#if you want to argue with me that’s fine - I just ask that you’re respectful

[wolvietxt]

𝓢OFT 𝓔DGES !

pairing : daryl dixon x reader warnings : fluff, slight hurt / comfort wc : 1.7k a/n : little filler fic while i write my logan series :3

the first time it happened, neither of you really knew how.  

it was late, the fire burned low, and most of the group had already shuffled off to bed. you were sitting across from daryl, neither of you talking much, just existing in the shared quiet that came easier than most things did nowadays. the crackle of embers filled the silence between you, soft and soothing.  

you glanced at him, his face half-lit by the dying light, shadows carving out the planes of his features. his posture was as rigid as ever, shoulders tight, hands fidgeting with the frayed edge of his shirt sleeve. he caught your gaze and raised a brow, muttering, “what?”  

“nothing,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “just… you look like you haven’t slept in days.”  

his scoff was soft. “look who’s talkin’.”  

you couldn’t argue with that. sleep had been a luxury lately, the kind of thing you thought about wistfully but rarely indulged in. the weight of exhaustion pressed heavy on you both, worn into your bones, but neither of you made a move to head inside.  

“guess we’re both a mess,” you murmured.  

his lips twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smile but close enough. “yeah. guess so.”  

you fell silent again, but the stillness wasn’t uncomfortable. it was… familiar. in a way, it felt like company - good company - was the only thing holding you together some nights. eventually, the fire died down completely, and the chill of the night crept in.  

you rubbed your arms, shivering a little. daryl’s eyes flicked to you briefly before he stood up, muttering, “c’mon. it’s cold.”  

you blinked at him. “what?”  

“you stay out here, you’re gonna freeze,” he said, already heading towards the small cabin the group had claimed for the night.  

you followed him inside, mostly out of confusion, and found yourself lingering as he dropped onto the cot he’d claimed earlier. his boots hit the floor with a dull thunk, and he looked over at you, brows furrowing.  

“you just gonna stand there?”  

“where else am i supposed to go?” you asked, crossing your arms.  

he huffed, shoving himself to the far side of the cot. “ain’t rocket science. there’s room here.”  

your eyes widened slightly. “you want me to - ”  

“didn’t say i want nothin’,” he interrupted, voice low. “just figured you’d be better off not sleepin’ on the damn floor.”  

there was no real way to argue with that, so you swallowed your hesitation and perched awkwardly on the edge of the cot. he didn’t say anything, just rolled onto his side and pulled the blanket over himself.  

you laid down slowly, keeping as much space between you as you could on the narrow cot. it was fine - quiet, awkward, but fine - until you started to drift off, and your hand brushed against his.  

you tensed immediately, but he didn’t move away. didn’t say anything either. the warmth of his skin seeped into yours, grounding in a way you didn’t know you needed. after a moment, you let your fingers curl slightly, brushing against his again.  

he shifted just enough to press his palm against yours.  

you fell asleep like that, hands barely touching, and woke up with his arm slung over your waist, your head tucked under his chin.  

after that night, it happened more often than not.  

you didn’t talk about it - didn’t need to. daryl wasn’t the kind of man who used words to explain himself, and you weren’t exactly great at starting conversations either. the first few nights, you both kept a respectful distance, careful not to overstep. but over time, the gaps closed.  

he didn’t pull away when your hand found his again. he didn’t flinch when your head rested against his shoulder. and when his arm looped around your waist to pull you closer, you didn’t hesitate to lean into him, letting his steady warmth soothe the ache in your chest.  

it became routine.  

no matter how long the day was or how much tension lingered between you during the hours of sunlight, when the night came, you ended up tangled together. neither of you really had to say it, but the need was mutual - silent and unspoken, but mutual.  

one night, you found yourself tracing the faint scars on his forearm, your fingers light as a feather. he didn’t stop you, just watched in silence. when you looked up at him, his gaze was unreadable, softer than you’d ever seen.  

“what?” you whispered.  

he shook his head, barely perceptible. “nothin’.”  

but his arm tightened around you, and he pulled you closer, his chin resting on the top of your head. you didn’t press further. whatever he was thinking, he wasn’t ready to share it yet, and that was okay.  

because lying there, wrapped up in him, was enough.

the run had gone sideways before it even really started.  

what was supposed to be a simple supply run had turned into a mess of bad luck and bad timing. walkers everywhere, collapsing buildings, and the kind of chaos that left your adrenaline buzzing long after you’d made it back to camp.  

daryl hadn’t let you out of his sight the whole time, his hand shooting out to grab your arm or yank you behind him whenever things got too close for comfort. not that you needed him to - years of surviving on your own had sharpened your instincts - but he didn’t seem to care.  

“next time, yer stayin’ behind,” he grumbled as the two of you stumbled through the front gates, the night air heavy with tension.  

“like hell,” you shot back, wiping blood and grime off your face.  

he glared, but the exhaustion in his eyes dulled the edge. “ain’t arguin’ with ya right now.”  

fine by you. you were too tired to argue either, and the ache in your legs was proof enough that you needed rest. by the time you both trudged into the cabin, the rest of the group had settled down, their voices distant murmurs.  

you kicked your boots off and dropped onto the cot without much thought, your body already anticipating the pull of sleep. daryl hovered for a moment, watching you with an unreadable expression before sitting down heavily beside you.  

“you okay?” he asked gruffly, his voice softer than usual.  

“i’m fine,” you muttered, though your hands were still trembling slightly.  

he didn’t look convinced. “you sure? looked like you were ‘bout to - ”  

“i’m fine, daryl.” you cut him off, sharper than you meant to.  

his jaw tightened, but he didn’t push further. instead, he let out a rough sigh and leaned back, his weight shifting the cot just enough that you felt it.  

the silence stretched, heavy and awkward, until you finally broke it.  

“you didn’t have to keep pulling me out of trouble, you know.”  

he snorted, leaning down to untie his boots. “yeah, i did.”  

you turned your head to look at him, confused. “why?”  

he shrugged, like the answer was obvious. “’cause if somethin’ happened to ya, i’d lose my damn mind.”  

the admission hung in the air between you, uncomfortably raw. you opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. instead, you shifted closer, hesitating for a moment before resting your hand on his arm.  

he stilled, his eyes flicking down to where your fingers brushed against his skin.  

“you don’t have to worry about me,” you said softly. “we’re both still here. that’s what matters.”  

he scoffed, though it lacked any real bite. “ain’t that simple.”  

“why not?”  

he turned his head to look at you, the shadows in his eyes deeper than you’d ever seen. “’cause it just ain’t.”  

your hand slid down his arm until your fingers found his, curling around them. his hand tensed briefly before relaxing, his grip tightening around yours like he was afraid to let go.  

“you don’t have to carry everything alone, you know,” you whispered.  

“ain’t got a choice,” he muttered, his voice low.  

“you do,” you said firmly, shifting closer until your forehead rested against his shoulder. “you’ve got me.”  

for a moment, he didn’t respond, the weight of your words pressing heavy against him. but then his free arm looped around your waist, pulling you into him in a way that felt both protective and vulnerable.  

“yeah,” he said quietly. “guess i do.”  

the tension in the room eased slightly, though the vulnerability lingered. you stayed like that for a while, your head on his shoulder, his arm around you, until the chill of the night seeped in and you both shifted to lie down.  

as you settled against him, your head on his chest and his heartbeat steady beneath your ear, you felt the faint tremor in his hand as it rested on your back.  

“you’re shaking,” you murmured.  

“ain’t nothin’,” he muttered.  

you didn’t call him out on it, but you didn’t pull away either. instead, you let your fingers trace idle patterns along his arm, your touch light but deliberate.  

“daryl,” you said after a long pause, your voice barely above a whisper.  

“what?”  

“i mean it. you don’t have to do this alone. not anymore.”  

his breath hitched slightly, and you felt him press his face into your hair, his grip on you tightening.  

“ain’t used to this,” he admitted, his voice muffled. “don’t even know what the hell i’m doin’ half the time.”  

you tilted your head up to look at him, your eyes searching his face. “you’re doing fine.”  

his lips quirked into the faintest hint of a smile. “that so?”  

“yeah,” you said, resting your head back against his chest. “better than fine, actually.”  

he huffed softly, the sound somewhere between disbelief and relief.  

“you’re somethin’ else,” he muttered, his fingers brushing lightly along your spine.  

you smiled against his shirt, the warmth of his words settling deep in your chest. “so are you.”  

the two of you fell silent after that, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up to you both. but as you drifted off, tangled together in a way that felt more like home than anything else ever had, you couldn’t help but think that maybe - just maybe - you were finally starting to understand what it meant to not be alone. 

🌀 daryl dixon : @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @lemoanaid, @sunnykittyzz

@california-boys-and-sun, @cable-kenobi, @omen-keke, @hhiggs

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[maingh0st]

The hate Taryn gets is way too exaggerated and disproportionate. It’s just straight up misogyny at this point, in my opinion. The fandom needs to get over it.

I could literally write a treatise about Taryn-hate at this point lmao. I’m going to share some thoughts (this actually got quite long), but I want to include a big ole disclaimer: at the end of the day, everybody gets to engage in fandom in the ways they want. everyone is free to love or hate whichever characters they want, for the reasons that feel valid and real to them. that being said, the treatment of Taryn specifically is really troubling and bizarre to me. 

I think it’s worth pointing out that when we say Taryn-hate seems misogynistic, that means a lot more than just “people who hate Taryn hate her because she’s a girl.” in my opinion, fandom misogyny toward her often gets couched in broader terms. some examples of what I mean by this are:

(1) Taryn does things that are bad and I don’t like that - uhhhh okay. everybody in these books does shitty things, so let’s think about why specifically the actions of Taryn (a 17-18 year old girl being manipulated by multiple men in her life) fall into the category of unredeemable for you. the reason we might point to this being misogynistic is because it’s a double standard that doesn’t apply to other characters—we’re willing to forgive Cardan his cruelty, or centuries-old Madoc for the trauma he's inflicted and his ongoing need for bloodshed, but Taryn is just a stupid, evil girl for trying to secure her place in Elfhame through the levers of power that are available to her. she can never be forgiven nor redeemed no matter how loyal she is to Jude moving forward. why is that? what sin of hers are so particularly evil to warrant this response? and we have to answer these questions in the context of Elfhame & its moral code, not in the context of our own world.

(2) I could never see myself acting in the way Taryn does and therefore I don’t like her - okay? I can never see myself acting like Madoc, or even like Vivi (don’t get me started on Vivi & the fact that she gets passes Taryn never does), but that doesn’t mean I can’t have empathy for them. I understand that we experience the books through Jude’s perspective, so we’re automatically more prone to rooting for her—and to be clear, I love Jude! but fiction challenges us to experience the world through other perspectives, and it’s my opinion that Taryn acts in a way that is completely consistent and understandable with her experience of Elfhame. “I’m not like you,” she tells Jude. “I want to belong here. Defying them makes everything worse. You never asked me before you went against Prince Cardan—you didn’t care what it brought down on either of our heads.” 

while Jude’s defiance is held up as girlboss behavior (by me, too! I love a “get worse” arc), Taryn’s more traditionally feminine approach to finding her place in Elfhame is reviled (@slightlyrebelliouswriter23 has a great post on the fawn response to trauma & on passivity). more on this point below. 

(3) Taryn isn’t a “girl’s girl” - I am begging fandom to think critically about why Taryn betrays Jude & what that says not just about Elfhame, but about our world. these girls live in a world that affords them little power and agency. we meet them on the cusp of adulthood, and they’re both hyper-aware that they need to secure their place in Elfhame. Jude refers to knighthood as “earning” her place and is uninterested in marriage, but Taryn seems aware that she’s more likely to secure her place through the latter option (and also expresses the fear that Jude is going to leave her behind). it’s an oversimplification, but a useful one for the sake of this conversation, to point out that Jude chooses a more traditionally masculine approach, while Taryn chooses a more traditionally feminine one.

the tragedy is that this world—and particularly the men in their lives—pit them against one another. Locke offers Taryn the thing she wants most, requires a vow of her secrecy, and then begins flirting with Jude (and that's not even to mention him being a gancanagh!). at a point in her story where Madoc and Oriana are the only family who are still around for Taryn, Madoc capitalizes on Taryn’s ignorance (and also her awareness that she's never been the favorite daughter) & uses her to betray Jude. I almost never see these complexities brought up in conversations about Taryn, which is just gross to me, and echoes the ways that patriarchal power structures pit women against each other in the real world. 

I’ve seen people argue that while Jude’s approach is also flawed, she at least doesn’t betray Taryn. and like… kind of? she certainly doesn’t betray Taryn as directly as Taryn betrays her—but some of that just strikes me as dumb luck. consider what might’ve happened if Dain hadn’t died at the end of book one. what lengths might he have asked Jude to go to in order to prove her loyalty to him? or if we rewind even further—it’s honestly just dumb luck that someone didn’t harm or kill Taryn (Valerian, for example, could've chosen the wrong window). Jude’s antagonism of Cardan & his friends had a direct effect on Taryn’s life, and even though Taryn begged her to stop, she bullheadedly charged on. the difference is that Jude’s risky decisions ultimately work out for her, while Taryn has to face the consequences of hers not panning out the way she wanted them to. 

this isn't exhaustive, and there’s so much more I could say, but this is already so long. so in conclusion, the reason all this matters to me personally is twofold: 

at its best, fiction teaches us empathy. part of why I love tfota is because it takes characters & dynamics that are really messy & helps you, the reader, understand where everyone is coming from & why. the fact that we love Madoc is a testament to fiction’s ability to do this. so why is a teenage girl treated like the true villain of this story? what about her makes us incapable of empathy? why, in the mind of the fandom, is she not allowed forgiveness (or even just a chance at redemption) for the harm she's caused, while other characters are? I see people stanning Nicasia, who actively tortured Jude (over a boy, no less!!) ffs

fandom misogyny reflects our world. why are people eager to forgive toxic male love interests, yet hold the bar impossibly high for girls? why is there such a narrow set of choices & behaviors that we consider acceptable for female characters? Holly wrote a story about two young women carving out places for themselves in a world hostile to them, hurting each other in the process, and ultimately deciding to forgive, love, and root for one another—and fandom has taken that complex narrative and pitted them against one another, upholding one as the girlboss who can do no wrong while treating the other as scum. misogyny thrives on women treating each other like the problem, so if this is our attitude toward a fictional story where we’re afforded direct looks into characters’ thoughts, how much worse are we going to be in the real world, faced with real, imperfect women?

anyways, in conclusion: you're entitled to dislike taryn, but if you feel such vitriol toward her that you're literally making hate posts (or commenting under fanart of her!! holy shit), I invite you to interrogate where that hate actually comes from. fin.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Last one I swear...What If 141...had an American girlfriend and they argued or had to teach them about some cultural differences? Football/soccer...currency...bathroom/loo, etc.

You said last one but we know that's not true. Don't blame you though. Keep them coming.

I love this idea. It's so cute! Translation mixup, confusion about slang, cultural differences, etc. Even though the Brits speak English, it's nothing like American English in a lot of respects, which is why I find this prompt so fun!

Wanted to make this quick and short. Presented in four drabbles. Enjoy!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader

Content & Warnings: brief swearing, brief mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 400

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Those are cookies, Kyle.”

“It’s a biscuit.”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “A biscuit is savory. Cookies are sweet.”

“Your biscuit is a scone.”

“Oh my god,” you groan.

An old lady navigates around the two of you inside the grocery store. Her cart almost clips you.

Kyle glances down at the list in his hands. “What the fuck is an eggplant?”

“We need it for dinner on Tuesday.”

“But what is it?”

You point and Kyle follows. His arm drops to his side and he side-eyes you.

“That’s an aubergine.”

“That’s an aubergine,” you mimic as Kyle laughs.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

The front of the pub is painted all black with intricate gold lettering. A nearby streetlamp casts the front window in a warm glow.

“Remember what I told you?” asks Simon.

