. 

“You don’t have to, but I would like to.” Your petulant pout adorned on your face.

Eventually Changbin speaks up, “We, uh don't mind. We’re just worried about you.”

“I promise I will not throw up.” You chuckled at them. 

“Ok but don’t say we didn’t warn you.” Minho shakes his head in disbelief.

They cautiously make their way around the couch, coming to stand in front of you. 

“Who first?” You exclaim cheerfully. Once again they exchange weary looks then roll their eyes at your nonchalant attitude of this impending wave of disgust to hit you. 

“Me.” Minho kneels on the floor, making it easy to get close enough to his scent gland without causing you too much physical strain. You shift forward, leaning into his neck making sure not to make any contact. You give a hesitant sniff, the suppressants they are on must be really strong. You inch closer, taking a deep inhale. 

The smell hits you instantly. You keep a straight face.

“Changbin.” 

By the gods you managed to get your voice out in a steady tone.

Changbin follows his hyungs position, Minho now standing to observe. 

This time knowing how close you needed to be to actually smell their pheromones, you move right away. Leaning in and taking a second deep inhale of the night. 

Your face blanks, as they now stand together waiting for your definite repulsion. You take a moment, not able to see the look of dejection on their face. 

“Well…It was undeniably you two that I smelt on the roof.” You finally manage. “But I need to ask you both something. When I used my Prime voice on the alphas, and when you came in contact with my heat pheromones, what was running through your minds?” 

They looked at you quizzically, “we…our instincts wanted to protect you. That’s what we were thinking.. Well we weren’t actually. Our alpha instincts took over.”

“As for the voice… I don’t know how to explain how we felt but… it was like if someone didn’t obey it we would make them? Almost giddy, I guess.” 

An airy laugh leaves you. “That’s new. How many more surprises are there gonna be with you two?”

“What-? Our scents?” Changbin redirects back to their previous worry.

“I’m glad you guys take suppressants, because you have the most delicious pheromones I’ve ever smelt in my life.” 

“Did the doctor check to see if you hit your head?”

“Ok, rude.” You huff. “I am never giving you a compliment ever again.”

“You’re sure it was us?” Changbin points between them.

“Yea. 1000%, like a puff pastry with powdered sugar on top and toasted chestnuts in the  morning wrapped in clean linen.” You pout, body slouched back on the couch angrily.

“We’ve never heard those before.” 

“Well, I'm sorry to burst your gross bubble, but you two don’t smell gross.” Shrugging them off you turn your attention to a new curiosity. “What’s for lunch?” 

----

Over the next few days none of you bring up the pheromone conversation again, nor do you bring up their reactions to your Omega. It does however continue to remain an inquiry for you. You wait patiently for today to finally ask someone about it. Cast changing day. 

You let your doctor remove your cast, asking you pain questions and general health ones. As he is casting the new one you finally let yourself ask.

“What would it mean if an alpha didn’t respond to an Omega Prime voice?” The nonchalance in your voice is clear. 

“That would depend, was it intentionally directed to avoid them or was it an all for one?” Keeping his eyes trained down, his hands don’t stop moving, wrapping the bands around your calf.

You let yourself think over the situation before answering.“Since it couldn’t have been properly controlled, let’s say all for one.”

“Well…..”

“Hm.” You contemplate his words. “And what if an alphas' instinct was to protect instead of mount, with an omega in heat?”

“Please don’t say mount.” He grimaced, eyes still down but hands pausing briefly to show his dislike even more than with just his face.

“Aright, instead of ‘try to take by force’.” You stifle your laugh, but continue in your questioning. 

“It would suggest…..”

“Uh huh.” You struggled to take in his answers, but the gist of it wasn’t lost on you. “Last question, what if an alphas pheromones and natural scent was repulsive to everyone around then except one omega, to that omega they smelt really good. What would that suggest?” 

“Why are you so weird today?” He stands to examine your face, finally looking at you. He knew something was going on, it’s not like you were hiding it.

“More than normal?” You give an over exaggerated grin. 

He stares at you blankly for a moment, like he’s considering letting you feign ignorance or pushing you for information. Luckily he doesn’t take too long to decide, he already knows if you’re going to tell him you will. 

“No.” Is his final answer. “It would most likely mean…..”

“Ah.” You flomp back on the mattress, eyes now trained to the ceiling. Your face scrunches up in annoyance as you piece the puzzle together. A puzzle you never asked to have to deal with. You didn’t like complicated things like this, you preferred simple and easy to push along.

“What is this all about?” He sounds worried, he was always worried.

“I think I may have found….”

----

The mindless boredom you had begun to feel while stuck at home, was starting to give you an anxious itch. If you were right about it, and the information your doctor told you did in fact back that up, it would be a time if the boys found out. 

So you kept quiet, no issues if you didn’t bring it up. Clearly they thought differently.

“We think something is going on.” Changbin announces from your kitchen. They had come over together to help you complete some work and make you dinner. Felix had something come up and they had volunteered. 

“Well I’m hoping it’s not something bad with my food.” You nonchalantly throw over your shoulder, fingers typing away on your laptop from the couch. 

Your nest still a mess on the floor. Felix had offered to fix it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to let him. Something was still missing.

“With the three of us.” Minho finishes. AH, so they noticed something. Your hands still, recline back arm over the back of the couch, you lounge out. 

“And what exactly is happening?” You inquire, body calm, mind ready to receive any information they might have dug up.

They gave each other a mild once over before exchanging a nod. Approaching you with hesitant energy but sure steps. You could smell them stronger than normal today, maybe that was because they were nervous? Or maybe because your Omega was trying to smell them out? Either way, you ignored it.

“We’ve done some research.” Minho supplies. “About you not finding our smells repulsing.” 

“The only things we could find are research papers on the idea of the rarities of fated mates.” The words come out of changbin so fast you’re surprised you even understand it. 

“It’s a possibility that one of us could be your fated mate.” Minho simplifies. 

“Smart boys.” You chuckle. “Looks like we’ve come to the same conclusion then.”

They stare at you dumbfounded. 

“I was also curious about my Omega pheromones having certain effects on your alpha instincts.” You continue. “And it seems they have also indicated that. However, I’ll tell you both now. Just because it appears that way doesn’t mean I’m about to jump on either of you.” 

“We get that. We just want to make sure we're all on the same page with what this could possibly entail for us.” Minho confides, emphasizing their sincerity. These boys knew you well enough and what your view was on ‘mates’. 

You sigh heavily, how was the idea of the possibility of having a fated mate this exhausting? 

“And we want to be honest..” Changbin directs your attention. “We both have felt drawn to you. If this possibility was right and you felt something for one of us over the other, we’d be ok with that. But we also don't want you to feel like you have to do anything.”

You gave them a soft smile. “Thank you boys. If it had to possibly be anyone, I’m glad it was you two.” 

Upon some form of conclusion for the night, they helped you hobble over to the kitchen table to eat for the night. 

But there was still a lingering thought playing in the back of your mind that you couldn’t quite settle.

