#smut or fluff here i come

[meleeallday]

Do you seeeeeee how many tabs I have open. If its Bagginshield my eyes are open.

[yuwuta]

I HAD TO HAVE THIS TALK WITH YOU, CAUSE I’D HATE TO HAVE TO ACT A FOOL — MEGUMI FUHSIGURO

cw this exists in the same rich kids/boarding school au as this piece, which are slowly forming their own universe, implied (past) drug use/underage drinking, more of megumi being your guard dog everybody cheer

Megumi scowls as yet another phone call goes to voicemail. He’s been standing outside the racetrack for fifteen minutes, watching Yuuji absolutely pummel Aoi in polo, and waiting for you. He huffs, just as Yuuji loudly celebrates another point, thumbing a text to Yuuta, asking if he’s seen you all morning. Yuuji claimed you’d left him all by himself after your shared morning class, Nobara was still in Switzerland, and Tsumiki also seemed to be ignoring his messages. 

He needed answers, and quickly, because this is the free period that Muta and his goons also have free, and he would hate to go back on his promise to stop egging him so soon after you’d asked him so sweetly to knock it off. 

Yuuta (received 12:57pm) — She’s fine, Tsumiki and I are with her. Picnic tables outside of the building 703. — Warning, your least favorite upperclassmen are here too, but don’t make a scene. They’re annoying, but not trouble yet. 

Megumi squints, turning on his heels towards the large building opposite the racetracks. As he rounds the side that opens into a field, formally known as one the many lawns dedicated in the Gojo family’s name, and informally revered as your favorite lunchtime spot, he hears the familiar sound of Tsumiki’s laughter, and the unpleasant squawking of his least favorite upperclassmen. 

Seeing you, Yuuta, and Tsumiki sitting at the picnic bench under the blooming wisteria was business as usual; seeing Hakari and another senior infiltrating the seating arrangement was not. Megumi frowns, strolling up to the table to halt the conversation when he’s noticed by you, and sized up by the upperclassman. 

“Oh, uh—hey, I—good afternoon, Fushiguro!” the other senior has the decency to greet him, stumbling with their overly-chipper tone. Megumi eyes them and blinks. Their face is a familiar shadow to Hakari’s, but he never could recall their name, no matter how many times he had the displeasure of running into the duo.  

“It was,” Megumi drawls. He turns his head to face you again, “You’re late.” 

From this angle, you have to tilt your head up to make eye contact with him. There’s an innocence behind your eyes, genuine warning, weary concern; and still, so beautiful it makes Megumi’s thoughts venture elsewhere—only for a moment; he supposes he should be grateful for Hakari’s presence, just this once, because the interjection of his grating voice pulls Megumi back to reality. 

“Relax, Fushiguro, we were all just talking, having a good time,” Hakari whistles, a dirty grin on his lips, “Ain’t that right, Kirara?” 

Ah, Kirara. That’s their name. Megumi doesn’t have time to mull it over, or pretend to commit it to memory; the majority of his energy is focused on preventing himself from throwing a punch. Briefly, he makes eye-contact with Tsumiki, a silent warning in her eyes to not be violent; so Megumi looks to the other side of the table at Yuuta, whose hollow eyes are apologetic, but cautious. Megumi can tell they’ve both been doing their best to neutralize the conversation before he arrived, without setting off your own alarm bells. 

They’ve been patient, but he won’t be: “Get lost, Hakari.” 

“Whoah, no need to rush things. Come on, I didn’t even get a chance to invite you to our party yet,” Hakari’s grin widens, “I just figured I’d get your owner on board before I pet the puppy, yeah?” 

Tsumiki and Yuuta share a look. Megumi bares teeth to growl, rests his palms on the picnic table and leans over to deliver his message again, “Get lost.” 

“Kin, don’t be so rude!” Megumi can hear Kirara’s teeth chattering beside him, a chittering voice attempting to cut through the tension, “What—what he means is that you’re all invited, really!” 

Megumi turns his head, not to acknowledge Kirara or to back down to Hakari, but to look at you. He knows that you know that there are three options to how this ends, and given that he’s already got a strike in your book for bullying Kokichi, and that Yuuta’s route would cause significantly more drama than his, he’s hoping you’ll settle this yourself. 

He tilts his head just enough, raised eyebrows in warning and wait; and then, you give a conceding blink, a small sigh, part your lips to speak, still looking at Megumi when you say: “Hakari, Kirara, you two should grab lunch. They’re going to stop serving the hot food soon.” 