You both stare at the pub, neither moving to the door just yet.

“Tell me again.”

Simon clears his throat. “If I’m buying a round, don’t offer money for your portion. Order at the bar but don’t linger. Know what you want. Respect closing time.”

He pauses and you see him turn in the reflection of the window.

“Got it?” he asks.

“Got it.”

“Let’s get bloody pissed then.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

“You’ve got this. Don’t stress.” Johnny grasps your shoulders and squeezes. “It’ll be fine.”

“What if I mess up. Make a fool of myself?”

“You won’t,” he affirms.

“Johnny.”

He sighs and then cups the sides of your face. “You don’t have to say anything but three things.” You breathe deep, and Johnny goes in for a quick kiss. “What are they?”

“Aye,” you say. “Which means yes.”

“Naw,” and this is you emphasize with a terrible accent that makes Johnny wince, “is no.”

“What else?”

“It’s okay to use ‘fuck’ casually in a sentence.”

“That’s my girl,” laughs Johnny.

John Price

“If you’re coming to the game, you’re calling it by its proper name,” says John, pointing at you.

“What?” you ask with pretend aloofness. “Soccer?”

“Football,” he growls with annoyance.

It irritates John when you call the sport by its American name. But you do it anyway just to tease him.

John holds up a jersey. “This is important to me.”

“I know.”

“It’s a game with the boys.”

You pat his shoulder. “I know, John.”

He sighs. “What is it called?”

You remain quite and John arches an eyebrow.

“Soccer,” you answer, grinning.

“You’re lucky you’re so damn cute.”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@taysarchive @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @vrb8im

[5sospenguinqueen]

Lullabies | Max Verstappen x Singer! Reader

Summary: Six months ago, Max walked out of your life after a conversation about your future. When you find out he' ended up in a's dating Kelly - who has a child - you work through your emotions in the best way you know how; revenge music.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Miscommunication. End of a relationship. Max doesn’t look great in this.

Female reader with various faceclaims. Takes place in 2021 but timelines have been completely altered. Olivia Rodrigo songs.

Main Masterlist

next.

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Feb

YourUserName just posted

liked by georgerussell63, bestfriend and others

YourUserName 'and i fantasise about a time you're a little fucking sorry'

12,326 comments

User 1 mother is in the studio, ya’ll. i'm smelling a new album

User 2 did their breakup destroy my soul? yes. do i believe the revenge album will heal my soul? absolutely

User 3 the working titles are so unhinged and I’m here for it

→ User 4 hit you with a car is so real

→ User 5 love that she called him evil whilst also saying that she wants him to drive off a cliff. we respect it

francisca.cgomes i’m SO ready for this. sure you can’t give me a little preview?

→ YourUserName stop trying to get me fired

User 6 sis disappears from social media for 6 months only to come back serving cunt

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

2 months before

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

May

redbullracing just posted

liked by YourUserName, maxverstappen1 and others

redbullracing ANOTHER VICTORY FOR MAX VERSTAPPEN 🏆 #AustrianGP tagged: maxverstappen1, kellypiquet

7,445 comments

User 7 omg omg omg y/n liked. this is not a drill

User 8 was that last photo really necessary? she’s just a wag, she’s not actually part of red bull

User 9 not y/n liking 🥺 he broke her heart but she’s still supportive of his career

User 10 that should’ve been Y/N

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

June

YourUserName just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, victoriaverstappen and others

YourUserName 'you’re just a stranger i know everything about'

10,102 comments

User 11 not max liking despite not even following

victoriaverstappen so talented

liked by maxverstappen1

→ YourUserName thank you, vic x

→ User 12 not the former SILs interacting on main

alex_albon what's that sound? oh, it's just my tears

→ YourUserName doofus

→ lilymhe can confirm

User 12 and now my heart is breaking all over again. i miss the two of them so bad

kellypiquet just posted

liked by landonorris, redbullracing and others

kellypiquet summer break with my favourites 🤍 tagged: maxverstappen1

4,387 comments

User 13 so pretty

User 14 goals

User 15 anyone notice max hasn’t been commenting since y/n became active again on socials

→ User 16 delusional

→ User 17 clearly they're fine if she's posting vacay pics with him

→ User 18 except these are clearly old pics because max had stubble at the gp like two days ago so...

→ User 15 @ user16 plus he always used to comment and this time he's not even liked the post

→ User 19 not to add fuel to the fire but they were also spotted arguing after his podium

YourUserName posted a new story

Baby Fever Angst Series

Tag List (I tried to include all those who asked. Sorry if you only wanted to be tagged in Part 2 to Daniel and not the other drivers, it got a bit confusing haha)

@lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery

[roanniom]

I wanna say best friend Steve, who doesn’t get why you’re insecure and wants to hype you up…

Reflections

Best Friend!Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, friends to lovers, light angst from body image issues but it resolves, PIV sex / mirror sex, praise, groping, a LOT of fluff

You’re getting ready for a party and he’s waiting for you but you’re taking foreeeeever and he’s so BORED. He’s flopped on your bed with an arm over his eyes moaning about how late you two will be. But then he realizes you’ve been in your closet for a long time and you’re really quiet.

“Babe? C’mon, what’s going on? Get outta there.”

When you finally do, Steve’s eyes go wide. He’s never seen you in something so form fitting. Something that hugs every delicious curve and exposes the hills and valleys of you. His mouth goes dry and suddenly he’s feeling all hot and clammy like a fucking teenager again.

Keep it together, Harrington. You used to run shit and now you’re getting stiff over your best friend? He swallows thickly at the thought and wrenches his gaze up to your face, startled to find you frowning.

“What’s wrong?” he asks and you throw your arms up into the air.

“What do you mean what’s wrong?” you huff, walking over to the mirror. Steve steps up behind you, doing his best to maintain a respectful distance. Your hands grab meanly at the rounded parts of you and your frown deepens. “This doesn’t fit how I wanted it to and I look awful and -,”

You’re cut off suddenly by the massive snort of a laugh Steve let’s out behind you. You glare daggers at him over your shoulder through the mirror.

“What the fuck, Harrington?!”

Steve continues chuckling but puts his hands heavy on your shoulders, good natured and soothing.

“I’m sorry but you’re fucking crazy if you think you look awful. You’ve gotta be pulling my leg here, babe.”

Your jaw tenses as it does every time he calls you ‘babe.’ Reminding yourself that he’s your friend and nothing more, regardless of the way his fingers are digging into your muscles, you shake your head petulantly.

“I look like bag of lumps,” you argue.

“Nah, you look like one of those paintings we saw on that field trip to that museum in Indianapolis,” he says wistfully, no longer pretending to not be appraising you in the mirror. Despite your lingering trepidations you can’t lie to yourself. You like the feeling of his eyes on your body.

“You calling me Rubenesque?” you ask, finally quirking a smile. Steve’s answer grin is huge, glad you’re no longer frowning.

“Look, I have no idea what that means but if it’s good, then yeah.” He shrugs and takes you in again, scanning your figure with eyes that finally settle on your ass, no longer looking in the mirror. You feel heat spread through you while he licks his lips unconsciously. “But really I’m calling you sexy.”

“Sexy?” you groan, ruffling with discomfort and squeezing your eyes shut against embarrassment. “Shut up, Harrington!”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up.

“What?”

“Just shut up, will you?”

“Why? Because I called you sexy?” he asks defensively.

You curl in on yourself covering your ears.

“Stop fucking saying that word.”

“No. I won’t, you weirdo,” Steve laughs, grabbing you by the waist and wrestling you back to full height. You fight against him weakly by wriggling in his arms but his grip is firm. He locks eyes with you in the mirror and forces you to hold the contact. “You’re fucking hot, okay? Deal with it.”

“Ok fine, hot is a word that, while an exaggeration, I can maybe live with,” you respond, rolling your eyes. Steve shakes his head. It’s not lost on you that his grip tightens on your waist.

“But you’re also sexy,” he continues to insist. When you loll your head to the side in discomfort he has to steel himself so he doesn’t lean down and inhale the scent of your perfume on your exposed neck. He shakes you a bit and your head lolls to the other side. “What’s your problem with that word.”

“Because, Steve,” you harumph, slapping your hands over your eyes to hide your face. “Calling someone ‘sexy’ implies that people would willingly have sex with them.”

Steve is momentarily silent but the puff of air that you feel on your neck from his sudden and harsh exhale makes goosebumps erupt on your skin. It’s his turn to frown darkly at you.

“Is that a joke?”

“The idea of people willing to have sex with me?” you ask, reaching to dig and elbow back into his ribs. “Yeah. A big joke. Haha Ho Ho. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

Steve’s mouth flattens into a tight line.

“Lots of people want to have sex with you.” He says it bluntly. It’s not an argument. He’s not trying to convince you. Just stating it as if it’s fact.

And now it’s your turn to snort.

“As the sexual object in question, who has been so celibate it’s like her virginity has been reinstated, I’m gonna have to beg to differ with you, buddy.”

Steve stiffens behind you. You’re best friends. He knew about your dry spell, but he hadn’t realized the extent to which it had messed with your confidence. It makes him almost shake with a sudden rage he doesn’t understand. Not at you, of course. But at the situation. At the male population of Hawkins who clearly don’t have fucking eyeballs let alone brains to comprehend what a catch you are.

He’d been nursing his own pathetic crush on you since that first day you’d waltzed into Scoops Ahoy and immediately turned down his over the top advances. You’d laughed him off as completely unserious and the two of you began an unlikely friendship born of teasing, complaining, and messing with Dustin and Robin. Steve had swallowed his attraction to you, letting it surface only in moments when he could appreciate you without you noticing. Which means “appreciating” your ass when you bend over to pick something up. Or “appreciating” your tits when you bend over to pick something else up. The fact that you haven’t noticed how consistently Steve drops shit is honestly concerning.

Steve’s not a particularly eloquent guy. He can be smooth when he wants to be, but if his current season of striking out constantly has taught him anything, it’s the fact that he isn’t getting any better at speaking. All he knows is he’s desperate to change the look on your face that says you don’t believe in your own looks.

He doesn’t think. He just pulls you against the front of his body roughly, closing the gap he had been maintaining.

“Steve, what - oh!” you gasp when you feel it. Him. Hard against you, his fingers digging into your sides to keep you pressed to him. Steve lowers his head to speak in your ear, all the while maintaining eye contact with you in the mirror.

“You’re more than a sexual object,” he says roughly. Then his hands drop to the sides of your thighs, applying pressure as he slides them up to map the slopes of your curves. “But if that’s what you wanna be, believe me. You’ve got takers, babe.”

“Steve…” you mumble under your breath. Your eyes are wide and fixed on him. Lips wetted and parted as you inhale shallowly.

Well. At least he’d managed to get the frown off your face.

Steve does his best to analyze the look in your eyes through the mirror. He doesn’t want to make you more upset accidentally. You gape for a second, remaining silent, and his hands follow the same path back down your curves, sliding around to press into the roundness of your lower belly to push you more securely against his erection.

“You’re…you’re just trying to make me feel better…” you finally say weakly. Steve’s hands slide back up to hold your hips, pressing into the dip of your waist to savor in a supple roundedness present there as well. Your eyelids flutter for a second at the touch.

“So are you saying this is making you feel better?” He asks. You don’t respond so he rolls his eyes. “You think I got hard just to make you feel better? Seriously?”

“Well I don’t know how it works…” you sputter indignantly. Steve laughs into your hair.

“Yeah I don’t believe that for a second. I think you know exactly how it works and that’s why you find it so fun to mess with me all the damn time.”

Your brow furrows and Steve shakes his head.

“Cut the crap. You do shit to turn me on every single day. It has to be intentional at this point.”

Your mouth opens and you struggle to respond.

“I don’t know what you’re…I’m not doing anything.” Then your face screws up in frustration. “If you’re making fun of me, I swear to god, Steve, I’ll -,”

“Does this feel like I’m making fun of you?!” Steve says abruptly, grinding against you. Your dress is so short that this time it rides up with the pressure, making it so that his clothed cock presses between the plush of the backs of your thighs.

You want to protest, but the moan that rips from your throat doesn’t sound much like a protest. Steve groans in your ear and your eyes whip up from where they’d rested on his hands to find his face. The hunger in his expression steals your breath.

“You cant…you can’t really want this,” you mutter. You can’t want me, is what you mean. It makes a lump form in Steve’s throat. Makes him want to hold you even closer, so he does.

“I do,” he contradicts, rocking himself against you consistently now. He’s encouraged by the way you shiver and grip at his wrists. Not pulling him off you but anchoring him to you instead. Steve brings his face to the side of yours, staring till you turn your head to look at him. In real life this time and not through the mirror. He’s disconcertingly close and your breath stutters in your chest. His eyelids are half mast as he takes you in. “The question is…do you want this?”

You kiss him before you can think any deeper about what’s going on. You kiss him before you can convince yourself that this is a prank or a pity kiss or anything else other than an attractive man you care about lavishing you with physical affection. Steve’s eyes slam shut easily and he holds you close in this awkward position. Craning your neck around as his front is pressed still to your back. His lips are insistent and hot and wet and quickly he’s forcing yours open so his tongue can slip in.

You practically swoon over the combination of his hands and his lips and his tongue. His dick presses more insistently against you and you find yourself pressing back. Shimmying your was a bit to create more friction. Triumph shooting through you when Steve let’s out a quiet, low “Fuck” in response.

When you finally pull away for a oxygen, you straighten up and look at Steve and yourself in the mirror again. You look absolutely debauched out of no where. Eyes hazy, lids low, hair and dress askew, chest rising and falling in a restless pant. Steve ignores the opportunity to breathe, instead using the pause to start kissing your neck.

You watch him work at your skin. His jaw moving and throat tensing and releasing. His hair wild and disheveled in a way that makes him look even more sinfully delicious than normal. It really isn’t fair.

You’ve always been attracted to Steve Harrington. You have eyes and a healthy libido after all. But you’d never believed someone like him could want someone like you. You did believe, however, that you were a perfect match in every respect other than aesthetic. He needed someone to challenge him. Someone to keep him humble while also supporting him and building him up. You had plenty of confidence in your humor, intelligence, and overall personality, so him becoming your best friend made sense when you both fell into it.

But with his body against yours now, it’s the first time you’ve ever even considered the meaning behind his flirtatiousness. The intent behind the hands he places comfortingly on your shoulders or thighs. Hope bloomed hot and hesitant in your core as you watched his hands begin to roam and grope at parts he’d never dared touch before.

“This…this okay?” he asks into your skin as he tentatively cups one of your breasts. He cracks an eye open to look at you in the mirror and when you nod, he allows his hand to close tighter around you. You swallow another moan.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?” he whispers back, not looking up from your tits which he’s begun massaging through your dress. You grasp at his wrist and shake him to get his attention.

“Steve.”

The strain in your voice has his eyes snapping up to yours and his hands stopping immediately. He looks sheepish.

“Do you not like that? I can stop -,”

He goes to remove his hands from your chest but you slam your hands down over the backs of his to keep him fondling you.

“No!” you say hastily. Steve seems confused so you continue. “Remember what you said about there being ‘takers’ for me?”

Steve bites his lip, not enjoying the thought of how many other guys would find you thoroughly fuckable. But he nods.

“Yeah?”

“Well…” you say before you can overthink and ruin this. Your mind is reeling and your body is aching. The signs are too clear to question and even if this wasn’t what it seemed to be, you didn’t feel strong enough to look a gift horse in the mouth. You bite your own lip. “Would you…would you take me?”

Steve stops breathing. You can tell because his breaths were coming in heavy before and now suddenly his chest is still against your back. You don’t let yourself question it. Instead you widen your stance and lean over, flattening your palms against the wall on either side of the mirror. In the reflection of the glass Steve gets a good look down your dress into the cleavage below. Looking behind you he gets a good look up your dress where it’s ridden up, revealing a pair of dainty lace panties.