----

“A FATED PAIR?!” Felix screeched excitedly from the other end of your couch, flailing pillows and plushies toward you.

“The possibility of a fated pair.” You correct, dodging each oft blow with a giggle. You knew he would have an over the top reaction, which honestly was one of the reasons why you did want to tell him, but also you didn’t want to spend the evening answering his million questions.  

“But TWO?!” His excitement wasn't about to die down. “Holy shit. How are you going to choose?”

“Lix, I’m not going to choose.” You hush him, wanting to bring an end to this interrogation. “Listen, I won’t choose someone just because my omega wants me to. I need to actually like the person first. I need to know them.”

“It’s Changbin and Minho.” He reminds, giving you a pointed look.

“I know, but you and I both know how badly couples can end just because they go along with their sub genders needs. I’d rather be sure.” You recall past mutual friends of yours and how disastrous their situations turned out when they let their instincts fully take over. It had left the friend group shattered with no amount of apologizing and forgiveness could mend what had been hurt.

“So you are going to pick one of them?” He still pushes.

“I’m not saying yes and I’m not saying no.” You finish, huffing before mumbling to yourself. “We could still be wrong.”

----

Work had called you asking if you could come in, there was a specifically rude alpha writer that demanded the editors who worked on his last piece to be there. He had first come in requesting only Alphas to work on his writing. The manager had told him that they would do the best they could but they had limited Alphas available. The top editors in the firm were you, two other omegas, an alpha and a beta. However, that didn't seem to be good enough.

Apparently he had just realized that it was 3 omegas who had been credited for the editorial, even though the 3 of you had also worked on his previous project. To top it off he was also very into his hierarchy of the subgenders. 

Thankfully for you, you had just entered the free standing boot phase of your recovery. You hobbled into the firm, the receptionist welcoming you back, and warning you of what might be in the conference room. She also let you know a little piece of extra information about said writer. He was a dominant alpha male.

Upon entering the room you are enveloped with the intense heavy set musk of dominant pheromones. The need to vomit crept up on you, leaving a nasty taste in your mouth.

“Sorry for being late,” You respond normally, pretending not to notice the provoked alpha on the far side of the room. Not to mention, the two omega editors cowering in at the side table, looking meek and shaking in their chairs. “I’m still a little slow on my feet.” 

Your Alpha manager rushed over to you to help you alongside the others, the shallow tremble in him didn’t go unnoticed. “No worries, y/n we were just going over the issue.”

“Is there an issue?” You ask cheerfully. First you get a read on the hostile energy. The dominant alpha stands tall, smug expression on his face as he watches everyone in the room struggle to keep themselves together. 

“I would say there is, omega.” His voice instantly makes your brain itch, and not in a good way. Gross. Also his need to identify your sub gender to the room really tests your ability to hold your eyes from rolling. “I requested alpha editors to be a part of the project, not three omegas. I need my work to be looked over carefully and with exceptional skills. I am sure you three are adequate but I don’t like being kept in the dark about my own work.” 

You pretend to mull over his words, this man clearly needs others to bow down and grovel at his feet. 

What an unfortunate choice for him.

“As I recall your novel hit #1 on the charts for 4 weeks and it was completed before the deadline.” Your professionalism is on full display. “I am sorry if you do not feel that your work has been properly looked after. But our firm never promised for an alpha only team, just as you did not feel the need to read over the creditors before releasing. On all the paperwork you were given about the piece, our names and subgenders were clearly marked. You did not raise a complaint nor concern at the time.”

“So you’re saying that was my neglect then, Omega?” His vocal demeanor changes to a lower tone, rasping out as the room spikes with more pheromones. He evidently was trying to will you to submit, which once again was unfortunate. 

“Could you please not refer to me by my subgender, I do have a name.” You sigh, how annoying.

“You don’t like to be reminded that you are an Omega?” It almost comes out as a snarl at this point. This time you can’t stop from rolling your eyes. 

You push the rollie chair away from the table, turning to face him front on. You side glance over to you manager, then to the antagonistic male then back. Asking for permission, you could see him struggle to nod. The Dominant pheromones now getting to his inner alpha, his instincts fighting to not submit either. You look at your fellow omegas and they are truly a mess. Tears streaming down their faces, heads down, already submitted a time ago. 

“It’s not that I need a reminder. I am very well aware of what I am.” You stated coldly. “You, however, need to be educated.”

His sick chortle of a laugh fills the room. One you were more than happy to silence.

Your Prime voice ready to extinguish his joy.

“SIT.” 

He’s instantly on the ground, mid laugh causing him to choke. 

“CRAWL.” 

You watch him fight against his body, as he trembles onto hands and knees moving towards you. When he’s close enough for your amusement, you hear the omegas behind you stop crying. You can also hear your manager finally take a deep breath. 

“STOP.” 

He sits there on the dirty carpeted floor in his stupid looking designer suit at your feet. You stay seated, comfily reclined in your chair. 

“The only reason this firm worked on your piece in the first place was because it was a favour for your uncle. The amount of work that went into salvaging that piece of crap you spewed is ridiculous. Not to mention no other firm would work with you.” You reprimanded. “You should feel thankful that our manager agreed to it, thankful that you had two of the most professional and invaluable editors we have.”

“You are free to go to another firm, at this point we’d all be grateful if you did. I will remind you, Omega or not you have NO RIGHT to compromise another with your pheromones. It is against the law and we will not hesitate to file against you. Understood?” 

Your eyes glower at him with the intensity of a Prime, he nods sheepishly. 

“Now apologize to my coworkers and manager for wasting their time and disrespecting this firm.” 

His hurried words of begging for forgiveness meant nothing to you. You watched him collect himself and retreat out of the room. The omegas hugging you in thanks.

“I’m surprised you were able to hold off from that alpha. You made it look so easy.” They seemed mesmerized by you. 

“It was.” You stated confidently. “They're not my Alpha.”

----

“A horde of alphas isn’t enough for you? Now you’re tackling aggravated dominants?” Your doctor insisted on an omega specific checkup. Even for you, over exerting yourself while still healing could be dangerous.

“It was only one this time.” You mutter, back in his office once again. You swore you might as well live here with how often you keep showing up. The receptionists and cleaning man were all on a first name basis with you.

“Does your alpha know that you’re making dominants submit to you?” He muses from his desk, looking over your test results.

“My what?” You try to contain your shock, but then again he could read you pretty well. 

He gives you a ‘cmon really’ type of stare, “I’ve known you long enough to know you don’t ask questions unless they’re relevant and of interest. It’s easy enough to put two and two together.” He stands to place the blood pressure wrap around your arm. “So how does your alpha feel about it?”

“They’re thrilled.” You stone face, eyes locked on your arm.

“Really?” 

“Giddy even.” You pout defiantly. 

“I know it’s a touchy subject, but do you have any plans to mate with them?” You could hear the sincerity in his voice. You didn’t want to hide anything from him, if anything he would be the one to help you figure it all out. 

“I-There’s two.” You look up at him.

“Two?” He gives you a perplexed look, before lightly chuckling. “You definitely don’t make things easy.”