A command hidden as a suggestion. It makes the upperclassmen scowl, but still Hakari motions across the table to Kirara, and they both gather their belongings. “Whatever,” he scoffs, “You know where to find us when you want to have some real fun.” 

Hakari flashes you a wink over his shoulder before he and Kirara make their way around the building and towards the main dining hall. When they’re out of earshot, you smile, look away from Megumi, and back down to your lunch, grabbing the single, wrapped daifuku and tearing open the packaging, before looking back up to him with a smile, “Well, have a seat, Megumi. Join us.” 

Megumi scoffs, standing up straight again, “You’re supposed to be in a meeting with Gojo right now.” 

“I already had Yuuta do my bidding this morning, because he was so sweet to wake up before noon,” you reply, taking the desert out of the plastic, flashing Yuuta a brief smile before looking up to him again, “So I told him lunch was on me, and we ran into Tsumiki on our way. It’s so nice out, isn’t it? Come on, sit with us, enjoy the weather. Yuuta was telling us about the new coup he bought.”

Tsumiki chimes in about her lunch, looking over at Yuuta’s half-eaten tray and wishing she’d got beef instead of chicken. He offers her what’s left of his plate, and she politely declines, before Yuuta insists, pushing his food across the table to her, and you pitch in, putting the remainder of your sauce next to her. The three of you seem to easily pick up where your conversation was presumably before Hakari and Kirara crashed your lunch. 

Megumi’s scowl deepens. He knows that you know that he wants to know why Hakari and Kirara were here in the first place, he knows that you know that their party invitation was just a scheme to get you into trouble and get a rise out of him, he knows that you know he’s going to kick their asses six ways to Sunday unless you tell him not you. 

“Megumi,” you cut through his thoughts, words noticeably heavier, “Sit.” 

He rolls his tongue in his cheek, and you squint a bit, tilting your head to motion to the empty space beside you on the bench. You only spare him a sharp glance, before giving your attention back to Tsumiki, clapping happily as she shows you something she bought on her phone. 

With a huff, Megumi rounds the table, sets his bag down on the soft grass and swings his legs over the bench and next to you. Tsumiki turns her phone to Yuuta, and your attention is back to Megumi, breaking your daifuku in half and offering a piece to him. He puts an elbow on the table, leans his cheek into his palm, a defiant expression on his face you pay no mind to—you scrunch your nose with a deceptive smile, bringing the mochi to his lips, and opening your mouth mockingly for him to follow. He blinks at you, slowly; once, twice, a third time before his head dips every so slightly, mouth a jar, letting you place the dessert between his teeth. Only after he has it in his mouth do you begin to eat your half, sparing a hand to raise your arm and pat the top of his head, “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

Megumi tilts his head further into his palm. “You didn’t answer my calls.” 

“When you called, I was eating lunch. It’s rude to take calls when you have company,” you defend yourself. 

“Yuuta answered my texts.”

“Yuuta is scared of you,” you chirp, “And unlike you, he cares to not have write-ups on his transcript. He keeps his physical encounters off-campus.” 

“I am not scared of Megumi,” Yuuta scoffs, leaning over to poke at your forehead, “I’m scared of Tsumiki. And I did not want to be scolded for getting blood on her new Chanel skirt.” 

Between the two of them, Yuuta was certainly the more reformed one; it only took one incident of Tsumiki pulling at his ear and scolding him about using his words instead of his fists for him to actually listen to her. Megumi couldn’t blame him, Tsumiki was hellish when she was truly angry, and he feared Tsumiki as much as the next person, but he also knew how she had a soft spot for her younger brother; a mercy that Yuuta, Yuuji, and Nobara were not privy to when their violent streaks got the best of them. 

Besides, when Tsumiki couldn’t get to him, you were there to tug on his leash and reign him in. 

“Wimp,” Tsumiki coughs, “And simp,” she taunts her brother, “We ought to pick new bodyguards in our next life.”

You laugh softly at her teasing, but still, you rest your elbow on the table to mirror Megumi’s position, “You’re right. I call dibs on Yuuji.” 

Your joke makes the others laugh, and Megumi rolls his eyes as you all chuckle. Still, he shifts to lean his head against your shoulder, sly as he knocks his head against your neck and reminds you of a simple fact: “That’s too bad. You’re stuck with me, in this life and the next.”