The groan that rips through him seems to restart his lungs because suddenly he’s practically hyperventilating behind you. His hands land heavy on your hips and he grinds against you with even more purpose. Steve’s instinct is to ask again if you’re sure, but you hum a low “yess” and drop your head to hand between your arched shoulders. 

You’re into this. Maybe even as much as he is. It’s time to man the fuck up and take what he wants. What you want to give him. 

So Steve places his hand on the dip of your lower back to encourage a deeper arch. You oblige him, sticking your ass out further in the process, and he groans. 

“I’ll show you how you should be treated, babe, don’t you worry,” Steve says hoarsely. A thrill runs through you at his words but he continues. “But you have to do one thing for me.”

“Anything,” you answer breathlessly. You’re surprised by your own enthusiasm but you can’t help it, visions running through your mind of what he could ask of you. You mentally prepared yourself to drop to your knees, mouth already prematurely watering. 

“Acknowledge how sexy you are,” he says, suddenly wrenching you upwards so you can see yourself more fully in the mirror again. Your back is once more flush with his chest and you moan at the sight of his hand wrapping lightly, delicately around the base of your throat. 

“That....I’m...” you struggle with the words and then shake your head. Steve’s hand slides down and pulls at one strap and then the other, letting gravity do the work of exposing your breasts to the air and him. Steve’s eyes roll back and he bites his fist. 

“I mean come on,” he moans. He gestures to your chest. “What the fuck is this? You’re the hottest girl I’ve ever seen.”

You can barely meet his intense gaze in the mirror but try your best. 

“You...wouldn’t have dated me in high school.”

Steve blinks. Completely taken back by the juxtaposition of your sudden vulnerability and the absolute fantasy of having your body against him, tits out and ready to be fucked. It takes a second for his brain to work through it but then he’s laughing.

“We wouldn’t have even been friends in high school. I would have made fun you and Robin if we’d ever crossed paths. Probably would have beaten the shit out of Dustin if he’d been old enough. And you know why?” he asks. You’re confused by his laughter so you shake your head and he continues. “Because I was an absolute asshole. It’s a me problem. High school Steve was a dick and honestly you’re better off not even knowing him.”

His tone is flippant but you can see the strain in his features. He feels guilt about his past and you know that. You suddenly feel guilty for letting your insecurities drag up an ancient history that you know he’s more than happy to move past. Comforted, you squeeze one of his hands that now rests on your hip and smile.

“And these days you’re only sometimes a dick,” you tease. Steve’s smile becomes more genuine, but his features screw up when you catch him off guard and bend over again, grinding against his still present erection. His fingers dig into your hips harshly.

“I’ll show you a dick,” he hisses, pressing into you in a shallow thrust. It’s absurd and it makes you laugh, finally free of the tension that had coated everything up to this point.

“Please do, Harrington. You’ve kept me waiting,” you respond, impatiently wiggling your hips. Steve abruptly pushes the bottom of your dress up, exposing your ass and leaving all of the material bunched around your middle. He lands a slap against your right ass cheek that has you squealing, finding his eyes in the mirror. They glint with mischief.

“I know you liked that. You forget you’ve told me what gets you hot,” he says simply. You flashback to the weed fueled honesty session in the Family Video parking lot you both had had one night and tingles erupt at the thought of what else he might remember. But then you remember what he’d said.

“Yeah well you like it when a girl touches herself, right?” you say cockily, lifting one hand from the wall and brining it to slide from your jaw, down your neck, to cup your breast and play with your nipple. While doing so you accentuate the curve in your back. Steve watches, swallowing audibly, but then fast as lightning rips your hand away from yourself and presses it back to the wall. His full body doubles over yours. You gasp.

“Usually I do, yeah. But I’ve waited so long that right now only I get to touch this body, understand?” You’re nodding before you can even think about it. When he trusts that you’ll leave both your hands pressed to the wall, Steve let’s his hands return to you. He slides up from your knees to grip fully at your inner thighs. He manhandles your hips, moving them side to side in order to grind your ass against his tented jeans. He palms up your soft stomach beneath the bunched dress. And then he cups your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers, making you gasp again. His chuckle is low.

“See this is better. I’m the one who appreciates this body anyway. I should give her what she deserves.”

Your eyes are heavy lidded as they hold one another in the reflection. There’s hunger there that you’ve never known in your short lived sexual experience and suddenly you know for a goddamn fact that if this man is not inside you soon you will combust.

“Steve can you…can we just…?” You move against him impatiently and he leans in to kiss your neck with a chuckle.

“I’ve got you, babe. No need to beg.” The cockiness makes you roll your eyes but you hate that a fresh wave of wetness coats the tops of your inner thighs.

“I wasn’t gonna beg.”

“You weren’t gonna beg?” Steve asks, feigning shock. Your hands ball into fists against the wall.

“Pull your fucking pants down, Harrington.”

“Can do,” Steve says with a big grin. He unbuckles his belt and pulls down his jeans swiftly, in spit of how tight they are, leaving them and his underwear bunched at his thighs. He pushes you down farther and you have to strain to look up and watch him.

Over the curve of your ass you are treated to the sight of Steve Harrington stroking his massive cock. He hadn’t been called King Steve for nothing, that was for sure. His fist moves over it smoothly and with a familiarity that has you jealous of his fucking hand. Your eyes are wide and he seems pleased by your reaction.

“This work for you?” he teases. You bite your lip and consider your response.

“You’re sexy, Steve Harrington.”

A flush spreads across his face and down your neck and you’ve never been so smug in your entire life. But to his credit Steve clears his throat and grins.

“Thank you, babe,” he says before leaning over your body and rutting his cock against your core, leaving you gasping. He chuckles in your ear. “See, that’s how you take a compliment.”

“It’s not a compliment when it’s a fact, Steve,” you argue. But then he’s pulling down your panties and your legs begin to shake in anticipation.

“I don’t know because this is both a compliment and a fact - you’re fucking soaked!” he groans, running two fingers through your folds to collect the slick there. He flashes you a smile in the mirror that you can’t return because he suddenly sinks two fingers into you, causing your jaw to drop. “Which sexy thing in the mirror did this to you - you or me.”

“Shut - fuck. Shut up, Harrington,” you grit out.

He laughs and starts kissing your neck in tandem to his thrusting fingers. You bite back a moan, especially when his free hand lifts to play with your nipple. As someone who’d never been afforded much foreplay, you probably could have taken him two minutes into your argument, but Steve Harrington is warming you up. Getting you ready for him. And the realization makes you want to melt into a puddle at his feet.

When he adds a third finger and your hips work overtime, practically riding his hand, Steve finally pulls away, pressing a swirl into your clit that has you spasming as he takes his hand from between your legs.

“I think you’re good and ready,” he mutters, almost to himself. You nod feverishly up at him, swiveling your neck to try and see him directly. He shakes his head and nudges you back to the mirror. “No you’re gonna watch. You’re gonna watch me fuck you and see how well you take it.”

His words almost have your eyes rolling back in your head, but you hum an affirmative and go back to watching him in the mirror. Steve rubs the head of his cock through your folds and the way his face crumbles in pleasure has you absolutely preening. Then a sudden thought has your back rigid.

“Steve. Condom,” you say softly but urgent. His eyes snap open and he’s nodding immediately.

“Yeah sorry. Sorry!” He leans down and nips at the swell of your ass playfully and you yelp at the casual intimacy of it, heating up further as he reaches into the pocket of his bunched up jeans and pulls a foil packet from his wallet.

“How old is that?” you challenge with a cocked brow. He studies the packet for a second before looking up at you grinning.

“New enough that it’s not expired but old enough to have been collecting dust in there for a while,” he says, ripping it open and rolling the condom over his length. You bite your lip at the subtle confirmation that he hasn’t been with anyone else for a long time, trying to tamp down how good that makes you feel. Steve notices. “You like that? The fact that you’re the only one?”

You roll your eyes and repeat the refrain of the night.

“Shut up, Harrington.”

Steve pushes forward, one hand wrapped around the base of his dick, the other hand grounding on your hip. He spreads your folds with the head to cover himself in your slick. You sigh at the feeling.

“You’re not the only one whose been in a dry spell,” he says with a chuckle. You groan, letting your eyes slide closed while the hand that’s on your hip slips between your thighs to rub circles into your clit. He’s making you wetter. Prepping you further to accommodate his size. Again you feel overwhelmed by his attentiveness and how different this is from all your previous experiences. “You know the difference between us though, right?”

“Hm?” you ask, fully distracted by the pressure of his cock at your entrance and his finger on your bud.

“The difference is my dry spell is cuz I was waiting for you.” He says it simply. As if he’s not dropping a bomb on you in an incredibly intimate moment. Your eyes fly open and find his in the mirror and he’s grinning but this isn’t a joke. Your mouth opens to respond but the only thing that comes out is a moan when he chooses that exact moment to push all the way into you.

The feeling is otherworldly. It’s a stretch you’ve never felt and it’s got your legs turning to jelly and your face crumpling just on the line between pleasure and pain. You search for Steve’s face again in the mirror like a tether in a storm and he looks as overwhelmed as you feel. His eyes are screwed shut and he’s biting his lip so hard you’re worried because you sure as fuck want to kiss those plush lips again.

“St-Steve…” you all but whimper. He finds you in the mirror and looks almost distraught.

“Sorry yeah I’ll move it’s just…fuck.”

The desperation in his tone is such a boost to your ego that it’s got you rocking back into him.

“Feels good, Steve.” It comes out in practically a slur, but it seems music to his ears with the way he leans forward, gripping your waist and pulling out inch by inch.

“Feels incredible,” he contradicts before slamming back in. The suddenness of the movement has you clenching around him with surprise and he groans, fingers digging into your soft flesh. “Baby. Baby.”

Baby.

Not babe. Baby.

You hear the word ringing in your ears and your entire body reacts, letting him drive in even deeper somehow. It punches the air out of your lungs and you don’t let yourself think before responding.

“I like that.” It comes out in a rush. Steve huffs a laugh and starts finding a regular pace.

“You like that, huh? That the spot?”

“No,” you try responding but cut yourself off with a gasp. “I mean yeah, but no. I mean I…like you calling me baby.”

Steve’s eyes melt watching you. Saying sweet shit like that while taking his cock so well.

“Good. I wanna keep calling you baby,” he says quietly. 

Your gazes connect and you could swear your hearing cuts out. Time stops and everything in your view fades into fuzzy blurriness, leaving only room for him. Steve had slowed his thrusts, but as you focus on one another he renews his efforts. Not going faster, per se, but harder. Deeper. Your hands do what they can to keep you propped up against the wall, but soon your cheek is mashed against the mirror. You’re completely unable to stop the momentum of his thrusts from driving you forward with each upswing. 

“Defeats the purpose - fuck! Of the mirror if you’re not watching the show, baby,” Steve grunts out after a few minutes. Sweat has begun beading on his forehead and he’s losing patience with the distance between you. He’s enjoying fucking you from behind - it’s usually his favorite way of fucking - but there’s something missing. Before long he’s pulling out, much to your vocal protestation, and hauling you over to your long empty bed. 

“Wanna do this now,” he says as explanation. You don’t care. All you care about is the relief you feel when he sinks back into you. He has you on your back now, knees pushed up to your ribs. But you do care when everything comes into focus and you realize his face is right there. And the weight of his body is on you and around you and suddenly you need nothing more on this earth than to kiss him. 

So you do.

Steve hums into your mouth when you lurch up to press it to his. Your tongues fight for dominance and a line of saliva connects you when you finally part enough to pant for much needed air.

“Holy shit, Steve. Fuck!” You slam your head back down against the pillow, doing your best to lift your hips to meet each of his thrusts.

“I’m kinda mad we haven’t been doing this all along,” Steve admits with a grunting laugh.

“We were friends,” you reason, bucking against him when his fingers find your clit again. with the way he has you folded in half, the added stimulation has you rocketing towards orgasm at a breakneck pace.

“Aha, ‘were?’ So we’re not friends anymore?” Steve asks.

“How many friends have you been inside?” you ask, but then your eyes widen. “Never mind, I don’t want to know the answer to that.”

Steve barks out a laugh, shaking his head before pressing his forehead to yours.

“Only you, baby,” he says good-naturedly. “Don’t think I can settle for just friends now, though.”

“No?” you ask absently. You’re beginning to ascend and losing yourself in the feeling. He can tell by the way you’re beginning to spasm irregularly around him.

“No, I need the whole sexy package,” he teases. You hear even more than before at the implication. That he might want all of you, and for more than just this, in this moment. You bite your lip and don’t say anything but his lips find your throat and you whimper. Steve sounds impatient when he speaks again. “Tell me you want me, too.”

You blink up at the ceiling and sputter.

“Wh-what?”

Steve pulls back, his thrusts slowing to a roll. He looks a little more tense. A little more vulnerable.

“You’re not the only one who needs to hear it, you know.”

You almost laugh at that but swallow it when you see he’s serious.

“Of course I want you,” you respond firmly. “Obviously.”

“It’s not obvious to me…” he mutters, dropping eye contact. You crane your neck to follow him.

“Steve, you’re hot as fuck - ,”

“That’s not -,” he tries to cut you off dismissively but you continue over him.

“AND you’re my best friend. I love being with you. In any way.” You roll your pelvis and look shyly up at him when he meets your gaze again. “But I’ve been wanting this way the most.”

Steve perks up, his hand grabbing yours.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You wanted this?”

“Since that first time we spoke at Scoops Ahoy,” you confess. Steve’s thrusts come in faster now so your breathing picks up again. He snorts indignantly.

“I asked you out that day! You turned me down!”

“Well yeah, cuz I thought you were still a dick back then, Steve,” you reply with a massive smile. “We’ve been over this. Oh god…”

“You like this dick now, though, don’t you baby,” he intones, nothing but smooth Harrington charm. You don’t have it in you anymore to laugh or disagree.

“Mmmmhm…”

“You know you’re beautiful, right?” You seem just fucked out enough at this point that you finally won’t protest and he’s right. Your head lolls around on the pillow and you blink up at him dumbly. Steve takes in the bouncing of your breasts and the way your curves jiggle with each impact and he swears under his breath. “Gonna remind you how beautiful you are till you believe me, baby.”

He drives himself in all the way to hilt, holding himself there deep inside you till you’re clawing at him and clinging to him, moaning around gasps. Steve’s huge, but even better than that is the fact that he knows what to do with it. You ache with the supreme stretch of him. Pulse around his throbbing length in a way that makes you dizzy while you look up at him with glassy eyes that show you’re at least kind of understanding the depth of what he’s saying to you.

Steve can’t even begin to comprehend how he was lucky enough to finally find himself in this position. With you beneath him, staring up at him as if he hung the moon and the stars rather than simply stating plain, painfully obvious facts. He sees the crease in your brow as you wrestle with all the emotion he’s making you feel, however, and he wants to ease it. There’s been enough agony tonight. Right now, all he wants you to feel is pleasure.

“Hey,” he whispers suddenly, leaning forward and nuzzling his nose against yours as his thrusts start up again. A hazy smile lights up your features.

“Hey,” you respond weakly.

“Still worried you’re not fuckable?” he teases. You huff a laugh that barely sounds like one because Steve chooses that moment to return his fingers to your clit, making you whimper.

“You seem to…mmm. You like…oh fuck…”

“Easy for you to say,” Steve chuckles, but the heat’s not lost on him either at this point. His face is screwed up in pleasure and the arm holding him up beside you is beginning to shake. He’s so fucking close, he just needs you to cum first because no matter the growth he’s gone through, he’s still King Steve and he’s gotta break you first for his ego, damn it.

Finally you whimper the magic words.

“Steve! Oh…’m so close…there…”

Steve knows what that means, so he changes nothing about what he’s doing, just focuses on doing it better. A deeper push against your sweet spot. A harder swirl against your clit.

“Come on, baby, c’mon,” he talks you through it and then you’re crashing over the edge. Seizing in his arms and clamping down on him in every way possible. Constricting your arms and legs around him. Pussy spasming and locking him in, making it hard to continue to steadily pull in and out.