“Yea yea. I’m the definition of the perfect patient.” You roll your eyes, a smile breaking out on your lips.

“This might be an idea, but maybe you should test their scents against your heat?” He suggests, pulling the monitor away.

“...how would I do that?” 

“Well, your heat is coming up shortly so I would say to ask each of them for something to have with you during it. If your Omega reacts more to one scent then the other you know at least you know where part of you stands.” 

That could be a piece of the puzzle you could use.

----

A day out. You desperately needed a day out, especially with your heat approaching. Bless Felix for planning with everyone to finally get you out of the house. And like the bundle of sunshine he was, he decided it would be best to hit up all your favourite local pier. One that happened to be equipped with a few rides, bowling alleys, mini golfing courses and other small activities. 

Of course the first plan of attack was a couple of the rides, your boot and all slugging into mechanisms. The last one being a sort of enclosed type tilt-a-whirl, which to be fair did have some pretty steep drops. The line was a little longer for this one, so you all cued together. When you got to the front of the line you had just begun sorting into smaller groups.

“I’ll sit with Changbin and Minho” you volunteer, hand raising in the air. The two started to pack themselves into the enclosed bubble.

“Really?” Seungmin quips almost astounded that someone would want to. You roll your eyes, heading to follow them in.

“It’s groups of 3, and there’s 9 of us. Does anyone else want to be crammed in a tight space with them?” You challenge, the look of horror on their faces was more than enough as an answer. “Exactly.”

As you begin to enter the ride Minho holds his hand out for you, steadying you as you step over the gap. Changbin, waits for you to sit before closing the door behind you. 

“Are you sure y/n?” Changbin asks, settling himself across from you. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.” Your tone annoyed but strong. “I like your scents, even if there was someone else wanting to come in with you I’d still be here.” 

Minho turns away to try to hide the smile on his face, changbins sheepish smile is turned down to the floor. You couldn’t help admiring how cute they were. 

How did you not notice that before? ….. you knew, being one disappointment after another you had turned off and locked down your omega. Becoming unable to view anyone as anything more than a friend. It was safer that way. In your old world only other primes were eligible for you to mate with. But maybe now it was time to turn it back on, let yourself notice things, let the possibilities in.

“Oh I wanted to ask you guys a favour.” You pull them back, the ride slowly inching forward to let the next 3 in. “I don’t know if Felix mentioned it but my heat is starting in a couple days and -“

“We know.” Changbin cuts in. “Uh, we know but Felix didn’t tell us.” 

You eye him for a moment, there was something he wasn’t saying. You glance at Minho.

“We can smell it.” Minho to the rescue.

“Smell it?” You give yourself a quick sniff. You couldn’t smell anything. At least you don’t normally until the day of. “Huh. Ok? Well I was wondering if I could borrow something from each of you during my heat?”

Their eyes spring back to you. Shock is not the right word to explain what you see. 

“My doctor told me to test my omega. It’s been mostly dormant for a long time because of my upbringing, so if there is something going on with us” you motion in a triangle “seeing the reaction my base instincts might be helpful, you know? My omega might gravitate toward one of you.”

You could see it in their faces that they were contemplating your words carefully.

“I mean, it does make sense.” Minho agrees.

“But what about you not being swayed by your omegas needs? Your choice?” Changbin seemed concerned.

“I will not let my omega mount either of you before this me decides how we might feel.” You give them the Boy Scout salute. 

“Mount?” Changbin bursts into a full laugh. Finally the mood lightens again. The three of you buzzing by the time the ride actually gets into full swing. You and changbin both needing to hold onto Minho as he yells about wanting to get off. Changbin just screams incoherently and you can’t stop laughing. 

Thankfully the rides controller takes pity on them and slows it down to let your group off. Both boys stumble out but still manage to help you off. The rest of your entourage wanting to go again.

You decide to head into the building that holds the bowling alley, your incline down the last steps proves to be a little slippery as your booted foot slides out from under you.

The impact with your ass and the carpeted floor makes you grunt. They both let out maniacal fits of laughter at your landing. 

“Ha.Ha. Help me.” You demand, pout uncontrollably appearing.

“Watch out if we don’t help her back up she might use her prime voice on us.” 

“Yea because that worked so well last time” you rolled your eyes and huffed. Thankfully they still help you into a seat next to an unused lane. “Besides, if anything it would just make you two high or something.”

“What do you mean?” That causes them to stop laughing.

“Apparently it’s another possibility. That being fated to a prime means the voice doesn’t work on you like other people. Alphas have no choice, their inner alpha hates it. Like nails on a chalkboard. But with fated it hits the serotonin and dopamine thrill.” You smirk, flashing them bright eyes batting your eyelashes. 

“Our own personal dealer?” Minho chides.

“Nice.” Changbin retorts, they high five. “I’ll grab you shoes….or a shoe.”

“I’ll grab drinks. You.” He points to you, then your chair.

You wave him off in indifference to scan around the alley. You guys hadn’t been here in almost a year. It was almost scary how it hadn’t changed at all. Still a musky smell of ocean water, easy pizza and burgers, as well as a hint of BO. The workers were younger than you remembered, but you were also older than you remembered. Chuckling to yourself at the nostalgia. Your eyes find their way over to Minho in the line for the concession. 

His broad back and slender waist turned to you. He wasn’t as slim as a lot of the members, Ji specifically. No one could beat that man's waist. He never really wore shirts that were tight fitted, which in hindsight could be quite a shame….that went for Changbin too. Minho was taller, with sharp features, but still soft to look at. But that was him, wasn’t it?

He looked cold from the surface, not really responding or speaking but he was extremely observant. If you had to guess his love language would definitely be acts of service. He wasn’t good at accepting compliments, which made it all the more fun to dish out. Watching the blush creep up his face as he tries to hide it. He really was dependable. There was no doubt about that in your mind. He had such a deep caring nature for those he cared about, anyone would be lucky to be bonded with him.

Just as you fall deeper into his silhouette, Changbin appears in front of you.

“Shoe!” He chimes cheerfully. A single show for you and two pairs for them. Before you can say anything in response he’s down on one knee in front of you. 

Pulling your good foot by your ankle he rests it on his leg, untying the laces and slipping your foot out. He’s extremely fluid and delicate in his movements, it’s weirdly mesmerizing. His strong hand reaches over to grab the single bowling shoe, sliding onto your foot with ease. 

How did he know your shoe size? You’re sure that’s something you’ve never brought up before. You can see the top of his bleach dyed hair, his roots vaguely noticeable. Another observant one, he and Minho clearly shared that in common. However he seemed more like a words of affirmation type… He always knew exactly what to say in any situation. Always knew how to make someone feel better, he was truthful in a way that seemed more uplifting even with sour news. His shoulders were broader than your other friends, his ability to gain muscle was something to be desired for sure. His obvious soft eyes could turn fierce in a second if he felt he had to. 

It took everything in you to not reach out to feel his hair run through your fingers. 