[fastboatsmojito]

🕸️𖤐 Promptober Day Twenty-five - Praise 𖤐🕸️

| a/n; soft luca my dearest <3

Promptober schedule here !

| cw; 18+ smut btc, smut if u squint but it’s not very detailed, afab gn reader <3

| wc; 303

“That’s incredible, Luca.” The slight blush on his cheeks told you everything you already knew, savoring the pumpkin cheesecake on your spoon that really was compliment worthy.

“Yeah? Changed the recipe up a bit.”

“It’s perfect.” You praised, content with the sweet smile on his face in response.

That certainly wasn’t the first time you’d noticed the nervousness that would follow any compliments you threw at him, but it was the first time it sparked an idea.

☾⋆⁺₊⋆

He couldn’t get enough of how it sounded; the smooth, soft breath of his name from your mouth, and how could you do anything else? His warm breath fanning against the skin of your thighs as his hands lay firm on your hips.

He felt like himself here, better even, coaxing out the sweetest praises from your mouth — and just as he’d grown bashful at your compliments aimed at his craftsmanship earlier, he basks in it.

You inspire him to be better, improve new recipes he’d forgotten about because he found the faintest note of it in your perfume, bring home something new he’d been trying out just because you saw a picture of it on Pinterest because you deserve it.

The soft reassurance that he was good, that he made something that invoked enough positive emotion that you could only look up at him and smile before saying anything at all, it was all so captivating.

He couldn’t explain it if he tried, but he didn’t have to. You were happy to tell him how great it was and it never felt forced or exaggerated because it wasn’t.

Whether his hands were dutifully between your thighs, adamant on drawing out soft moans of his name or simply rolling out a pie dough you’d been dreaming about, he was always happy to help.

[sarahscribbles]

Aemond Targaryen Masterlist

✧ Concentrate (18+)

Summary: Aemond makes learning High Valyrian a little more...interesting

✧ If Looks Could Kill (18+)

Summary: At a feast to discuss the succession of Driftmark you give Corly's nephew a little too much attention. Aemond is not pleased.

[wednesdaynn]

weird james potter (inspired by elliot stabler) thought... but massaging him after a long, hard, quidditch practise. i just need to feel this mans muscles underneath my hands and rub oils and lotions all over his shoulder blades and back. rubbing out the tight muscles and hearing him groan and moan. idk... thought

[osamusriceballs]

The Accident Part VIII

Atsumu x fem reader

Warnings: None

Words: ~ 2k

About: You finally meet your good friend &lt;3

Part I II -> Next part

"You know each other?!"

You stare at Atsumu with wide eyes, who just stares at the short blonde next to you and raises his eyebrows as if he just had an epiphany.

"Where have I—wait. Karasuno. Karasuno's manager! You're a friend of Shoyo-kun!" Atsumu's eyes shine when he talks about Karasuno, and you furrow your brows when you remember that it's the name of Yachi's old school. "Shoyo-kun? Like—Hinata Shoyo?" You ask, recalling a bright orange-haired man you've met a few times already when Yachi had invited you to drink with her and her friends. They had always been a lively bunch, definitely growing on you the more often you saw them.

"Hmm, we work together," Atsumu nods, and you blankly stare at him while you try to digest that piece of information. You know that Hinata is a professional volleyball player. Very professional. Olympics level professional. He offered you cards to his games quite a few times, and you had politely declined, not wanting to cause him trouble, but he had sent you tickets anyway for a game in a few weeks.

That probably means that Atsumu is a professional player too—or he might be some kind of manager, according to the vague statement that they are working together. His physique and his posture tell you that he potentially could be an athlete- you would believe that in a second.

"Working together like... playing volleyball too?" You ask for clarification, tilting your head curiously while you watch his reaction. His lips curl into a smug smile, and the confidence he's radiating now makes your legs turn into jelly.

"Yeah. I'm a professional, just like Shoyo-kun. He loves my sets, by the way. Always aces them with no problem."

His eyes capture yours and you hang on his every word, definitely surprised by the development. You're married to a probably very famous professional Olympia volleyball player. You're not even sure what to think about this; the new details just made the whole situation more absurd and unrealistic. The only good thing is that Yachi apparently knows him. You could maybe get more information out of Yachi about him later.

"I—wait. The marriage—you married ATSUMU MIYA?" Your attention shifts to Yachi, who turns almost worryingly red, and you quickly step closer to her and reach for her arm, trying to calm her down. "Yes, but it's okay. He's a good guy, okay?" You smile encouragingly, and Yachi takes a few hasty loud breaths before she nods.