The sudden onslaught of pressure has Steve toppling over soon after. He lets out a guttural grown and buries his face in your neck, his hips stuttering into yours as he spills into the condom. Though it accepts none of his cum, your pussy milks his pulsing cock for all its worth. His shuddering breath matches your own and you gasp and cling to one another as you slowly come back to earth.

It’s quiet for a few minutes in the aftermath. Aside from your combined slowing pants, of course. Steve’s face is still buried in your neck and it takes a while for you to regain feeling enough to recognize that he’s administering soft kisses to the skin there.

It all floods back into focus. The fact that you had been getting ready for a party (one that you were now astronomically late to). The insecurities you had exposed to your best friend. The insecurities your best friend had exposed to you.

You want to be worried about it. You want to feel stressed about what this will do to your friendship and about how he will look at you when he finally pulls back and sees you sweaty and disheveled and…and…and…

And Steve pulls back to give you the softest smile you’ve ever seen. And he’s sweaty. And disheveled. And luminous. Before you even realize it you’re stretching out your hand to touch his cheek. His eyes slide closed as he leans into your touch. Turns to press a kiss into your palm.

Your lip quivers and you do your best to swallow any of the negative self talk that had tried to bubble to the surface. When Steve’s eyelids float open again he sighs.

“I know you were thinking about it, but we’re not making it to that fucking party. I don’t care what you say.”

The laugh you let out is strangled. Rocketed right back to old times and the root of your teasing friendship. You go to swat at him and he grabs your wrist, nipping at the back of your hand.

“Hey, it’s your fault for being so sexy. Think I got my fill fucking you once? Not a chance, baby.”

His grin lights up the room. You manage to match it.

“Shut up, Harrington.”

~*~

[rafeandonlyrafe]

pizza night

words: 2.2k

warnings: mentions/implications of sex but no actual smut, best friend!rafe, jealousy, angst but happy ending, friends to lovers, rafe with another girl, reader sleeps with kelce

“PIZZA NIGHT!” you shout, rafe letting out a whoop as you carry in the two boxes, plain cheese for you, and a mess of toppings for rafe.

“was worried you weren't gonna show up.” rafe glances at the clock. you're only about five minutes late, only running behind because the pizza place was busy and your order wasn't ready on time.

“as if i would miss our weekly pizza night.” you roll your eyes. you've had to shift times around occasionally to make sure you get the pizza night in, like for rafes football schedule, or you having to help your parents out at a fundraiser. for the past three years, it's been every thursday night, even both getting pizza from your respective locations while you facetime when you're not both in the outer banks.

“come here.” rafe opens his arms up to you. you step into his familiar hold, strong arms wrapping around you, tugging you against his chest. you inhale his scent, so uniquely rafe.

he's been your best friend for as long as you can remember, your parents being friends when both became pregnant around the same time. you did everything together. pizza nights started as plum puree, as your mom loves to joke.

“what do you wanna watch tonight?” rafe asks, knowing whatever you put on will soon become background noise to your chatting, rafe happy to listen to any gossip you have to say.

“umm…” you tap your finger against your chin as rafe plates your pizza for you, loading his plate with three slices for himself. you know he's already got your preferred drink sitting on the coffee table. “mulan.”

“sure.” rafe nods. he used to argue when he was younger. you'd want barbie swan lake or a romcom while he prefered superheroes and action. he learned throughout your friendship to just not fight it.

you immediately start to tell rafe the latest gossip, filling him in on everything he's missed since you saw him last, even though it was only two days ago.

“oh and you'll never guess!” you squeal. “callie, my friend from florida?” you see if the name jogs rafes memory, which he quickly nods. how could he forget. the one other friend that competes with him, despite you only seeing her for weeks at a time when you went to visit your grandparents in florida. “she's coming to the outer banks! she's gonna stay with us for the summer while her parents travel.”

“oh, nice.” rafe nods. he's happy for you, he really is, but he hopes she's not going to get in the way of his time with you, especially pizza night.

--

“girl, why didn’t you tell me rafe is hot as fuck?” callie giggles, looking out the window where rafe and a couple of his friends are chatting on the patio.

“ew.” you scrunch your nose up. you mean the criticism about callie finding him attractive, not about rafes looks, but callie doesn’t take it that way as she rolls her eyes.

“seriously, he’s so fine.” she slices into another lemon, handing one half to you as you squeeze it to make fresh lemonade.

you just frown. you don’t want callie to find rafe attractive and you’re not sure why the jealous feeling builds in your gut, so you quickly change the subject.

“wanna come to a party friday night? at kelces.” you question.

“oh my god, yes.” callie nods, helping you carry out cups while you bring out the pitcher of lemonade, pouring a glass for yourself and whichever one of your friends also wants one before sitting next to rafe.

callie takes the open spot on the other side of him as the conversation instantly strikes back up. you remain quieter than normal, eyes flicking between them as you watch them interact. you’re glad they’re getting along, truly, but you feel like gouging your eyes out when callie laughs and places her hand on his bicep.

“you okay?” rafe asks after everyone else had gone home, callie having taken your car back to your place to shower while you plan on asking rafe to drive you home.

“yeah.” you put on a wide smile. “whats up?”

“you just seem quieter than usual.” rafe watches your face carefully, noting the way your face falls before you perk back up with a shake of your head.

“nope, im fine. just glad you're getting along with callie!”

“speaking of…” rafe pulls his phone out, handing it to you. “can i have her number?”

“oh… yeah.” you nod quickly, grabbing his phone and typing in her number. you have it memorized along with rafes and your mom and dads, the only ones you’ve typed in enough to know by heart. “why do you want it though?”

“i thought i’d get to know her a bit.” rafe shrugs. 

“okay.” you force a smile on your face before standing up. “im gonna walk home. see you thursday for pizza night!”

“y/n, wait-” rafe tries to call you back, but you’ve already disappeared into the house.

--

you struggle to knock on the door with the pizza boxes in your arms. usually its unlocked, or rafe is there to open it for you the second your car pulls in the driveway.

“shit.” rafe opens the door, his face pale.

“what?” you shove past him, needing to set the cardboard boxes down.

you walk into the kitchen, going to place the boxes down on the counter when you realize there is already a box sitting there, opened up with a couple slices missing. you carefully slide the boxes out of your arms onto the marble before looking at rafe.

“i-i forgot-” rafe says as you look into the living room, seeing callie sat on the couch, her eyes on the television screen as she takes a bite of pizza. 

“you forgot about our pizza night?” you question, not even trying to hide your tears this time as they form in your eyes.

“i just didn’t realize it was thursday, y/n i-”

“its fine.” you shake your head, heading towards the door. you need to leave before your emotions explode. 

“y/n, please.” rafe grabs your hand right as you reach for the doorknob.

“no.” you turn around to look at rafe, knowing that there are tears streaming down your cheeks, yet you still attempt to force a smile. “no, go. have fun with her.”

you pull out of his grasp and leave, rafe standing on the front porch watching you drive away.

--

“coming to the party?” callie asks, wearing a tiny dress with high heels, showing off her flawless legs.

“nah.” you shake your head. “im feeling kinda tired.” 

“alright.” callie frowns, but doesn’t push you any farther as she walks towards the front door, looking back once before leaving. 

you are genuinely tired. you stayed up all last night waiting to hear callie arrive back at your house from rafes. she didn’t get home until 10 in the morning the next day. you know rafe has slept with girls before, but usually when he’s way too drunk after a party, and never with a girl you considered your friend.

you turn the tv on to a random channel, just needing something to distract yourself and stop you from crying again.

hours tick by as the sun sets, your eyes burning from staring at the television and holding back tears when a sudden knock on the door makes you jump.

you stand up, hoping its rafe, hoping he’s coming to apologize and to put all his attention back on you. you feel bad when you open the door and see its topper, your face no doubt giving away your disappointment.

“y/n, are you okay?” he asks. “you aren’t at the party.” he states the obvious as you stand in your sweatpants and a flimsy tanktop.

“just not feeling it.” you shrug. 

“is it… callie and rafe?” topper asks. he doesn’t need you to confirm as tears well in your eyes.

“i-i like him. i didn’t even realize until i saw them together.” you finally admit it to yourself why you’re so upset. 

“shit.” topper pulls you into a hug as you cry into his shirt, glad for his comfort as he rubs his hand up and down your back, hoping he can help you feel better.

“i shouldn’t be telling you this…” topper sighs. “but kelce has a crush on you. if you want to go to the party and… i don’t know, make rafe jealous back.”

“he won’t get jealous.” you shake your head. “he likes her.”

topper just stares at you with a look of pity. so in your head about your friendship that you can’t even put together the pieces that rafe likes you back.

you look down at your outfit. honestly, you can’t even manage to put on anything other than your crocs, you’re not going to change into a dress and heels just to dance up on a guy you don’t even really like.

“just come wearing that.” topper says, sensing your apprehension. “im serious, you look good. it’ll show how different you are then all the other girls there.”

you look back into your house at your couch, the tv still turned on before looking back to topper. he nods at you with encouragement.

“i need to get drunk immediately.” you tell him as he laughs, pulling you out the door.

--

you let out a groan as you turn over, snuggling into water warm body is wrapped around you as sleep slowly clears from your head.

“good morning, beautiful.” kelce says, making you blink your eyes open as the memories of last night come back, of ignoring rafe and callie dancing together as you move to kelce. topper was beyond right about the outfit as you captured the eye of most of the guys there, especially rafe as he tried to get your attention, but you were up in kelces room before he could steal you away.

it felt good to sleep with kelce, but not completely right.

“morning.” you smile. kelce is handsome, especially with the warm morning light shining in on the two of you, but your heart hurts as you wish it was rafes face you were looking into.

“can i have you again?” kelce asks, reaching down to grab your ass.

“yeah.” you nod with a smile. another distraction won’t hurt.

--

“where were you?” rafe asks as you arrive home, not expecting to see him snuggled up to callie on the couch.

“sleeping with kelce.” you say with a shrug. if rafe isn’t gonna hide his relationship with callie, you certainly aren’t going to hide what you were doing either.

“he doesn’t care about you, y/n.” rafe stands up, callies face shifting to one of worry as she looks between the two of you, realization sinking in. “he just wants to sleep with you.”

“okay, and?” you laugh, a bitter, spiteful laugh. “he’s got a big dick, and maybe i just wanted to sleep with him too.” 

you stomp away towards your room, blaring music from your speaker the second you’re inside. you don’t want to hear any noise rafe and callie might make as you flop down on your bed, quickly falling asleep despite the blaring music.

--

the music being turned down wakes you up as someone sits on your bed. you groan and turn onto your back, expecting to see rafe.

“callie?” you question, glancing at the bag slung over his shoulder and the suitcase sitting in your open doorway. 

you sit up quickly. “are you going to stay with rafe?”

“no.” she says with a gentle laugh and shake of her head. “im going back to florida.”

“what?” you question. 

“i didn’t mean to come between you and him. i thought you didn’t like him. i… i don’t want this to ruin our friendship, so i’m leaving. he was fun to be with, but it was never serious for either of us. he’s serious about you.”

the words sink in as you look to her with hope in your eyes. “you talked to him about it?”

“i did.” she smiles with a gentle nod, glancing towards the clock on your nightstand. “the taxi is waiting outside to take me to the airport.”

you shoot forward to wrap your arms around callie, pulling her into a tight hug. “thank you.” 

“of course.” she holds you back just as tight. “come visit me in florida, okay?” 

you nod enthusiastically before she gets up to leave. 

--

“finally.” topper sighs with relief as he opens the door to tanneyhill. “i’ve been trying to get him to go over and talk to you for the past four hours.” topper pulls you inside before you can even react. “seriously, you guys just need to date already. he slept with callie, you slept with kelce, and now you’re even. go make out.” topper shoves you into the living room before fleeing.

it takes a second for rafe to look up, his eyes red with tears.

“i had no clue.” rafe shakes his head. “i had no clue you liked me. i never would have done anything with callie if i knew. i thought i’d never get to have you, so i thought settling for your friend would be the next best thing.”

“i don’t like you.” you say before quickly clarifying. “i love you, rafe.”

rafe is standing and making his way towards you so quickly that you don’t even process his movements until his lips meet yours in a fierce kiss.

you hesitate for a moment before kissing back, feeling his arms wrap around your body, holding you tight to him, not allowing you to escape or leave ever again.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @sourkittie @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @raysmayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut @drewsephrry @1aarii1 @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie

[billybob598]

Monster (Alessia Russo x Reader)

What's up my mammals? anyways, this was requested originally as an air ambulance reader but I decided to switch it up a bit, if that's ok. i was planning on doing the olga fic next but I really wanna do a kcc fic so I might work on both. enough of me, though. like always, any feedback good or bad is welcomed! Happy reading!

Word Count: 2k (I mean...COME ON MOTHERTRUCKERS)

Warnings: Swearing, a bit of violence, emotional crisis

“Ooh, how about this one?” Alessia says from above you while pointing at a picture in the magazine you were holding. 

“Mmm, no I don’t like that one,” you respond, shaking your head. Alessia pouts, begrudgingly flipping the page. The two of you were engaged to be married and were currently picking out tables for your reception. You continue to flip through the magazine pages as you lie between your fiancee’s legs. After a few more minutes of vetoing each other's choices, you both decided to take a break. You get up and start making some coffee while Alessia takes a little longer to get out of bed. Just as you’re pouring the coffee into your mugs, Alessia calls you to the bedroom,

“Y/N! Come here now!” Startled, you hastily head towards your shared room.

“Everything okay, love?” Peeking around the corner you find your girlfriend, white as a ghost, your phone a few inches away from her ear. Rushing over, you carefully remove the phone from her hand and put it beside your ear. “Who is this?” 

“Lieutenant Y/L/N, good to talk to you again,” the unmistakable deep voice says through the speaker. Unknowingly, you stand up straighter. Shoulders back, chest puffing out. 

“Sir,” you say, your voice miles different than the one you were just speaking to Alessia in.

“I’m going to get straight to the point, you’re being deployed. I’ll send you the details and your flight information. I’m not asking, soldier,” his tone left no room for arguing. You sigh, glancing over at Alessia who watched and listened to your conversation intently. 

“Sir, with all due respect, is there no one else that you could take?” You say exasperated.

“Are you saying you don’t want to serve your country, Lieutenant?” 

“No, no, not at all. But, you see I’m getting married in a few months here, sir.”

“Well, in a few months, you’ll be back. As I said, this isn’t a request.” With a sigh you nod and mutter out a “yes sir” before hanging up the phone and turning to look at the Arsenal striker.

“Less?” She doesn’t respond. She’s rooted to the spot. Her mind racing at a million miles an hour. They were going send you and hundreds of other British soldiers in there to fight a military that looked very far from surrendering. No. She couldn’t let you go like that. She was this close to finally being able to call you her wife. There was no chance in hell that she’d let you slip through her fingers like that. She’s broken out of her thoughts by your hand gently grasping hers. 

“Sorry, what?” She asks, meeting your eyes for the first time since receiving the phone call.

“Are you okay, Less?” You speak softly while slowly caressing the back of her hand. 

“Mhm, of course I am. Not like they’re deploying you into a country in absolute carnage or anything,” she mutters, her frustration getting the better of her.

“Baby, come on now. You know I can’t control this and it’s my job. It’s what I signed up for, it’s what you signed up for,” you reason.

“I know it’s what I signed up for, but what I didn’t sign up for is you leaving for duty with only a few months until we’re supposed to get married,” her voice stern. 

“Baby, I can’t say no, I’ll get dishonourably discharged. I’ll be fine Alessia, don’t worry,” you try to reason, getting a bit frustrated. Your girlfriend nods her head sadly. 

“Okay, okay. You’re right, you have to go. But, you have to call at least once a day, deal?”

A grin comes across your face as you pull her into a soft kiss, “Deal.”