And just like that you snap back out. Your shoe on and laced up, and Changbin standing to accept his drink from Minho. Minho doesn’t say anything as he places a drink down next to you. You peer over at it not sure what you were expecting as you hadn't told him what you wanted. 

He notices you staring at your cup. 

“Water.” He states, sipping on his drink. “Too much caffeine doesn’t sit well before your heat.”

He turns away, both men now replacing their shoes. They had moved on to another conversation. But you felt stuck.

‘Water…water…’

How did he know caffeine makes you feel gross during your heat period? You’ve only ever mentioned it to Felix. Did Felix tell Minho about the caffeine? Did Felix tell Changbin your shoe size? How did they know…. When did they know?

Just as your minding your words to ask them about it, the others in your group come barrelling down the stairs. Laughter stealing your attention, maybe later. You’d ask them later.

----

Later your ass. You never did get round to asking, your mind in a sort of whirlwind since. But still  the day before your heat Minho and Changbin showed up at your apartment, they both had decided the best thing to give you were one of the most worn hoodies. Apparently Felix told them you tended to get really cold between waves of need. Changbin had brought a black one and Minhos was a light gray. They had made sure the day leading up to they had worn them without taking suppressants. So they slept, ate, worked out (per your request) in the hoodies. 

You thanked them, letting them know you’d wash them before returning and you were sorry for however state they ended up. They laughed and said they knew what they had agreed to. 

And with that you locked yourself away, awaiting the pain and insufferability of going through your heat alone again.

Your doctor's idea was a good one….well it would have been if you were someone else.

----

The day after your heat ended you had managed to clean yourself and your apartment up. Your fridge was now empty of the premade meals that Felix had given you. Now understanding why they had an underlying smell of a bakery, Minho was the one who made them for you.

You had your answer post heat, but did it really change anything? Should you tell your doctor? Felix? Changbin and Minho? 

You were already emotionally mentally and physically exhausted, but this was just ready to make your head explode. Deciding fuck it, you placed both sweaters unwashed in sealed bags. Keeping them separate from each other and from stinking up the whole building. Throwing them in your backpack and slinging it over your shoulder. You texted Minho asking if they were both home stating you had to talk to them. He instantly replied that they were and you could come over anytime.

You rushed to get your shoes on and head over to their shared apartment. Of course they would share, now it makes more sense because of their pheromones and your understanding of them. Clearly something you once again didn’t notice before.

Your fist against the door sounds a lot more aggressive than you meant it to be. Changbin opens the door, almost taking you by surprise, but don’t let it stop you. Dropping your backpack onto the middle of their living room floor. 

“Are you ok?” Minho questions quickly. “You smell…sour?”

“Did something go wrong?” Changbins clearly worried. They both are. 

“No…well…it did tell me…things, I guess.” You fumble your words, which is most definitely not like you. “I just had to get out of there. I was thinking too loudly.”

“We get it, it’s a lot to ask of you” Minho reassures. Why did that make you feel even shittier?

“My backpack.” You look down to the mass on the floor. “I brought your sweaters back…”

“Before you say anything y/n.” Changbin walks across the room to you. “We have a favour we’d like to ask of you. Or at least we hope it could help?”

“We were thinking, what if we each took an item from you for out ruts?” Minho joined him in front of you. “It might not be the same as your heat, but at least you’d be reassured on our end that our alphas are 100% wanting this. Just like…..we are.”

“You-?” Fumbled, seriously now was not the time to lose your ability with words. 

“We both have genuine feelings for you. Alphas or not. People to people. If we could have it our way, honestly we’d be willing if you wanted both of us. Our alphas agree…” Changbin smiles softly. 

You take a step back, baffled by them. Two of the most capable human beings wanted you, you as a person. Not because you were a prime…and their alphas wanted to be with you too. Alphas wanting to be with a Prime, not only that but share? This was beyond a possibility. This was impossible. You let out a dry airy chuckle, now standing confident to face them.

“In my backpack, are your hoodies. I didn’t wash them.” From confusion to mischief, the look in your eyes hypnotizes them. You reach down, pulling out each sealed ziploc piece of clothing. Tossing them at the males they catch them effortlessly, without looking away from you. 

“I think I’ll let you find out for yourselves.” 

They blink themselves back, glancing down to the packages in their hands. You see their jaws lock in place. Could it be worry, or they’re both ready for their chance to be disappointed or is it the thought of being able to smell what you smelt like during your heat. 

Regardless it didn’t matter now. You all needed answers, you had heard theirs. Now they need to know yours.

Hesitantly, with shaking hands they open the bags in unisent, letting the smells intrapped inside to explode out. They both swallowed down a lump in their throats. You can see them inhale deeply and shudder. Something about watching them on edge, waiting for their answer, both wanting awakens your omega. Instead of fighting them down you let them watch, to take in the sights and scents with you. You can feel your left eye be taken over by your omega. For the first time, in your life your omega and you were working together. 

During your heat you found a harmony within yourself you didn’t know you could have. 

Changbins shoulders roll back as the stress vein on Minho's neck protrudes. They reach in, taking a moment to look at each other exchanging a nod and pulling the garments out. The fusion of your scent on full blast and theirs erupts. It feels so thick it will probably stick to every surface in their apartment.  

They scan over their individual pieces, you can see when they and their alphas understand what they are holding in their hands. Your omega purrs, feeling the pheromones of a pleased alphas circulating. They both hear it when you let the sound come out of your mouth. One eye normal, one omega taken. 

“It’s difficult to wear two hoodies at all times.” Your voice sultry, vibrating with the purr from your chest. “Maybe one of you should give me some pants next time.” 

You smile widely at them. Their alphas are just as shocked as they are, looking to each other and what's in their hands it sinks in. 

You wore both. The whole time your omega needed an alpha, you clung to both. You used both to fight for release. 

“Or how about instead, you both join me?” You smirk. “Because I’ve already starting falling for both of you.” 

The smile on their faces was beyond breathtaking. To think you might have missed this. You never wanted to miss this. Miss them. 

The possibility seemed so unreal months ago, but now could only have been a definite since the beginning. 

masterlist

[fandomfluffandfuck]

legit begging you to expand on sillysicklys subpiling post bc i luv luv luv it and i wanna reaad more but im a shit writer :((((((

related to this

@sillysickly get over here, you'll enjoy this, lol 😏

Aw, baby, I'm sure you're not a shit writer! You can do it!

I will happily dive back into the concept of subpiling with an excuse such as this, though 👀

In the previous installments (that are linked in the related post, seen above), I made up an AU where Steve and Bucky are both subs in a sleazy, rundown sort of small-town, but what's the fun of writing if not just randomly making new shit up constantly, so... this isn't exactly in that same 'verse, I could probably do some writerly bullshit magic to connect it, but, let's be honest, this is mostly just subpiling for the sake of subpiling.

Our boys--both of them sweet, silly subs--become aware of each other at no other place than the gym. Ironically, the reason each of them is drawn to the other is the same. Steve and Bucky both steal heated glances, quick elevator eyes up and down, using the mirrors everywhere to their advantage, maybe even delaying or speeding up their workouts to end up in the locker room at the same time, maybe even the showers, and end up assessing the situation of tight workout gear, bulging muscles, bared, flushed skin, and glistening sweat to come to the conclusion of--shit, that guy has to be a top, if not an outright dom, and I fucking need him.

And all that is not to even mention the sounds! Steve and Bucky both lift extensively and with all that weight, grunts and groans are bound to slip out from between gritted teeth, jaws are bound to get set into an unfairly sharp square, clenched, that makes it impossible not to imagine the same tension-filled, almost pained expression and the same fucking guttural sound of struggle while he's on top of him. So overwhelmed by his tightness and fucking plowing into him, putting all that gym-honed strength to good use, making his brain drip out of his ears, forgetting everything but the way it feels, teeth-rattling, orgasm-chasing, ah, ah, ah. Surrounded by the sex-thick scent of it all, musky and sweaty, purely fucking manly. They both want it bad.

Each of them--Bucky and Steve--want to get pounded through the mattress by the other. Pitty, if only these sweet, dumb muffins knew the truth...

It doesn't take them too long to find out, though. Just a few short weeks of watching, waiting, occasionally locking eyes, bumping into each other too many times for it to be pure coincidence, and, oops, somehow they end up in the sauna together, post-workout, the last of the late-night stragglers.

The reason it's even taken a few weeks for them to finally end up totally alone together is because each of them is expecting the other to take charge and make a move. But, that's not happened. Even in the sauna together, alone, sure to not be interrupted, nothing happens right away. The steam billows around them, clouding them--crowding them, and still they're so shy. Steve's blushing worse now than he does on his PR, limit-pushing days, and that pretty color drips down his body from his face all the way to his toned stomach. He's painted like an obscene sunset. And the only reason Bucky can't tell if his flush goes farther is because of the towel cinched tight at his hips. Bucky keeps squirming in his own seat, just an inappropriately short way away, spreading his legs, then drawing them back together, effectively alternating between obscenely squeezing his thighs together to put pressure on his antsy dick and spreading it to expose the way his dick is pushing against his own towel.

They can't fucking get it together.

Each of them is practically vibrating out of their skin with untapped energy, heavily charged and so ready to go, until Steve fucking snaps in response to Bucky's pushy little scoots, getting closer and closer and closer until their sweaty, slick thighs are pressed together. Their towels barely cover half of their upper legs, so they both gasp, skin to skin for the first time. It's then that Steve breaks the standstill by snaking one big hand up between them and curling his surprisingly deft fingers around Bucky's chin, turning his head toward him, and...

Leaning in.

Their lips crash together urgently and uncoordinatedly. Steve has to tilt his head to the side to stop their noses from hitting. Bucky's open-mouthed gasp makes his teeth dig into Steve's fat lower lip. Still, God, it's good. It's hot. Immediately, they're both hotter than they can take--shivering with the fever lapping at them, boiling them alive in the sauna.

Steve kisses hard. Bucky kisses back just as viciously. And the sounds of their lips moving together make it hard for them both to breathe. When Steve can't bear just kissing, lips on lips, as desperate as it is, he lets his jaw go slack and licks explicitly into Bucky's mouth, teasing his tongue against his lips until he gets with the program and eagerly, needily lets him in. Yielding like butter to a hot knife.

Jesus Christ.

Steve fucks his mouth with his tongue, so fucking hot for it that it's practically unbearable, even catching Bucky's lip with his teeth, nipping, teasing, but all that well-practiced-skill is destroyed the moment Bucky reciprocates with just the barest hint of force. Steve is weak for it. Bucky sucking on his tongue leaves him raggedly moaning, then whining when Bucky places a heavy hand on his thigh. He's sweating so badly that it's a pure, sensationally erotic glide when Bucky lets his hand explore higher.

Up, up, up he pushes and Steve melts accordingly. Bucky can fucking touch him anywhere, just so much as he keeps fucking touching him. Oh, God. He rucks up his towel but gets tangled somewhere along the way, so he isn't touching him directly anymore. Noo, Steve whines, his mouth going slack and wet, hardly kissing anymore, just letting himself be kissed, open and needy, as Bucky palms his dick through his towel.

Bucky keeps kissing him, his mouth sizzling and dirtily sliding across his face, more kissing the side of his mouth than locking on. It makes it all worse. Better. Steve feels smeared and he can't help but slouch against the sauna bench, letting the wood take his full weight--muscles and all.

As it turns out, though, just from cupping his dick, Bucky's just as weakened. So, his mouth gets sloppy, too. Hardly putting any effort into crashing together, just letting his lips gape, weakened as he hazily feels him up. Mouth to mouth, breathing each other in, panting, huge chests heaving together.

He's so big.

Bucky can't help but whine into Steve's sweaty, burning cheek, nuzzling against his body. His mouth is watering. He wants that in him. It feels so big and it's so thick in his hand, and, guh--immediately, Bucky's fighting to blink his eyes open and stare, unashamed, down at what Steve's packing between his muscular thighs.

Bucky just fucking paws at him, clumsy, until his towel is out of the way.

He's fucking stunned.

It looks heavy.

It'd fill him up so good.

Bucky whines, aching for Steve's dick, he wants to be fucked hard. But his sound hits Steve's ears like a punch to the gut, going straight to his dick, and so he's whining, too. Messy and high-pitched, a true fuck-me whine.

They're debilitated by arousal together, fucked up, staring at each other. Somehow both of them are already cock drunk, eyelids drooping, mouths red, swollen, and hanging open, their coordination shot to shit. They're just turning into a puddle, all the heat going straight to their muscles and bones, melting them down. Melting them into each other.

Somehow, Steve manages to clamber back to his senses enough to realize that someone has to be on top (someone has to do something!) and, he, he's fucking seen the size of Bucky, his chest and arms and thighs and--he's suddenly frantically scrambling to pull Bucky into his lap, he wants him on top of him, pressing him down, grinding into him, fucking him. But, Bucky's skin is slick with sweat from the workout, from the sauna, from the sexual tension snapping between them, and Steve just can't get a grip. It doesn't help that Bucky's out of his mind, squirming, and he just doesn't make it into his lap. Not really. The closest he gets--his towel, too, gets tangled up and falling away--is half in, half out. He's precariously balanced, his face smashed into his chest with his back arched as his humid pants paint condensation across Steve's skin. Smushed and tangled up like that, somehow, his legs are split, straddling one of Steve's thighs, and his dick is right there.

Oh, shit.

He's hard. He's so hard. It makes Steve crave having it shoved inside him, big and thick and he's not as long as some of the men Steve's taken but he's thicker. Steve can fucking feel the throbbing girth of it, pressed insistently against his thigh. Bucky feels it too because instantly he's squirming worse. Arching his back, spreading his thighs like a slut, and making his dick slide smoothly against his sweat-slick thigh.

Half in his lap, half falling out of it, Bucky starts humping his thigh.