A few weeks later, you’re tiredly peeling off your combat dress. Throwing the last few bits of armour onto the ground, you sigh and lie down on the bottom bunk. After a long day of bullets, bombs, and blood all you want to do is get just a few minutes of sleep before you’re put back on patrol duty. Just as your eyes begin to shut, your phone rings. The special ringtone you have set indicates who it is. 

“Hey, love!” Your favourite blonde’s cheery voice exclaims through the speakers.

“Hi Lessi,” you mumble out, tiredly. She frowns. 

“Everything okay, love?” 

You try to muster up a convincing smile, “Yeah, yeah everything’s fine, baby. Just tired is all.” Alessia isn’t convinced by your attempts, however.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” she says softly. 

“It’s okay, baby. How about you tell me about your day,” you sigh, obviously not wanting to talk. The striker nods and begins to talk in great detail about her day. You nod along and throw a question in every once and a while. After almost thirty minutes, you begin to yawn and your eyelids get heavier and heavier by the second. 

“How about you go to sleep now, honey,” Alessia’s soft, sweet voice whispers to you. 

“Mmm, okay. Don’t hang up, though,” you mumble sleepily. 

“Why not?”

“I don’t wanna be alone, please,” Alessia’s heart cracks slightly at how sad and scared you sound. 

“Of course, baby. I’ll be right here, you go to sleep now,” she coos. Within thirty seconds you’re out. Alessia laughs quietly and continues to get ready for training. She puts herself on mute as she goes about her day. While she was eating her breakfast with the team, she was teased relentlessly. It was fine by her though, she was just happy to see your face. And to see that you were finally resting. She knew that you weren’t exactly getting your 7-8 hours of sleep, so seeing you sleeping, if only for a bit, brought her some peace. 

As Alessia and Kyra Cooney-Cross were walking through the halls, on their way to the changeroom, a sudden and loud bang could be heard from your side. Startled, Alessia looks at her phone only to find you wide awake, eyes big. 

The striker unmutes herself, “Y/N, love, is everything okay?”

Your eyes widen even further when you hear her voice, “Err, yeah, everything’s good.” Alessia is not convinced at all.

Even less so when she hears a random voice yell through the night, “We’re under attack!” This springs you into action, you rush to put on your combat dress. Alessia is rooted to the spot. This couldn’t be happening, could it? Grabbing your phone, you sprint out of the barrack and towards the weaponry. Flinging the door open, you and a dozen other soldiers rush to grab rifles or pistols or anything really. 

“Less, I’ve got to go…” you say loudly, over the bullets and shouts.

“Y/N? Are you okay? What’s happ-” Alessia is cut short when you hang up. Tears are already filling her eyes as Kyra pulls her into a tight hug.

“I’m sure she’s gonna be okay,” Kyra says into her ear. 

Adrenaline coursing through your veins, you tuck your phone away.

“Y/L/N! Take a team. Try and see if you can get in behind them,” One of your superior officers tells you. Nodding, you pick seven other people and lead them into the darkness. Everyone was silent as you trekked through the desert. Every once and awhile someone would say something over the radio or there would a random burst of gunfire, making everyone’s head swivel. The tension was palpable. It felt that if anyone so much as breathed a hair too loudly, that you’d be discovered. In the distance you could see the tanks and soldiers going at it. The eight of you continued on, nerves only increasing the closer you got to the enemies camp. After twenty more minutes of walking, your little group was only a few hundred metres out from their first line of defence. Suddenly, there was a round of shots fired. Shit, they’d seen you. Everyone scattered as best they could. That was the downside of warfare in the desert, there was nowhere to hide. 

“This way! Come on, run!” You yell into the blackness, hoping someone had heard you. Loading your rifle, you turned and fired a few shots back, giving enough time for everyone else on your team to take cover behind a sand ridge. When the final person ran past you, you turned and sprinted up the massive hill. You were almost at the top when the guy in front of you hit the ground with a grunt. Blood almost immediately leaking through the back of his shirt. “Come on, come on, man.” You grabbed his arm roughly and dragged him behind you. Reaching the peak of the ridge, you pulled the two of you down the other side.

“Ahh, fuck,” he mutters out. Quickly, you and another soldier cover up his wound. 

“You’re gonna be fine, mate,” you say to him, “Keep applying pressure.” The other soldier nods and ensures that their hands are covering everything. “Alright guys, we have two options. One, we turn back, try to use this ridge as cover and try to make it back to base. Two, some of us stay here and try and snipe them. The others move in and try to take out their tanks. I saw them, they’re not very heavily guarded and I bet we could rush them and take out them out.”

Everyone looks around at each other. A few of them shrug non-chalantly. Finally, Colgate, a Second Liuetenant who had been given his nickname from the odd spelling of his last name, spoke up, “Let’s blow these motherfuckers.” Hearty laughs erupt from everyone.

Two people set up as snipers while the wounded guy also grabs his rifle to try and contribute. The restof you talk over the plan, deciding on two rushing to the left and taking out any guards covering the side and the rest go through the middle. 

“Okay, everyone ready?” You ask to the group. You get nods in response, “Let’s roll out then.” 

Stalking through the night, every footstep sounds painfully loud. The five of you successfully get to the tanks, two taking cover behind some storage container. The other three of you hide behind an abandoned car. Giving the go-ahead signal, everyone surges forward. Pressing down on the trigger of your gun, your arms shake from the recoil. You direct the bullets at the few guards standing around. If you weren’t able to see the bullets coming from beside you, you wouldn’t of known that anyone else was shooting. Everything seemed so distant, you could barely make out the sound of your own gun firing. As each one of the soldiers dropped, you rushed forward. Reaching into the backpack hanging off your back, you took out enough grenades to blow everything within their blast radius to bits. Placing them strategically around the tanks, you made sure everyone was ready to run before lighting the spark. Everyone started to sprint towards the snipers, who were covering you. As you began to run, you paused, looking down at the people you had just killed. A lump forms in your throat. You had killed them. You shot them with real bullets, not those Nerf darts you used against your siblings. They were dead. They were real people. Their families were going to get those letters, the same ones you swore you would never let Alessia get. 

“Jesus Christ, Y/N. Run!” A yell breaks you out of your thoughts. Remembering your current situation, you get going again, barely making it behind the sand ridge in time. The explosion rings through your ears, the sight of the fireball stretching upwards was spectacular. All eight of you let out a sigh of relief. You were safe, no one was going to find you, especially since they were all to preoccupied with checking on their tanks.

You sat down in the sand, putting your head in your hands. Tears slowly fall from your eyes. War had turned you into a monster. You killed without a second thought. You didn’t want to be here. The only place you wanted to be was in your Alessia’s arms. Preparing for your storybook wedding with the love of your life. Instead, here you were, in the middle of an all-out war, killing complete strangers for no apparent reason other than you were told to.

Monster.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

What the Workers See

I wanted to write Hyena!Danny at work as Hood's second in command.

Hyena!Danny Masterpost

tw: physical abuse

Jason had been delighted when Danny had presented him the ideas for his Hyena costume, helping him sort out the details and reminding him to add armour. Danny had argued he’d heal anyways so there wasn’t any point, and surely the armour would make it less sexy! Jason had just rolled his eyes and reminded Danny that he was trying to keep his powers secret, and if Nightwing could look like that in his heavily armoured suit Danny would be fine. 

He had sighed and relented, asking for help to get some of the materials he would need, which Jason happily provided. Danny worked on it in their free time, and Jason watched with fascination as Danny’s nimble fingers and equally quick mind fingered out the construction and problem-solved any roadblocks. It was impressive, and when it got to the try on stage most of them ended with the suit on their bedroom floor by the end, Jason just loved it. He particularly loved the choice of the collar.

One rational corner of his mind mentioned he should probably talk to Danny about the power imbalance and the fact that Jason was definitely possessive and abusive. But the other half of his mind fucking purred at the sight of Danny in the collar and catsuit and that part won out, Jason didn’t mention it. 

When it was finally time to unveil Hyena Jason called a meeting of all his goons. The ones that worked for him consistently, not the villain hoppers or the temp workers, they’d find out eventually. If he called everyone who worked for him sometimes he’d need a fucking football field, this would do. As he knew they would they all came, gathering and mingling in the warehouse in front of the makeshift stage.

Jason hopped up onto it about ten minutes after the time he’d told everyone to be there, once he was sure everyone who was coming was here, and Danny was here. “I know you’re all nervous about why the fuck I called you all here. First off let me assure you it’s nothing bad and not a fucking scheme. I have an important introduction and an announcement.” He said and made a hand signal.

Danny, the dramatic bastard that he was dropped down from the rafters and landed on overly light feed on the stage. He grinned behind his muzzle and made a little ‘tada!’ motion that made Hood role his eyes fondly. 

“This is Hyena. He will be working with me from now on. If I am not here you take orders from him in my place, obey him like you would me.” He explained and Hyena gave a dramatic little bow and a cackling laugh. “Is that understood?”

“Yes Boss,” People chorused, looking a little nervous and curious about the new person still. Hyena would have to do some work earning their respect and trust but Jason knew that Danny was more then up for the task. 

---------

As the fighting wound down Jason looked over the damage. It wasn't to bad, but it was so fucking unnecessary, there shouldn't have Been another gang trying to operate out of his territory, under his fucking nose! Did they really think he wouldn't notice? They should have just left when he confronted them, not actually initiated a fight! Now they had bodies to deal with, of those who didn't run, and a bunch of injured people.

A loud whistle made Jason jump slightly before he glanced over to Hyena, who was taking charge. He beckoned a couple field medics forward and cupped his hands around his muzzle to yell over the crowed. 

"If You'd rather go to a real hospital clear out! you need stitches line up here, if you need a bone set, line up there," Hyena directed before glancing around as people straggled into lines. Not many left to go to a actual hospital, in Gotham people tended to be suspicious of doctors, and field medics got a Lot of practice.

"You two!" Danny pointed at two goons who jumped. "You're unhurt, I saw you hide when the fighting got bad. You carry anyone who can't wait in line to the front for emergency care, then we'll talk about reassigning you."

Jason hadn't noticed that, but he was usually too caught up in the fight once blood started to spill so that wasn't Overly surprising. He was grateful Danny had. 

The two singled out looked sheepish and started to obey Danny's commands, checking on those on the ground and either dragging the dead to one side or carrying the living over to Hyena and the other medics. Danny grabbed one of the first aid kits the medics had brought in, ignoring their disproving look, it faded quickly as Hyena started efficiently, and correctly tending to those who needed stitches.

Jason wasn't surprised, Danny had stitched Jason up more then once and he had always done a damn good job. Jason loved seeing Danny liked this, in his element, taking charge and taking care of people. It reminded Jason how much he loved Danny, and it was hot as hell. 

Jason approached Danny, who glanced up at Jason from the wound he was cleaning on a goons arm who was looking away from the blood looking a little green. "Hey Boo, are you hurt?" Danny asked. Jason could hear in his voice that he was smiling even though his muzzle his it.

"No, I'm perfectly fine," Jason assured, he was bruised but he wasn't bleeding anywhere and he could move all of his extremities. 

"Good, I'm glad you're okay. Now make yourself useful and go grab some more clean water," Danny directed him, focusing back on his work.

Jason laughed, if anyone else talked to him like that he'd probably blow a gasket, but Danny was allowed. Jason looped an arm around Danny's waist and leaned his forehead against the top of the other man's head for just a moment, wishing their masks weren't in the way so he could kiss Danny. Jason let go again almost immediately before Danny could start fussing at him for being in the way. 

"You got it Cub," Jason assured fondly, striding off to make himself useful as well.

--------

Unfortunately not every fight went well. They couldn’t win everything, and sometimes the people Hood was after got away. It was another fight, fucking Black Mask had tried to move in on Hood’s territory! Unusual for the cowardly little weasel, he had decided to come himself and join in the fight.

It was absolutely the perfect opportunity to kill the creep once and for all! And maybe Hood was a little too fixated on that, because he was on a fucking one frack mind trying to get to Mask. Hyena was covering his back, and giving orders while he wasn’t paying attention to what was going on, compensating for his tunnel vision though he didn’t notice that. 

What he certainly did notice was when Hyena yanked him back. Mask had called a retreat and was on his way out. Hood had been about to give chance into what was definitely a trap, or at the very least a bad idea to abandon his people and run into a gang of… however many people Mask had left, Jason had not been counting.

It wasn’t a smart thing to do to follow Mask, but that didn’t mean that Jason was fucking okay with Danny manhandling him! He was furious, he was consumed by green blood lust and obsession, and he absolutely would not see reason. 

Hyena was trying to say something but Jason didn’t hear what it was past the blood rushing in his ears. He swung around and struck Hyena hard sending him stumbling back, Jason could see a little blood from where the metal of the muzzle had cut Danny’s cheek under the force of Jason’s blow. 

“Hood,” Hyena pleaded, holding out his hands towards Jason. “Listen, you can’t-”

“Don’t tell me what I can’t do,” Jason snarled, advancing on Danny again, though at least he wasn’t still trying to follow Black Mask anymore. Danny didn’t shield his body when Jason punched him in the stomach clinging to his arm instead, forcing him to stay close and to pause. 

“We’re in public, people are watching,” Danny wheezed, big blue eyes fixed on Jason’s face. He recoiled when he saw tears gathering at the corners, Danny had never looked so… genuinely hurt when Jason had hit him before. But then again, he’s always done it in private before. 

Shit! They weren’t in private! 

Jason looked up and around them, at his people watching them with horror and shock. He saw judgment, anger and disgust there too and shame joined the uncomfortable roiling of emotion in his gut. “We’ll deal with your anger when we get home,” Danny said softly, letting go of Jason’s arm and resting his hands either side of Jason’s helmet instead, making him look back at Danny, focus on him. “I can handle this if you need to go calm down.”

“No, I’ll be fine,” Hood said, gently brushing his fingers over the bruise on Danny’s cheek. It wasn’t healing, he didn’t know why. Could Danny… stop himself from healing? Did he have that much control?

“Good,” Danny said, leaning in to Jason’s touch. “I’ll be fine. Let’s get this over with.” 

Jason nodded and the two of them separated and took control of the situation again, Danny starting to give orders regarding medical care as always, and Jason starting to direct repairs, and plans for retaliation against Mask.

Most of his goons seemed to snap out of their shock and start following orders on instinct, though Jason couldn’t help notice the worried looks that were being directed at Danny in particular. And it seemed Danny did too and was getting sick of it. 

With everyone either treated or being treated he hopped up on a random crate and glared over the room with narrowed eyes. “Of anyone has something to say then fucking say it!” He demanded in an angry hiss that still carried throughout the room. 

When nervous looks were shot Hood’s way he shrugged, spread his hands, and then gestured back at Hyena. Red Hood wasn’t going to interfere, so answer Hyena’s question. 

After a awkward moment one brave soul seemed to appoint themselves the spokesperson and shuffled forward, Danny’s eyes fixed on them, raising an eyebrow. 

“We’re just worried I guess? We all know the two of yous are together, and you know it’s not right for him to hit you right? We all saw the way that Harley was treated and I know you two-”

“We’re nothing like them,” Hyena cut in scowling. “And our relationship is none of your business. If I wanted to stop him I could, we do things the way that works for us. It’s not your place to question it, and I don’t want any of you fucking worrying about me. God forbid if I ever catch anyone pitying me I’ll show them exactly how big of a mistake they’re making. 

“And don’t you fucking judge Hood either. I told him he could do that. I started it. You should mind your own business,” He practically snarled. He hopped down from his makeshift soapbox and stalked passed all the goons without looking at them. “Let’s go home,” he said, grabbing Jason’s hand and leading him away. 

Jason was so grateful to Danny for defending him, and he had a feeling he owed his boyfriend some flowers and a very nice dinner for putting him in a position where he had to. 