It feels so good, his skin is smooth, Jesus, somewhere in the back of Bucky's mind, he's wondering if Steve gets waxed or some shit because he's so smooth and soft and the friction is friction--it's heated, desperate drag, skin on skin--but it's so effortless, too. Smooth. Slick. Silky and almost oiled. He can hardly stand it. It's so good, but, fuck, when things are good, Bucky greedily wants more and things are fucking great when he's filled one way or another. Something in his ass. Something in his mouth. It doesn't matter. He just wants something inside him. It's what he was made for. Filling.

He wants to get filled so much that as he's riding his thigh, sweat-slippery, barely holding on, his mouth opens wider on instinct, and then Bucky's mouthing and lapping at the swell of Steve's chest. Face-first in his tits, licking his skin, salty and hot like heaven on his tongue. Bucky can't think to slide down further and start laving attention to Steve's hard, pink nipples. He's just thinking about how good it feels. How good Steve feels underneath him. How good it is to rut and hump mindlessly.

Used and defiled so thoroughly--Bucky's dick hot pushed up against his thigh and his face smashed into his built chest--Steve throws his head back wantonly. He can barely hang onto the squirming desperate thing in his lap as squirming and desperate as he himself is.

Steve's hands are shaking where they rest on Bucky's feverish skin. Steve's body has gone limp despite his aching dick. His dick keeps twitching and he can feel Bucky's saliva drooling onto his skin--he knows he's staring down at it where it's pointed straight up at him,, dripping against his clenched stomach, so hard and ready to be used while Bucky struggles and whines for it. Steve knows Bucky wants to be fucked. Bucky knows Steve wants to be fucked. They both know there's not a goddamn thing to be done about it. They can't stop. They don't know how. They just don't know what the fuck to dooo! It's incredible; it's agony.

Bucky can't stop looking, he can't stop forgetting himself and shutting his eyes tight, riding the pleasure as it crashes through him. Devastating. He wants Steve's cock in his mouth, he's so thirsty, craving Steve's big hands in his hair, pushing and forcing him down to level with it, knees hitting the floor hard. But Steve isn't controlling or forcing or steering in any way. He can't manage it! Normally when he hooks up, he's the one being forced--not forcing.

They're on the same side and it doesn't work. Yet, it's beyond good. It's humiliating--how hot this is. Stuck. Trapped by their shared instinct to sit back and be used like dolls. Limp and boneless, both of them so fucked and yet so not fucked, they stay lost in pleasure exactly where they are.

Steve doesn't know what to do! He has this gorgeous boy on top of him, all hot and loose, uncoordinated and hurried and his mouth is so near his nipples and Steve wants him to touch his tits but he can't stutter the words out, so he just writhes, painstakingly indulged and denied by in the not-enough, too-tantalizing sensation of a cock thick and hot against his thigh. He wants a cock in him! He wants a mouth on his nipples, sucking and biting and telling him exactly when to cum. He wants to be controlled, demanded of, and used. He is being used but not like normal and--

Ohhh, God.

It feels so good.

He doesn't fucking care.

His head spins he doesn't know what to do but slouch, boneless, and take it. His mind is completely empty, only left with steam, about as smart as a sauna himself. He could cum like this. He, he could--

He's gonna cum like this.

Now? Now? Is he allowed?

Oh, fuck--

Now.

So, uh, subpiling, am I right? 🥴🥴

[take-everything-you-can]

Yours Or Mine

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

A/N: So first let me just say it has been years since I've been inspired to write smut, but alas Eddie Munson has opened the floodgates. This will be the first installment of many to come as a sort of kink exploration series for Eddie and Reader. I just felt like the year anniversary of all of us loving this man would be the perfect time to post this!

I was so nervous to post this but I've had some amazing people in my corner. @astragreenwoode Thank you so much for everything that you do in editing my stories helping them flow effortlessly. I'm blessed to have you.

To the ever-so-lovely ladies @big-ope-vibes, @bimbobaggins69, and @munsonswife for beta reading and making me feel like posting this wasn't going to be the worst idea on the planet and letting me talk through my anxieties and slutty little Eddie thots.

also can't get over this amazing divider by @newlips

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem Reader ( Established relationship)

Word count: 3.9K

Tw: 18+ mdni (if you are underage gtfo this post .... seriously get lost) crude language, f receiving, m receiving, p in v sex unprotected ( pls use protection my people), subby switch if you squint, shower sex, needy Eddie I suppose, slight ball play, some soft dom Eddie

 

College ended up being harsher than you expected, but the full ride for the Cheerleading scholarship the school had given you was more than worth all the trouble you had to keep your grades up. You proudly proved to everyone that the whole ‘all cheerleaders are dumb’ stereotype was just that; an unfounded myth meant to diminish all those involved. After working your ass off throughout High School, you ended up picking one not too far from home. Having to care for your other six siblings alone was enough to drive your parents insane, so the fact that you were willing to make the commute made you an angel in their eyes.

Today ended up being especially exciting for two reasons; cheer practice would be held at your old high school, which also meant you were able to spend time with your beloved metalhead of a boyfriend. Your coach ended up dragging out practice to be longer and harsher than usual with seemingly endless drills and unnecessarily cruel critiques of your performance. It was a punishment for being late. 

Usually, that was something that would’ve set you off, but if you were being totally honest, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You welcomed it as a distraction for why exactly you came to practice so late. It was for a good reason, you swear; Eddie decided to take you on a ‘Side Quest,’ as he put it.

He took you on a small detour; pulling you into the nearest supply closet, out of the crowded hallway, and getting his hands on you as soon as possible. Almost as soon as he closed the door behind you, he used all his strength to pin you against the wood of the door. You giggled as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, leaving a torturously slow trail of pecks and nips up your jaw. He hungrily stopped at your lips, gently tugging your bottom lip with his teeth.

“Eddie. . .” you breathed out, trying your best to compose yourself as he dragged his hand from your cheek to the curve of your cleavage rising and falling with your heartbeat beneath your uniform. “We. . .we can’t do this right now, baby. I’m gonna be late. You’re gonna be late.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as the cold contrast of his rings on your bare cleavage made your body break out in goosebumps. His deep brown orbs started to darken as they threatened to pull you in and never let you go. As much as you wanted to just lean in and forget about the rest of the world outside this closet, you mustered all your strength to stop him from going forward. You giggled as you placed a hand on either side of his face, bringing his head up to make your lips touch.

“Later, Sweet Boy. I’ll still be here after practice, okay?” you whispered.

A small groan sounded from the back of Eddie’s throat; an incredibly needy sound as he pressed his forehead against yours. Even as he held onto you and batted his doe-like eyes to hypnotize you into staying, he didn’t go any further. He may be relentless, but he respects you.

“Ya promise?” he whined against your mouth.

You hummed in agreement, blindly dragging your hand around to find him as you hooked your pinkies together. He savored the kiss as long as you let him before you left the small room, wanting to imprint it in your minds to give both of you something to look forward to after you were finished with practice.