[rishiguro]

HAIKYUU CHARACTERS WHEN YOU‘RE SICK

a/n: hello flu season, you make me write purely self-indulgent shit because i turn into a needy child when i‘m sick

warnings: mentions of meds. one f-bomb.

jjk version

SUNA RINTAROU: can’t help but tease you for it

“i told you to put on a jacket and dry your hair before you go out,” he muttered amused as he watched you huddle into the living room, wrapped into your thick blanket. you rolled your eyes at him, to which he immediately held up his hands. “don’t look at me like that, you know i’m right” you couldn’t help but pout at him, whispering curses annoyed. “you know damn well that that’s not how viruses work,” you grumbled. “then why are you sick now?” he retorted, smiling. “fuck you” you turned around to go back into the bedroom. “oh, come here you big baby” your boyfriend opened his arms and gestured you to come closer, offering to cuddle with you. “i hate you sometimes,” you muttered under your breath as you walked up to him, falling into his arms and laying your head on his chest. “i love you too”

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI: decks you in with every remedy he can get his hands on

he looked at all the meds on the table after carefully reciting the benefits of each one word-by-word, remembering everything the pharmacist had told him. “are you sure you got everything you need? i can run out to the pharmacy again, it’s not a problem,” he offered after a short pause. you let out a quiet laugh, nodding confidently. “i’m sure i’ll be fine, ‘toshi. promise,” you stated, reaching out to grab his hand. “okay” admittedly, it was adorable just how overboard he went the second he heard you sneeze. you probably just caught the flu somewhere, nothing that couldn’t be cured with rest and maybe a few meds. when you texted your boyfriend, asking him to pick some up for you, you surely didn’t expect him to enter your home with the whole pharmacy in his bag. you grinned, your heart warming at his silly, but incredibly caring gesture. “what are you laughing at?” he asked confused. “nothing,” you assured him quickly, giving his cheek a peck before leaning into him and his warmth. “i’m just happy you’re here with me”

KITA SHINSUKE: keeps a respectable distance but doesn’t fail to make you feel cared for

following a soft knock, the door to your dim bedroom was opened with your boyfriend stepping into the room. “i made you some tea” he spoke softly as he put the mug down on the small table next to you. he proceeded to quickly feel your forehead, nodding when he realizes that your temperature has gone down. “and some soup is currently cooking on the stove, i’m gonna bring you a bowl later” he smiled softly at you, giving your forehead a peck. “i’ll be in the living room, yeah?” he turned to leave, making sure to not close the door behind him. he then turned around and took another look at you. “the door’s open, love, so just say the word and i’ll be here, no need to strain your voice” you smiled weakly at him. “thank you” he nodded. “i love you,” he whispered to you. “i love you too,” you replied. he turned to leave, but stopped when you called out to him again. he hummed, waiting for you to continue. “can i get a hug? just a quick one,” you mumbled, almost sounding shy, “please” he smiled, immediately making his way over to you. “you don’t have to ask, anything you want”

HINATA SHOYO: latches himself onto you and ends up getting sick too

you groaned, trying to push him off you, but finishing yourself too weak to actually do so. his head was buried in the crook of your neck with his arms wrapped tightly secured around you, not wanting to let you go. you sighed in defeat. “shoyo, i love you, but you’re gonna get sick of you keep doing this” “nuh-uh” he denied, shaking his head, his hair tickling your skin. “yes you will,” you insisted, your hands however finding their way on his back, softly running your nails over it. he kept denying it however and soon after you couldn’t find the energy to keep arguing with him — and you really didn’t want him to leave (not like you’d tell him and give him an actual reason to stay). and just about two weeks later, you’d be the one tending to him, not failing to tease him about his sickness. it didn’t matter to him though, he’d get sick a thousand times over if it meant he could stay close to you.

KUROO TETSUROU: loves to berate you but will drop everything to take care of you

he groaned when he saw you in his field of vision, raising his eyebrows at you with hands stemmed into his hips. “i told you to stay under the covers” he shook his head, pointing into the direction of your bedroom and motioning you towards it. “back under the blanket, come on” you whined. “it’s too hot, tetsurou, i’m sweating” you shivered as you spoke, your arms wrapping around your midsection. honestly, you just needed to see some things that weren’t the walls or the ceiling of your room. you’d take anything at this point. “that’s the point! you need to sweat it out!” he claimed, gesturing with his hands. “can i at least take a shower first? or just get changed? i feel disgusting, my clothes are literally drenched in sweat,” you spoke after sighing in defeat. there was no point in arguing with him, especially when you knew that he was right. “hop into the bathroom, i’ll get you some new pajamas”

reblog & comment to support your fanfic writers !

[thenickgirl]

BSF!Nick HeadCanons

nick x fem!reader

disclaimer: this is all fictional, and based on my own conclusions.

warnings: kinda long, very very self-indulgent, pure fluff, swearing.

Nick as your best friend:

⚤ he loves to spend time with you, always asking you to come over and keep him company.

⚤ the two of you are so close and so comfortable with each other that you tell each other everything, the good, bad, and the ugly.

⚤ he’s protective, not overly, but you always know that you’re safe with him. he’s not letting any hate get to you, and if it does he’s always there to comfort you. he doesn’t hesitate to put haters in their place when it comes to you, not caring about any backlash it could cause him.

⚤ you both send tik toks and instagram reels back and forth all day long.

⚤ you share locations with each other, and anytime he checks and sees that you’re somewhere he doesn’t recognize he’s calling you immediately:

“bitch! where the fuck are you???”

“nick, are you fr checking my location again?”

“yes, now take your fast ass home”

⚤ when you’re sick, he’ll come over and help take care of you. attempting (failing) to make you soup, but then decides to just order in from panera. he’ll cuddle up with you while you watch movies or some reality tv show.

⚤ he’s always teasing and making fun of you, you both playfully argue so much that people on the outside think you actually hate each other.

⚤ you’re on the phone with each other for literal hours, whether it’s texting, on a call, or on FaceTime.

⚤ if you’re in college, he’ll make sure you stay on top of your studies. he’ll never let you put off schoolwork just to go hang out with him:

“nick come onnn, i can study when i get back, it’s fine i promise”

“un uhh, nope! you’re not gonna blame me when your ass fails”

“but ni-“

“GO STUDY Y/N”

⚤ he loves when you go shopping or thrifting together. he’ll pick out outfits for you to try, and you do the same for him. the both of you hyping each other up when you come out of the dressing rooms.

“yesss girl, you look so amazing in that dress!”

“says you, i love that shirt on you, it’s definitely your color!”

⚤ he’s a big foodie, and so are you. so breakfast and/or lunch dates are a staple in your friendship. he loves going to your favorite restaurant or cafe to just sit and talk about whatever and whoever. sometimes you like to try out new places and add them to your list.

⚤ he’ll send you flowers or candy on valentine’s day because he’s such a sweetheart, and never wants you to feel alone or unloved.

⚤ he’s always gassing you. he never hesitates to call you pretty or gorgeous, saying how much he loves your outfit, your hair, or your new bag. he’s your number one hype man for sure. you of course, are the same way with him never passing up an opportunity to let him know he’s so handsome and the baddest bitch.

⚤ you’re pretty much the ceo of the nick defense team, always on go when it comes to people being disrespectful towards him.

⚤ he’s basically your personal photographer. he loves taking your pictures for you, and you love to brag about his skills. he loves when you take pictures together as well, adding them to his photo dumps, giving very much bff goals.

⚤ since he doesn’t drive he loves riding with you, he even bought a “passenger princess” sticker to put on your glovebox just for shits and giggles. sometimes you guys would just spend the day riding out, blasting music and singing along, snacking on the random goodies you pick up along the way, just simply enjoying each others company.

“bitches be quick but i’m quicker”

“bitches be thick but i’m thicker”

*both*

“SHE COULD BE RICH BUT IM RICHER!”

⚤ if you’re in a relationship or get into one, he’ll be very protective over you, yet respectful of your relationship. he’ll make friends with them, and try his best to get along for the sake of your friendship. he’ll even plan group outings so you all can hang out together and get to know each other.

⚤ however, the second you call him in the night crying, he’s ubering over to your house to comfort you. he’ll hug you and wipe your tears, reassuring you that you deserve so much better than them.

“you’re amazing and i love you so much, y/n. you didn’t deserve that, and if you want, we can go egg their car right now”

“you get the eggs, i’ll start the car”

“BET!”

⚤ he doesn’t believe in fighting with friends. any arguments between the two of you wouldn’t last very long, you’ll always end up talking things out and laughing about it later.

⚤ he loves to include in the videos, especially any challenges they do like the baking videos. you always get front seat if you’re ever in the car videos, and he makes sure you get to speak.

⚤ he absolutely loves the bond you have with his brothers, and you would tease him about liking one of them solely to get on his nerves:

“matt has been looking really good lately..”

“y/n i swear to god…”

“what?? i’m just being real”

“i’ll actually kill you both”

“bitch, shutttt up! you love me too much”

“you’re right. now stop talking about matt before i throw the fuck up”

⚤ if the stars happen to align where you and one of his brothers fall in love and actually get together, he’ll be so annoyed at first, not willing to share you. eventually he’ll be okay with it, just happy that you both are happy, as long as you keep the pda out of his line of sight.

⚤ he fucking loves your cooking. he knows better than get in your way by trying to help so he’ll sit at the table and watch you. you don’t mind his company at all while you’re cooking, even letting him taste test which he never refuses. he’s constantly calling or texting to see what’s on your menu:

“please please PLEASE tell me you’re cooking tonight. i cannot eat in n out again”

“well, i guess i am now”

⚤ you always have him, matt, and chris over on Sunday’s. you love giving them the ultimate sunday dinner experience. you make sure you cook more than enough so they have some to take home as well.

⚤ any time one of you sees those cute and fun best friend date activities on tik tok or instagram, you’re instantly texting it to one another, making plans to try it out.

⚤ when you take him out to the club or a just night out with the girlies, he’s having the time of his life. he’s hyping you up while you’re dancing and throwing it in a circle. he’ll capture every second to show to you later cause you’re so gone you won’t remember a thing. the next day he’s asking you to teach him how to twerk like that for the next outing.

⚤ since you have similar music taste, you love going to concerts and festivals together. all in coachella with your matching crop tops and boots, turning heads left and right. you two are literally glued to the hip the whole weekend, holding hands and jumping around, dancing to the beat just loving the experience.

⚤ he absolutely loves sleepovers, and he’ll always be the one to suggest them. he’ll have a space for you in his closet and at his sink because of how often you stay over.

“bro is there a reason you called me 15 times??”

“uh is this the body scrub that you use? i’m gonna get it for my bathroom so you don’t have to keep bringing yours every time”

“nick, you really could’ve just tex-“

“YES OR NO??!”

⚤ whenever you sleep over, you always do your nighttime and morning skin routines together. ‘faerie soirée’ playing softly on the portable speaker while you go through your skincare steps, singing along, and swaying your hips to the beat.

⚤ he is obsessed with the different ways you style your hair. his jaw drops every time you pull up with something new. he was completely gobsmacked when you showed up with a 30 inch bust down after just rocking your natural fro, then two weeks later in some knotless braids down to your knees. he’s always asking your opinion on his next hair color, but you beg him to keep his natural hair for a while longer.

⚤ he always waits to get his nails done with you so you both can match. in the days before your appointments with analysse, he’s sending you different ideas he sees on pinterest for you both to choose from only to ultimately decide to just let analysse freestyle.

⚤ when it comes to his brand, space camp, he’s always giving you the sneak peeks. he’ll let you be the first one to try the newest flavor because he trusts your judgment, and knows that you’ll always be honest with him:

“okay, what about this one? did you like it?”

“friend, i ain’t gone hold you…that shit nasty as fuck”

“well damn bitch, tell me how you really feel. okay, we’ll scrap that one”

⚤ he loves when you come to boston with him to visit his family. mary lou and jimmy absolutely adore you, and so does all his hometown friends nate, mckayla, and chloe.

⚤ the snap streaks between you two go crazy. you’re both constantly snapping each other the most random shit.

⚤ he’s always telling you about the guys he’s crushing on or talking to. he’ll ask you if you think they’re cute or not, and wants advice on what to say to them. if they send him nudes, better believe he’s immediately sending them to you for you both to talk (or laugh) about:

“girl you won’t believe what he just sent me”

“ouuu how big is it?”

“bitch, i’ve seen baby carrots bigger than that”

“BLOCKED!”

⚤ on halloween, you guys love to find matching costumes (when he’s not matching with matt and chris) and sometimes the four of you would find costumes to match together.

⚤ on your birthday, don’t be surprised to find yourself plastered all over his story. he’s posting a photo dump of you together with a lil paragraph, going on and on about how amazing his best friend is. you’ll have gifts galore from him, matt, and chris.

⚤ he’s super supportive of whatever you do, helping you in any way you can to achieve whatever it is you need to.

⚤ he’s the perfect best friend and he takes the bond that you have very seriously, never letting anyone or anything jeopardize it.

🏷️: @muwapsturniolo @mattslolita @guccifrog @luverboychris @freshloveforthefit @matty-bear @sturniolossss @imsosillygoofylol @nickgetsmewetter @mybelovednick @moonk1ss3d @ghostking4m @certifiednatelover @meg-sturniolo

[princessbrunette]

babydaddy!jj still being hopelessly in love with reader. constantly finding reason to be at her place, fixing anything if it breaks, having play dates with your daughter that lead you him sleeping over and waking up to you making him breakfast while he feeds your daughter. all the emotions come running back and he just knows he wants to make you his wife. maybe he’d just blurt it out because he can’t help himself

this. he is relentless. constantly showing up unannounced just to ask you the most random question.

୨ৎ . ⸝⸝ ! 🌙 ꒱

when you open the door you look all stressed and tired and you have coffee down your top and he just wants to make your life easier and help you so bad! cocomelon is on full blast, your baby is loudly babbling and shouting and you’re just simultaneously relieved at his presence but also stubborn, shaking your head at him. “jj this could have been a text.” you respond briskly and his eyes dart between you and your hallway before wedging himself through your door slightly.

“yeah, no for sure uh— i was just in the area, y’know how it is and my phone died so… hold on a minute, what’s this?” he points to the small side table in your hallway and you furrow your brows, too exhausted for the conversation.

“a table.” you answer in deadpan.

“well, you’re damn right about that— but look, right here. this!” he points to the corner. “you know, soon enough our lil girl is gonna start crawlin’ and when she does things like this are gonna be a total danger to her and her squishy head. what if she falls, huh? rams right into it? did’ya consider that?” he’s being totally theatrical, nudging his foot against the low table on the ground.

“i’m sure we’ll manage, jay—”

“nope. you got tape? i’m baby proofin’ the shit outta this house.” he slides into your home, walking straight through to the living room where you hear him greet your baby. “theres my favourite little gremlin!”

you lean against the wall for a second, disorientated from lack of sleep before following him in and dropping down on the couch. “the tapes in the kitchen drawer. just watch her for a little would you? just gonna close my eyes for a second.” you hum, sinking into the couch. you feel the seat dip beside you, and a hand on your arm.

“hey, you been gettin’ any sleep?” his voice is gentler now, concerned.

“m’fine.” you rasp, half asleep already. he sighs out his nose.

“di’nt i tell you to call me if you needed me to take her? dont gotta do this all by yourself, mama.” he softly reprimands and you shrug, too sleepy to argue and he lets it go, watching you for a moment.

you wake up, in your bed at around 2AM — JJ clearly having taken over for the whole night, putting you and the baby to sleep. you shoot up, disorientated and concerned, going to sprint from your bed but accidentally stepping on the blonde sleeping on the floor beside it.

“ow, jeez woman!” he groans, sitting up.

“jay— you, where’s —”

“asleep. you’re meant to be sleepin’ too. you knocked the hell out, aaand… i didn’t wanna wake you n’stuff so…” he explains, running a hand through matted hair. you blink yourself more awake, looking around before back at him.

“why are you down there?” you exasperate and he blinks back at you.

“uh…”

“‘can sleep in here with me jj, it’s fine. you put a baby in me for gods sake you don’t have to act so repulsed.” you grumble before rolling over to face the other way, making room for him. at this, he shoots up, appearing directly behind you in bed.