Around the time your team finished and made their way to the girl’s locker room, Eddie was fresh out of his latest session with the boys from Hellfire. You were the last one to take a shower as the other girls left, planning on meeting up with Eddie where he usually parked his van just like you did every Friday. But he had other plans today, ones that couldn’t wait any longer. As he watched the remaining members of Hellfire and the other members of your team leave the school parking lot, Eddie snuck back into the building to make sure you kept your earlier promise.

The Dungeon Master shamelessly walked into the girl’s locker room and his eyes locked on you as you were just peeling off the sweat-soaked cheer uniform. Every inch of you was flushed in tone; the bottom of your hair damp and your body was covered in a thin layer of sweat as you let your top fall to the floor. You let out a soft moan as you freed your sticky breasts from the confines of your bra. It was familiar to him; the same one he had thrown into the corner of your bedroom as he relentlessly took you to your peak just a few nights ago.

He debated on just staying there, watching you clean your body, but the twitch in his pants he got just from the sight of you told him otherwise. Eddie craved to get a taste of your salty, flushed skin before you had the chance to wipe yourself clean. He was never able to hold out from touching you for long, no matter how hard he had tried in the past. You were just as magnetic as the day he met you. What was it that people said? ‘Opposites Attract?’

Eddie leaned himself against the set of lockers closest to the showers, crossing his arms against his chest as he cleared his throat to capture your attention.

 You jumped in shock as you let out a quiet squeak. Instinctually, you used your arms to cover your chest as you turned around, not expecting anyone to be in here with you, especially not Eddie. But at the sight of him, you lowered your arms and sighed in relief but you rolled your eyes a bit. He was supposed to be cleaning out his van. He had told you it was trashed by the boys after a gig at The Hideout and said he would make sure the passenger side was clean before letting you ride in it this morning over the phone. He now stood before you, a gleam of awe in his eyes.

“See something you like, Munson?” you laughed out, turning so that you were innocently looking over your shoulder and gave him a little shake of your ass that made your cheer skirt follow.

The smirk on his face deepened and made his dimples stand more prominent on his face; it was a look he reserved just for you. He pushed himself off the lockers and slowly but surely made his way toward you.

“I sure do like what I see. But. . .you look like you could use a hand there, Sweetheart,” he purred, sticking his tongue out slightly between his teeth.

“Oh, really?” you teased, meandering your way over to meet him in the middle. He took your hand in his and allowed him to twirl you like you were waltzing, making the short little skirt that adorned your body send him into a trance. You watched his eyes size you up, trailing down from your head to your feet as you gripped the side of your skirt in frustration. How long was he going to take before holding you up on your promise?

“Yeah. . .what’s that old saying? ‘Reach out to lend a hand. . .not to bend the heart,’ or however the fuck it goes?” Eddie slithers his arms around your waist to pull your bare body flush against his clothed form, tilting his head as he gave your nose a small peck. He teasingly kissed either side of your mouth, before pulling you in to crash them against his.

“Fucking finally,” you thought to yourself; though, the heat in your belly only grew hotter now.

“Would you bend my heart, Eddie?” you whispered against his lips, almost as if telling him a secret.

“I wouldn’t dare, Princess. . .” he muttered back against you. As he made your heart flutter when his hands buried in the roots of your hair, Eddie twisted and turned your body around to bring your ass against his growing bulge. He pushed you against the shower's wall and made you arch your back, rough and gentle all at once.

“Now. . .bending you over, on the other hand. . .” he growled into your ear, sending a shiver straight down to your core as he lifted your skirt to reveal your pussy and ass practically swallowing your panties.

“That’s a whole ‘nother thing,” Eddie finished, giving your bare ass a tender slap that made you whine and jump.

The giggle that leaves you turns into a moan as he unwrapped his hand from your damp hair and tilted your head to mash his lips against yours once more. As he turns you around, the cold tile meets your back. Playing with the hem of his shirt before sliding your hand underneath it, you ghost over the trail of hair that led to the bulge in his pants now throbbing with desire. 

As you walk your fingers up his chest with a feather-light touch, you blindly trail over his tattoos engraved in your memory. You had spent many of your shared hours together tracing over the black lines etched into Eddie’s skin. On your laziest of days together, he used your body as a blank canvas to paint your skin a masterpiece of his own, purples and pinks staining your skin for days to come.

Smirking with mischief, you let your hand travel down to tease his cock by cupping him through his pants ever so slightly.

“. . .fuck,” Eddie stutters out, making you whine as he unlocks your lips. “I need to taste you... .now,” he spoke, his tone dangerously laced with need.

Eddie tugs you to sit on the small bench below the showerhead, lowering himself to his knees as he pulls your skirt and panties down. Gripping each thigh, he jerks you slightly forward to get a better angle before burying his face in between your legs. He kneads the soft meat of your thighs on either side, leaving small bruises in the shape of his fingertips and the tender marks of his teeth. Looking up at you with lust-blown eyes, he waits for your permission to continue, Once you give him the knowing nod of your head, he slows down as he notices just how drenched your pussy really is.

“Mmmm, such a pretty little pussy,” he mutters against you, torturously dragging his mouth everywhere but where you needed him to be.

“Tight, juicy, and all mine. Isn’t that right, baby?”

You gasp as you wait for him to touch you, frantically nodding. But that wasn’t enough; not for him.

“I’m sorry,” he laughs against the skin of your thigh. “I couldn’t hear you, Sweetheart. What did you just say?”

You simultaneously whined and groaned with frustration.

“Yes,” you gasped. “It’s yours, Eddie. It’s your pussy. Now, please, please just fuck me.”

“Such a desperate little slut. I’m right here, baby. ‘M not going anywhere. Not when I have such a tasty little snack on a silver platter right in front of me.”

You want nothing more at that moment than to tell him to shut the hell up and stop playing with his food. But before you can utter a word, he cuts you off by flattening his tongue against you. He licks up your arousal from the bottom of your opening to your clit, circling the bundle of nerves for a little while before wrapping his lips around it. You swear to God that Eddie’s trying to destroy you, to somehow devour your soul as he does the same to your pussy. Everything he does to you drives you crazy; severs your train of thought from its track. All that’s swirling around in your mind is Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

The sound of his tongue lapping up your slick and sliding through your folds coaxed a moan out of you that echoes off the tiled walls of the locker room. It feeds Eddie’s ego full as he moans against your soaking mound, the vibrations of his hums igniting the fire in you and sending the flames higher and higher. As your legs quiver at the intensity and the coil in your stomach starts to loom, he pushes his hands against your thighs to keep you from slipping off the bench and against the wall. You dig your hands into the roots of his dark curls, earning another hum of appreciation before detaching his lips from you to circle his tongue around your clit again.

Eddie looks up at you with a coy smile and hazy eyes, the mixture of your arousal and his spit dripping down his chin as he latches his mouth around you again. He effortlessly slides his finger in and out of you. The sinful slurping sounds that fill the air send waves of phantom pleasure washing over you. It felt something akin to a dream; déjà vu. You gasp as Eddie slips a second finger into you, the cool metal of his rings bumping against your entrance making your pussy flutter around him at the unexpected contrast.

“Shhiiitt, you’re takin’ my fingers so well, Sweetheart. Can’t wait to have that tight little pussy wrapped around me,” he purred against your clit as he curled his fingers against your sweet spot. He can tell by your breath and the way you tremble beneath his mouth that you’re about to snap. It encouraged him to frantically pick up the pace of his fingers and playfully shake his head back against your clit, bringing you over the edge and sending your body into pure bliss. 

Eddie wasted no time drinking up all that released from you, licking up every drop from between the lips of your pussy to where it was caked on the inside of your thighs. It was ambrosia on his tongue, salty sweat and musk mixed with his spit and your release. He was so glad he decided to stop you from showering when he did; you wouldn’t have ended up tasting nearly as good as you did now.

The fog from your mind started to clear as you come back down to earth again, Your breathing returned to normal again after Eddie lowered your thighs back onto his shoulders. He snuggles himself into the embrace of your legs, leaning his cheek into your palm that traveled down from his hair.

 "Well I'd say you definitely lent a helping hand, but now it's my turn pretty boy." He laughs as he brings his fingers to your mouth, pressing them past your teeth and letting them settle, as you suck your arousal off of him. Moaning through closed eyes basking in the reminder of how Eddie made you feel on top of the world, you were gonna return the favor. 

He had always adored when you would get that look in your eyes after making you cum. Your eyes would get a bit glassy and your lids would draw almost as if fighting sleep. No, you weren't fighting to sleep, you were just turning the cogs trying to figure out how you were going to please your man. You had turned the shower on to the hottest it would go, never reaching past a lukewarm. If Hawkins was one thing it was never efficient.

“ I don’t think it’s very fair that I have to be naked and you get to be fully clothed. I think we need to fix that.” he took a tendril of hair that had fallen into your face and tucked it behind your ear.

“Well if you still have the ability to think straight I don't think I've done my job right princess.”  He pulls the shirt from the nape of his neck up and over his head and tosses it towards the pile you had started on the tile floor. Before he can reach for them you are already lowering yourself to your knees as your hands unbutton his jeans and slip his zipper down slowly looking up at him through your lashes. 

“ Fuck me, man.” It comes out breathy and hitched as you tug his jeans and boxers to his ankles. Watching as his dick springs from the second tug down, smacking his stomach as his precum leaves a mess making your mouth water, a reflex making you bite down so hard on your bottom lip you swear you can taste the metallic trickle of blood. He kicks his pants to the side as he takes a seat on the bench you were on not long ago.

The tile was biting into your knees but you had been through worse trying to suck Eddie off, Skull Rock had a particularly awful patch of prickly trees that Eddie just loves to stand beneath. Looking up at him now he had nothing but love for you in those eyes. 

His breathing hitches as you lick the mess off his stomach, mixing it on your tongue as you let a glob of drool drop to the tip of his dick as you take your hand and rub it along his shaft. The size of him always had your thighs clenching. He was length and girth in all the right places. The thought of him filling you had your arousal dripping onto the tile below you. You lowered your head taking Eddie into your mouth swirling your tongue around his tip and across his slit as he clutched a fist into your hair as you began to bob up and down a perfect rhythm you had found he fell for. 

“ Holy shit, Baby, Just like that, yes fuuuck,  Just like that .” His head was leaned back against the wall, eyes closed as the water from the shower mist  hit his chest rolling down his flexed stomach, cooling the heat that was rising within him. You could see a small thank you on his lips as he held out his breath feeling you take him to his hilt and hearing the sound of your throat gag against him, the vibrations of the moan sending a shiver down his spine. 

You had slipped off of his length and licked down to the sack underneath, hands working along as you found your way. A small whimper from Eddie as you took one of his balls into your mouth and sucked along the skin feeling the weight of his need making you moan and Eddie's grip on your hair tightened. He pulled up off of him with a wet pop, his balls were extremely sensitive. A lesson you learned on a rainy day in May as your boardroom hit rock bottom and Eddie had looked like a god coming out of the shower. Letting the spit fall as your hands continuously worked their way up and down his length. 

“ Come on honey Please.” you let out a giggle, one that made him grip your hair hard,  pulling back until you were face to face with him.

 “ Who's desperate now?” Instead of words, you knew he would make you pay for laughing at his plea. Standing fast as he bent you over again just as he did when you first started this little act except this time he brutally slammed his cock straight into you. A whine ripped through you gasping for air around his moans. They were muffled against your skin bending with you as you found a grip on the wall in front of you as the water made everything around you slick. 

Once your hold was solid his grip on your hips let you know his pace was about to be fast and rough. Slamming into you over and over the sounds of his balls slapping against the arousal that was dripping from you and echoing off the walls. The dirty thoughts of how anyone could walk in at any moment to check and make sure that someone was not in any harm, and would instead find you a moaning mess, getting railed in the best way by the freak of Hawkins High. A freak he was indeed. You look at your wrist and see the light bruises he had left not long ago from some handcuffs and his headboard. This then led you to another thought of how he had used those handcuffs in the hideout one night after a long show, a night where he had promised to lock up for the owner but instead, he had you cuffed to a wall and set up on his amp as he played riffs through your orgasms. He had recorded some little tapes for himself. The breathless gruff in his voice brought you back to now. 

“ You in that pretty little head baby? You keep squeezing the fuck out of me with that tight pussy of yours. What's got, you so bot-thered baby? Come on we got all weekend to fuck those thoughts out. Just let go, baby, just let go. Come on sweet thing.“ 

You can feel him closing in on his climax. The hitch in his pace is a telltale sign. You moan and mewl under him pushing back with more pressure as your own climax begins to build and hit that high. 

“ No words hunny? Dick just that good hmm?” you nod as the coil snaps for the second time. Throwing your head back into his shoulder as you ride out your high.

“ Yes Eddie! God Yes! Always so good to me. Always. So. good. To. Me.” as you gush around him he thrust into you a few more times as the ropes of his pleasure begin to paint your walls. The grunts and moans of his release could make you come again just by the way he grips onto you, making sure that you are glued to him. Every single drop of him sealed within you.

He falls flush to you slipping out with a hiss and turns you in his arms as you both stand wrapped into each other's arms. He kisses your shoulder and the crook of your neck. You squish your face against the flat of his chest and the thick of his arm as you let your eyelids drift closed just reveling in the moment as the water washes over you both. He nudges your ear with his nose as you turn your face up to him he catches your lips in a hungry yet slow kiss, letting his forehead fall to yours.

 “ You know I love you, pretty girl. You know that right?” you hum a satisfied tune into his mouth as you kiss him softly.

 “ I love you more handsome.” he lets out a low laugh.

” Not possible .” bringing your face back to his chest. 

“ Yes possible .”  Then everything goes Dark. You can feel Eddie but you can’t see him. You conclude that a janitor had turned off the lights, thinking everyone had gone home for the night. Not the first time that it had happened and it would probably not be the last.  But thankfully Eddie being Eddie knew exactly how to get you out, another time he would save you, your hero. Your freak, Your love.