“hey, woah — quite the accusation there. s’not true, alright? i was being…respectful. that’s my bad.” he holds his hands up and you unclench your muscles slightly, relaxing more into the bed.

“‘kay.” your tone softens and so does he, laying down and getting comfortable beside you, staring at the ceiling. after a moment he speaks again, quietly.

“repulsed… yeah right, dude. i’m like the freakin’ opposite. you have no clue.”

in the morning he’s not by your side, but when you pad out into the kitchen — you find your baby in her high-chair, being spoon fed by her blonde father.

“look who it is, say riiiise and shine, mama.” jj, cheerful as ever grins as he spoons more mush into the babies mouth. she babbles out spitty sounds in retaliation, equally thrilled to see you. “yeah, close enough.” he chuckles, wiping the mess on her chin.

“good morning baby!” you coo, leaning forward to kiss her soft head. “and good morning daddy.” you gently place your hand on his back as you pass him making his heart skip a beat, watching you rifle the cabinet for your mug to make some coffee.

“oo, i remember when you used t’call me that.” he smirks to himself, spooning up more baby food and you whip your head around to give him a look.

“jj! not infront of the baby.” you huff, light heartedly and he holds up a hand.

“my bad, my bad.”

his smile doesn’t fade, and when you turn you back to pick out a mug — you grow one of your own.

୨ৎ . ⸝⸝ ! 🌙 ꒱

[gintrinsic-writing]

Twilight was a no-good filthy traitor. Legend hoped a bird shit on his head, or that he had to walk with wet socks, or that all of his hair burned off during the next monster fight. It would only serve him right.

“He looks like he’s plottin’ my demise,” Twilight muttered in an aside to Hyrule.

“Because I am,” Legend bit out, only keeping his voice down so the others didn’t wake. If there was any mercy to be found, it was that Twilight hadn’t told anyone else yet. Goddess knows that would only make things worse.

Hyrule took a slow, deep breath—bracing himself, or maybe out of patience. Legend didn’t know him well enough to say, yet. For a healer, he was surprisingly prickly at times. “We’re only concerned, Legend. Let us help you.”

“And I’m telling you, there’s nothing to help.”

“Twilight said he’s seen you wearing those rings every night.” Hyrule glanced at Legend’s fingers pointedly. “We recognize them. You once mentioned they’re for healing.”

“So what?” Legend snarked.

“So quit being a stubborn bastard and tell us where you’re hurt,” Twilight grumbled, voice just shy of too loud. “You wouldn’t wear ‘em without reason. You’ve said yourself you don’t like wastin’ magic.”

“They’re passive,” Legend sighed, then held up his hands when they both scoffed and opened their mouths to argue. “Why can’t you simply trust me to handle my own shit?”

“Because you’re not on your own now,” Hyrule argued. “We’re a team, and if you’re hurting when one of us can help—”

“Good Three, are you deaf?” Legend snapped in a whisper. “I already said you can’t!”

Hyrule’s ears flattened, and he lowered his gaze. Legend instantly felt like shit.

“Prove it, then,” Twilight said. “Let him do a quick scan, and if there’s truly nothing, we’ll apologize and leave you alone.”

Legend wanted to throw something. He half-considered shoving Twilight just to have an outlet for some of his frustration, but the farm boy was built like a brick shithouse. Probably wouldn’t do Legend the courtesy of budging. “You know what? Fine. Since you’re incapable of respecting my privacy, fine.”

They both looked chastised, but not enough to stop them from taking advantage of Legend’s reluctant acquiescence. Hyrule stepped forward—and wasn’t that its own sharp discomfort, allowing someone into his space without bristling—and placed glowing hands near Legend’s head and chest. For a moment, the only sound was the crackle of the camp fire. Then Hyrule made an unhappy sound in the back of his throat.

“Your right knee…”

As if on cue, an ache shot up through Legend’s leg. “Old ACL tear.”

“It didn’t heal well.”

“No.”

Seconds passed, Hyrule chewing on his lower lip. “What about your back?”

“Nerve damage after a fall.”

Twilight winced. “How high?”

Legend bitterly recalled the unforgiving rocky slopes of Tal Tal Heights. “High,” he answered curtly.

Hyrule shifted his hands. “Your hip—was it dislocated?”

“Mhm. Lynel clipped me.”

“It’s not… Your socket must’ve been damaged as well. It’s not a great fit.”

“I’m aware.”

“And your left ankle?” Hyrule asked quietly. “A fracture?”

“I didn’t have time to set it properly. Had to chug a potion and run.” He figured it went without saying that the alternative would’ve been much worse.

Hyrule frowned. “There’s some scarring in your lungs. Does it hurt to breathe?”

A small raft, a large storm. Choking on salt water as waves crashed overhead. Waking up on Koholint, convinced he must’ve drowned— “Not enough to matter.”

“I see…” Hyrule suddenly took Legend’s left hand in both of his. He was so, so gentle. It made Legend want to hide under a rock. “Can you feel anything in your palm?”

“Besides pins and needles?” Legend shrugged. “Hardly. Burn went too deep.”

Twilight shifted uncomfortably where he stood. “Hyrule, can you heal any of this?”

Hyrule hesitated, then took a step back, letting go of Legend’s hand. “I can try but…” He shook his head sadly. “There’s so much more. So many little traumas that healed wrong, or weren’t addressed in time. Some of your joints are relying on scar tissue for support to function. The arthritis alone, it—I can’t even imagine. Oh, Legend, I’m so sor—”

“I know,” Legend hissed, feeling his face burn with embarrassment. “I fucking know, but you both insisted, and—and there’s nothing to be done, is there? Nothing to do but deal with it, like I always have.” He scoffed, fidgeting with one of his rings. “Only now, you know how broken I am. Congratulations, I guess. I’m proof of what it means to be the goddesses’ favorite.”

Twilight reached out, probably intending to offer comfort, but Legend flinched away. He wasn’t sure why he’d said that last bit. He wished he could take it back. “Just… please,” he started, too tired and ashamed to keep up his anger. “Give me some privacy, and don’t tell the others. Can you at least do that for me?”

Twilight finally looked appropriately regretful. Too bad it didn’t make Legend feel any better. “Of course, Ledge,” he murmured. “And I’m—truly, I’m sorry for pryin’.”

“It’s fine,” Legend said, which wasn’t true, but it was better than “whatever” or “you should be.” He thinks they understood anyway.

[adnauseum11]

After Action Review (John Price x Reader)

You and John talk through your argument.

2.1k words

cw: none - light angst and fluff!

Feedback welcome!

This work is part of the S.N.A.F.U. series, the Masterlist is pinned to my blog.

The slow glide of John’s fingertips over your exposed lower back is what ultimately wakes you. Your consciousness is slowly swimming back to the surface when your attention is pulled towards the sensual drag of his skin against yours. It’s almost enough to make you forget the knife’s edge of tension that currently exists between you. You barely manage to restrain yourself from stretching along his side and purring, his fingers conjuring delicious hazy memories.

Instead, your hand lands on his ribs, using him as leverage to shimmy yourself back a few inches and create some distance between your bodies. John lets his arm drop away, offering no resistance.    

“What’s happened?”

You immediately ask, invoking the sort of short hand conversations you and John routinely have, bracing yourself on an elbow to groggily look at his face. His eyes are still closed, the sweep of his dark lashes sending shadows over his cheeks in the weak early morning light. Your eyes are slowly drawn to the bandage around his forearm, the white of the gauze a contrast against his skin. The reality of the past few days lands on your shoulders, urging you to wake.

“Going to have to narrow it down for me, love.”

His deep voice is sleep roughened; his tone still vaguely dreamy, not following your meaning.

“Your arm, John.”

John cracks an eye cautiously, finding you perched on your elbow staring at him with concern.

“Just a scratch, it’ll be fine in a few days, darling.”

“And your head? Any better?”

“Still behind my eyes but not as bad.”

You take him at his word, patting his ribs reassuringly as you shift further away from him.

“Alright, I’m going to make tea. I’ll bring you one?”

You’re rolling out of bed before he answers, knowing he won’t turn one down no matter what state he’s in. He hums in agreement but otherwise doesn’t move, tracking you with his heavy-lidded eyes through the room. In fact, he still hasn’t moved when you return, carefully setting the steaming mug down on his bedside table, eyeing his now dozing form. He’s sprawled his long limbs out in the bed, the indent of your body next to him in the sheets still partially visible.

A prone John is a true anomaly, the man almost always on the move in some respect. It speaks to how poorly he’s feeling that he’s still in bed, basically laid out. You wonder if it might be better to leave him alone to recuperate while you blow on your tea, assessing him. He cracks his eyes open again and finds you staring down at him, undecided.

“I’m alright”

He’s insisting, reading your face without you saying a word.

“You’re clearly still feeling rough, John. You should rest today.”

“No, I want to sort this out, I don’t like having you upset with me.”

He’s arguing, looking up at you from the pillows, his eyes looking less bloodshot and more alert. Still, he stays put in bed, watching for your reaction.

“Don’t give me reason to be upset with you then.”

“I’m not going to apologize for wanting you safe.”

And just like that, your heart rate kicks up and you are right back in the thick of it with him like the past few days were a bad dream. A surge of adrenaline makes your fingers automatically clench around your mug.

“John! I’m upset with you making unilateral decisions! How am I supposed to keep myself safe if I don’t have all the information at hand? And just deciding to take off? I’m lucky David made the spare room up for me last minute!”

“I only want to protect you, love, I didn’t think upsetting you with details was the right thing to do with so much going on.”

“Yes! Of course I want details! Jesus John – I don’t know. I don’t know if I can do this.”

That has his attention and he finally pushes himself into a sitting position with a grunt and a badly hidden grimace, pushing his fingers through his sleep rumpled hair slowly. You can feel a ball in the pit of your stomach and shift from foot to foot, feeling unsettled.  

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…it was one thing to be your friend when you were off doing this dangerous stuff but now – maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m not cut out for it. I don’t think I managed a full breath until I saw you yesterday, I was so worried. And I deserve to be a partner, not just someone to be managed.”

You have to pause to take a sip of your tea before your shaking hands spill the hot liquid, your emotions hammering through you. John pounces on the interruption, his face is drawn and serious.

“I’m not taking more contracts. This was a one-time thing, darling. The break-in, the mission, it’s over now. I’m done. Properly retired.”

You look at him, unconvinced and he scratches his jaw, his lips pressed together in a thin line before he continues.

“But you’re right. I’m used to making decisions for people and being in control of situations- “

You can’t stop the sarcastic laugh that bubbles out at that understatement. He pauses and then carries on, clearing his throat.

“I’m still adjusting to civilian life, darling. Patience.”

“John, you thinking you’re in charge of everything is nothing new. Get real. I just thought you would consider me before you made a decision like taking off for a mission with a few hours’ notice. I’m not worth the time it takes to have a conversation? You made me feel like an afterthought, what I wanted didn’t even matter to you.”

“Of course it matters to me what you want. Darling, you’re all I think about. When I got home and you weren’t here-”

“Doesn’t feel good, does it? To not be considered? Why should I tell you my plans when you don’t include me in yours?”

You can’t temper the petulant tone that bleeds through your voice even though you hate how it makes you sound like a whiny teenager. John groans, rubbing his palms over his face and the motion reminds you that despite holding his own he’s still not recovered. You sigh and take a step away from the bed, shaking your head in annoyance. You can feel your heart pounding against your breastbone, the effort of trying to make John understand your point of view making your entire body thrum in agitation. If you could pace without spilling your tea, you would.   

“Just…get some rest, John. Let’s try to figure this out later- “

This raises his alarm, and he leans forward, his eyebrows raised and face earnest. Suggesting more space to John seems to be akin to suggesting he cut his own hand off and he reacts strongly.

“No! No, you’re right. I should have looped you in on what was happening even if I thought it would upset you. I should have talked to you when I got the call about the mission. I thought I was doing the right thing by shielding you, but waiting for you to get back and not knowing what was going on…I’m not a fan of the shoe being on the other foot. Message received.”

John’s tone is pained, his hand reaching out for yours instinctively. You pause, considering for a moment. The stricken expression on his face is pulling on your heart strings, making your resolve bend. He’s genuinely contrite, your ill-fated last-minute jaunt to your brother’s home seemingly killing two birds with one stone after all. He takes another breath and pushes on, his voice softening and dropping into his lower register.

“I’m sorry darling. I should have been honest with you, and included you in the conversation. I thought I was protecting you. I’d do anything for you, love, you have to know that. It’s always about you. Please. Stay.”   

His hand slowly wraps around your free hand, the warmth of his touch radiating up your wrist. You let him; your barely touched tea cradled in your other hand. Your eyes find his and you lock gazes, the hesitancy in you melting slowly under his steady scrutiny. You let him reel you in, setting your mug down on the bedside table before he drags you over his lap and back in to bed. A muffled squeak forces itself out of your lungs as John twists over you, pressing you down into the pile of pillows and curling around you as if he’s afraid you’re going to make a break for it.

“John, you muppet, go easy.”

You’re gripping his bicep, your hair tousled and John’s half lidded eyes on your face. He ignores you and his chest rumbles against you as he speaks, brushing your hair back from your face gently with his fingers.

“I don’t scare easy love, but I nearly lost it when I got home and couldn’t find you.”

John’s words come more easily when he’s got his hands on you. You idly think how you’re the opposite, needing space to corral your thoughts. You can’t summon the heart to separate yourself from him at the moment though and try to stay focused.

“I was hurt John, I just wanted to get out of here as fast as possible. I haven’t been that upset with you in god knows how long. I thought you trusted me.”

“I do darling. I love you. I only ever want what’s best for you. You have to believe that.”

“I really don’t like how you went about it.”

“I know, it was poorly done, love. I’m going to do better if you’ll let me.”

You hum in agreement, finally giving in and stroking your palm over his wiry beard, smoothing the stray hairs back into place. John’s eyes drift closed again at your light touch. It feels fragile, the truce between you, like the slightest jostle will upend it. You need reassurance that he meant what he said earlier.

“No more contracts?”

“None. You’ll tell me when you go somewhere next?”

“Yes, but I think I’d prefer it if you come with me. It was hard being there with David’s family. I mean, they’re lovely and it was good to see them but... they were so happy together and I missed you so much. I was so worried John. I love you too.”

The tears come almost immediately, choking off your throat. John’s palm cradles the back of your head as you tuck your face into his shoulder, wiping your cheeks on his shirt. You force the rest of the thought out, your voice unsteady.

“I hate that we fought before you left, if anything happened to you, I couldn’t live with myself - “

“Shh, it’s alright. That part of my life is over now, love. We don’t need to worry about that, yeah?”

The slow stroke of his thumb over the base of your skull is soothing and you jerkily nod, dislodging the tears on your bottom lashes. John kisses your forehead, his bristly whiskers tickling your delicate skin.

“I’m sorry I derailed Christmas, darling. But I’m glad if you went anywhere, you went to see David. What did he say about you moving in?”

“I didn’t tell him; I didn’t want to get in to it.”

You admit, your voice wobbling slightly, the unspoken ‘on my own’ hanging over the end of your sentence. You busy yourself twisting your fingers in the sleeve of John’s shirt, his big palm stroking your side, following your curves. John waits a beat before he speaks.

“Are we going to be alright, love?”

“I-I think so, you’re going to talk to me, yeah? I want to be involved in decisions.”

John hums in agreement, his palm resting on your hip as he kisses your forehead again. You release his sleeve from your grip and press your palm against his chest, tilting your head back so you can see his face.

“Are you alright?”

“Just stay with me for a little while?”

“Of course.”

You stroke his beard again, leaning in to press a kiss against his lips. One easily turns into two, and your hand retraces its path into his hair. You can feel John droop against you, the tension bleeding out of his body as you massage his scalp again. The two of you share air for a few moments, foreheads pressed together, cocooned in the pillows. You give one last peck to his lips before cradling his head to your chest and stroking his hair slowly. John is seemingly content to let you pet him, nestled against the soft curves of your body. Eventually, you can tell when sleep starts to tug him under again, his breathing slowing and evening out. You stay curled around each other until late in the morning, when your stomach starts to cramp from hunger, forcing you to gingerly extract yourself and scavenge in the kitchen while John dozes on.

Next Chapter

Ao3

Taglist: @deadbranch @beebeechaos @cadotoast @syoddeye @writeforfandoms @itr-00 @chloepluto1306 @batw3nch @magsmagic @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @chickennn-soupp @fruitymoonbeams-blog @redwites @glitterypirateduck @tf141gloryhole

[apomaro-mellow]

King and Prince 30

Part 29

Steve wasted no time appearing in town to challenge Jason. Eddie accompanied him, keeping a low profile as the horse he rode on again. Steve dismounted when they got to the butcher’s shop and Jason came out immediately as if summoned. He probably just saw them through the window the moment they arrived.

“Well look who decided to grace us low folk with his presence.” Jason’s apron was bloody and he was wiping it off his hands also.

Steve’s expression was stony. “Did I ever make you feel low? Even when we were alone?”, he asked.

“I always knew there was something off about you. That alone was enough.” Jason tossed the red stained cloth over his shoulder. “Why are you here?”

“I want you to rescind your blasphemous lies. I am no longer an agent of my homeland. I didn’t come here intending to invade this kingdom.”

People began to gather, first because of the brilliantly black horse, so rich and fine, then because of Steve who was equally fine. Folks began to murmur, speculating that this was the man who had their king so enamored. Jason was good at both gauging a crowd and turning them to his favor. And he saw opportunity.

“What happens if I refuse? I haven’t been shown any proof to the contrary.” Then he projected his voice. “Will you smite me? Or will His Majesty? If I’m wrong, reveal it to be evident. But if I am simply silenced, everyone here will know your true face.”

Steve’s frown deepened. “Will you not seek a more honorable path?”

“And what, pray tell, is the more honorable path?”, Jason questioned as his parents stepped out, curious about the wealthy looking man on their porch.

“I challenge you, Jason Carver, to a duel”, Steve said.

Jason smirked. Something about it reminded Steve of a predator. But he stood strong. The best man would win and that was him. Jason held out his hand, smears of blood still on it.

“I accept.”

Steve held his own hand out and shook it. But then Jason didn’t let go on the downswing as the crowd’s whispers began to rise. Steve tried to pull his hand back but Jason held firm. He took too many steps forward until he was in Steve’s space. 

“You’re going to regret this.” He was grinning still until the horse whinnied and pushed his head threateningly between Steve and Jason, causing Jason to rear back.

“Easy, easy, I’m fine”, Steve soothed, petting the horse’s snout. He continued to shush them as he got on its back. “A messenger will be forthcoming with the details.”

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

The duel was set for a week’s time and in the following days, Eddie unfortunately saw Steve less and less. It wasn’t for lack of trying too. When he heard that Steve was taking on knights in the training room, he had come right over, gift in hand. They were gloves for his lovely hands so that he would never need to touch the likes of Carver ever again.

But before he could even enter, Dustin barred him, hand in his face.

“You can’t come in”, Dustin said.

“And why on this green, verdant earth, not?” He wasn’t in the mood for whatever Henderson was playing at.

“Steve told us he can’t be distracted while he trains.”

“I wouldn’t be a distraction”, Eddie argued.

“He specifically said, ‘if Eddie comes, don’t let him in’”, Dustin echoed.

“Mhm, but since when do you listen to whatever people tell you to do?”, Eddie challenged.

“Steve promised to show me a disemboweling move if I did”, Dustin said. “You got something to top that?”

Eddie highly doubted Steve was going to follow through with that promise, so he wasn’t going to one-up him just to satisfy Dustin. If Steve wanted to focus on the duel, he would respect that. The door opened and Lucas stuck his head out, allowing Eddie to hear the ruckus going on just beyond it.

“Dustin! Get back here! It’s so epic!”

There were cheers at least a dozen strong that supported Lucas’ claim and Dustin rushed to get back in and shut the door behind him, leaving Eddie all alone. He sighed, forlorn, before picking himself up. If Steve was throwing himself into this, so would he. It had been some time since he had to make a show of power to his people.

Eddie coordinated the dueling venue, erecting an arena in a dusty, flat area. During fall and winter, it was a congregation for demobeasts as it got cold and hard. During the warmer parts of the year though, it was either empty or frequented by youngsters playing their own games. By the week’s end, there was a view box for the king and his entourage, benches for the other spectators, and a ring in which the fighters would battle.

It wasn’t just people from the town immediately outside the castle that came. Word traveled fast and people from neighboring cities came as well. When dawn arrived of the duel, Eddie wondered if there would be proper accommodations. In the form of a raven, he flew over the duel grounds and saw that while the morning mist was still evaporating, people were already gathering to claim their spots.

That all suited him just fine, he decided. He would be announcing his courtship officially and the more ears the better. 

The sun rose higher and the time was nearly here. Eddie had behaved and not distracted him at all, but he couldn’t resist coming into his tent as he prepared.

“Did you-did you cut your hair?”, Eddie nearly squeaked as an attendant tied leather to Steve’s shin.

“I do that sometimes for the summer”, Steve said, sitting on a stool. It wasn’t much of a change to be honest but it still drove home how Eddie hadn’t seen Steve in days. Just a couple inches off his hair felt like an immeasurable distance.

“You look as dashing as ever”, Eddie said easily, taking steps forward then realized they weren’t alone. “You may take your leave”, he ordered.

The attendant left, closing the tent behind themselves. There was a crowd ebbing and flowing outside but they were in their own little world now. Not a servant or chaperone to be spoke of. Eddie knelt down before Steve and finished the job, tying up his other leg. Steve was suddenly very conscious of his own breathing, of the way Eddie’s eyes focused on the task before him, of the tip of his nose, of the way his hands lingered. 

In order to tie down the protective layer, he had to touch his calf, the back of his knee, his ankle. His clothing stood between skin to skin contact, but that didn’t stop the touch from warming him. It was the reverent way Eddie did it. It was having a king on his knees. It was Eddie adding something to protect him.

“In case you were wondering, this is why I couldn’t have you watch me train”, Steve said, his voice just ever so slightly breathless.

Just to be cheeky, Eddie kissed his clothed knee. “I heard you put on quite the performance.”

Steve moved to stand and Eddie helped him to his feet. Their only point of contact was their hands and yet it felt like so much. Not for the first time, Steve was trying to remember why he wasn’t allowed to kiss Eddie right now. He wanted to. Eddie wanted to. And Eddie seemed to have the same realization as his eyes met Steve’s. He brought the prince’s hand towards him to kiss the tips of his fingers, then the palm of his hand.

Eddie’s lips ghosted over the inside of his wrist when a blast of fanfare broke the illusion of privacy. But there was a moment still, where they both considered stealing just one more second to act on their desires. But then Eddie pulled away.

“Our public awaits”, he said, starting towards the tent’s opening.

Steve walked out with him, but they had to part ways so that Steve could enter the arena and that Eddie could go to his viewing box and announce the start of the duel, as well as lay out the terms to all in attendance. 

“Enjoy the show”, Steve said with a wink.

Part 31

Taglist CLOSED

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent  @snakeorsquid  @ignoremyworld  @theclichefortunecookie 

@goodolefashionedloverboi  @just-a-tiny-void  @0body0disphoria0  @cinnamon-mushroomabomination  @samsoble 

@jamieweasley13  @y4r3luv  @xtkxkrzrizir  @un-knownperson  @greekgeek24 

@justdrugsformethanks  @potato-of-the-lord  @notaqueenakhaleesi  @swimmingbirdrunningrock  @queenie-ofthe-void 

@nebulainajar  @lil-gremlin-things  @nicememerino  @robininblue  @hornedqueenofhell 

@anne-bennett-cosplayer  @moomkin77  @here4thetrama  @bookworm0690  @autumncrocusandladybug

@lil-gremlin-things @littlebluejane @puppy-steve

[cosyvelvetorchid]

Flu (Tommy being sick and Buck being his little nurse)

Please enjoy a little flu fluff 😊

*****

Tommy looked like shit. Buck didn’t tell him that, of course, but he thought it. His skin was clammy and sallow, bags under his eyes big enough that an airline would charge him extra to take on board, and glassy, red-rimmed eyes.

“I’m fine Evan.” He said when Buck asked him for the third time if he was alright. Buck wasn’t at all buying it.

“You’ve barely eaten anything on your plate.”

“I’m just not that hungry.” He replied.

“You sure?” Buck asked again causing Tommy to huff.

“Yes, Evan I’m-“ His eyes widened and his hand slapped his mouth. A guttural heave came from his throat as he stood up and immediately bent over the sink to empty his stomach of what looked like, by the volume of it alone, everything he’d ever eaten. Ever.

Buck ran to him immediately to rub his back, comforting him through it. Tommy tried to wave him away with his hand but Buck was having none of it. He continued to rub Tommy’s back until he was done.

Tommy stood upright , looking worse than before, and grunted. He had begun shaking and Buck was done respecting his insistence that he was fine.

“Tommy, you are clearly sick.“

“M’fine” he protested as he held on to the sink for dear life.

“No, babe, you’re not.” Buck argued. Tommy opened his mouth to protest but Buck got in there first. “Listen, I know that you’ve spent so long in your life having to take care of yourself, probably from far too young of an age than you should have had to. So I get that letting someone take care of you is difficult. But Tommy, taking care of you isn’t a chore for me. You’re not a burden, okay. I want to take care of you. So, if you can’t let me for your sake, then please let me for my sake. Because it would make me feel a whole lot better, and worry me a whole lot less.”

Tommy turned to look at Buck, his eyelids feeling heavier by the second. He reached out and cupped Buck’s shoulder.

“I’m sick.” He admitted in a meek tone that made Bucks heart hurt.

“I know, baby. C’mon, let’s get you upstairs to bed.” He slid an arm around Tommys waist as he threw his around Bucks shoulder. Slowly they made it up the stairs and Buck gently deposited him on the side of the bed.

He bent down and removed Tommys shoes and socks, then reached up and unbuttoned his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders and throwing across the room into the hamper. Tommy shivered and held onto himself.

“We’re almost done, baby, then we’ll get you warmed up. Can you stand?” Tommy reached out and held onto Bucks shoulders for leverage and slowly stood up. Buck unbuckled and pulled down his jeans then gestured for him to sit back down before removing them from his lower legs.

He pulled out a pair of sweats and a T-shirt and helped him into them, then pulled back the covers to let Tommy get in. He laid back onto the pillows and pulled the covers tightly too his chest in an effort to warm up.

“Where are you going?” He asked Buck as he walked to the door.

“I’ll be back in a second, I promise.”

He returned to the bedroom a few minutes later with supplies.

“Okay. We have water, asprin, electrolytes, and a bucket in case you need to be sick, so you don’t have to worry about making it to the bathroom.”

“But the sink.. I should have cleaned it.”

“Don’t worry about that, babe. I got it. I got you, okay? Just rest.”

“Will you stay with me for a little bit?” Tommy asked, his voice getting weaker but the minute.

“Of course I will.” He lifted up the covers on the other side of the bed and slid inside. He lifted his arm to allow Tommy to snuggle into him with his head resting on Bucks chest. Buck kissed the top of his head and traced lines up and down Tommy’s back with his fingertips.

“Evan?”

“Yeah?”

“I know it’s probably the least romantic setting to say it for the first time, but.. I love you. Thank you for taking care of me.”

Every corner of Buck’s body filled with warmth at hearing those words. Those 3 words had been on the tip of his own tongue for the last month, but he’d been scared to say it. He’d rushed into every other relationship he’d ever had and he didn’t want to do that with Tommy. So he decided to wait before saying anything; give himself time to feel it and allow what they had to develop.

But hearing those words from Tommy’s lips made him feel like he could just float away in a breeze.

He squeezed Tommy a little tighter and planted another kiss on the top of his head.

“I love you, too.” Buck spoke quietly into his hair. “Thank you for letting me.”

[outro-jo]

seventeen and who’s taking the couch

pairing: seventeen members x reader (gender neutral)

type: scenario 

summary: how the seventeen members deal with arguments and who’s taking the couch when things get too heated

warnings: mentions of arguing 

masterlist | info

—————————

scoups- he’s taking the couch. he doesn’t want you to wake up sore so he relents. you make it up to him by making him breakfast though and giving him a massage

jeonghan- simply does not let you but he’s not taking the couch either. he knows how you are anyways. you stay up the whole night, tossing and turning going through every detail of the argument until you can come to a conclusion. but he also can’t sleep without you so he has you sleep with him and vent while he dozes in and out of consciousness

joshua- mr. gentle sexy is not letting you take the couch. period. he actually doesn’t mind the couch and he’s more than willing to give you your space if you need it to sort things out in your mind. if you decide to make up before the sun comes up, he leaves that up to you and he’s very willing to make up. however, if you don’t, he’ll rest through the night and be happy to continue the conversation the next day when you’ve had more time to reflect on everything.

jun- kinda hurt when you say you’re taking the couch. even in the heat of the argument, when the words leave your lips, he pauses for a second. he hoped that the two of you could have some sort of resolve by now or at least be ok enough so that you could still sleep next to each other. he’s upset with himself that he let things get this far. he’s ultimately the one who takes the couch bc he still cares for you.

hoshi- doesn’t get to the point where you take the couch. well, it does but as soon as you say you’re sleeping on the couch you expect a “good!” “good!” “fine!” “fine!” sort of thing but he immediately snaps out of it. “wait… you don’t wanna sleep with me?” with big ol’ eyes and a pout. he start apologizing for getting you upset and asking if you guys can have the night to rest and think things over but he doesn’t wanna sleep without cuddles. the reaction softens you as well and you agree.

wonwoo- doesn’t say much but he takes the couch. he knows you need your space and respects that. the first to apologize in the morning and wants to hear you out bc he spent all night replaying what you said.

woozi- takes the couch… in his studio. he stormed out during the fight bc he needed to clear his head so he left. i can see him being real stubborn so it takes a day for him to work though things (if he doesn’t just start working) and one of the boys for them to help talk things out. he comes home with flowers and an embarrassed, mumbled apology ready to hear what you have to say now.

dk- another one that won’t let you take the couch not matter how upset he is. as soon as you say it, he’s shooting it down and telling you to go rest in your bed. he can’t sleep at all though. you wake up the next morning to a pair of dark circles and a sincere apology.

mingyu- he gets pretty heated too and knows how stubborn you are so he lets you. he starts feeling bad in the big empty bed so when he goes to check on you and finds you asleep, he carries you back to bed with him. you find yourself in his arms the next morning with soft apologies whispered between kisses.

the8- he convinces you to share the bed with him. he thinks that this argument isn’t worth you two being so mad and stubborn that you can’t rest comfortably. he agrees that you two should stay on your respective sides of the bed staring at opposite walls. he really knows that either one or both of you will end up rolling over and apologizing before the sun even rises.

seungkwan- 1000% let’s you. “I’M SLEEPING ON THE COUCH!” “GOOD! FINE WITH ME! GOODNIGHT!” and slams the door behind him. but at around two am he starts feeling bad and comes out of the bedroom. “jagiya~~?” you two end up talking it through for the rest of the night.

vernon- will not let it get that far. he very rarely gets heated in arguments especially when it comes to you but he respects your feelings and let you yell as much as you want. he sits calmly and takes in what you have to say before responding. he’ll also call you out when you get too emotional and start turning on him. he lets you get it all out and when you’ve exhausted yourself, he’ll hold out his arms to take you to bed

dino- doesn’t let you unless you’re SO stubborn about it. if you take the couch, he comes out there when you’re sleeping and sleeps on the floor next to you to be near you. if he ends up talking you into letting him take the couch, you end up coming out there to cuddle and make up. you both end up on the couch together.