Atsumu watches you both and awkwardly clears his throat, a faint blush covering his cheeks at your words, and rubs the back of his head. "I'll leave ya two alone then. I'll call ya, y/n."

The last thing you see is his smile before he turns around and walks away with his hands in his pockets now. His broad back is evident, especially when he's wearing the white dress shirt, and you can't help but admire the man for a second before Yachi enters your sight once again.

"Y/n! - what happened?!"

xxx

"I can't believe you're married to Atsumu Miya!" she exclaims, still sounding shocked as she repeats the same sentence for the third time after you managed to tell her the fully story during the car ride. Both of you sit on her comfortable plush couch, adorned with a few of her stylish designer blankets. You're glad to be in a familiar place finally, but you can't help but to think about Atsumu. Will he call or leave a message soon? You wouldn't mind him calling today already- just to make sure you have his number. Nothing else. Just to clear that whole marriage thing. And nothing else.

You nod with a mild smile an attempt to calm her slight panic. Atsumu has assured you that everything will be taken care of, and you find yourself actually trusting him. "It'll be okay. You mentioned he's a good guy, right? I mean, he's friends with Hinata."

Yachi deeply inhales and takes a sip of her tea and nods. "He's close to Hinata. They get along really well. But let me tell you, Atsumu Miya in high school is something else. His serves were powerful and terrifying- not as much as today, but still enough to keep us all on the edge. Even Nishinoya had a hard time receiving them. Atsumu-san and Osamu-san managed to copy Hinata's and Kageyama's special attack effortlessly. It was insane. Maybe we can find a recording of it."

She grabs the remote to turn on the TV, and you lean forward eagerly at the thought of seeing more of Atsumu. "I wonder what Atsumu looked like in high school," you muse, taking a sip of your tea, its slight bitterness complementing the rich flavor. "He basically still looks the same. His hair got a bit brighter, and I think he grew a bit. And gained mass," Yachi responds, finding what she's looking for with an excited squeal. "Here!"

You both watch how a much younger Atsumu raises his arm and much to your surprise the whole crowd falls silent. "What- that's not normal, is it?" You turn to Yachi who seems slightly pale, probably because she remembers the moment vividly. "That's normal for Atsumu Miya. He was so good and popular that he got that special treatment. It helps him to focus. Oh, and watch his steps! You can tell what kind of serve he's going to make by the number of his steps."

You diligently nod and watch him serve again, taking six steps this time. The camera angle is a tad bit closer this time, and you don't fail to see his yellow-ish hair that definitely looks different compared to his looks today. He was very fit, even back then, but he is definitely more buff today.

You watch some more of Atsumu's powerful serves, his form screaming utmost perfection, and memories of the very same strong, muscular arms wrapped around you make heat rush to your cheeks. Yachi continues to share insights about his playing style, and you quickly try to focus on her words.

"...their combined attacks are difficult to anticipate. But look at how Kei blocks it!" You nod enthusiastically while you observe Tsukishima's impressive block. The video then shifts to another game, showcasing Atsumu in a black uniform adorned with yellow claw prints on his sleeves.

"Oh, that's from the MSBY game! You should have seen him; there's this amazing set—" Yachi's words trail off as the camera cuts to an unusual angle, revealing Atsumu's impressive thighs in full glory as he sets the ball with a ridiculously seductive smile. Your jaw drops at the unexpected sight- you know for sure you would have fainted if you saw that scene in live. How dare he look so good while setting the ball?? "Look, Hinata easily managed to hit that! And there's Bokuto-san!" You recognize the orange-haired spiker, sharing a smile and high-five with Bokuto. "I can't believe that they all actually know each other."

"Yeah," Yachi smiles and nods. "Hinata always talks about Atsumu-san. And Bokuto-san is close with Osamu-san, I think. I've seen him post a few pictures with Akaashi-san at Onigiri-Miya."

"Is that the name of his restaurant? Atsumu said he would take me there someday." Yachi gives you a side-eye, and reaches for her phone. "You've gotten pretty close, haven't you? You seemed really flustered when-" You quickly interrupt her, "No! I—I don't even know him. I don't even have his number. He was just being nice, we're not really close."

Yachi nods with a small grin, and hands you her phone. "Here. That's his Instagram. He's also often at Onigiri Miya. It seems like he's very proud of his brother's success. I though you might want to have a look at his life."

"Thank you." Yachi is truly a great friend, and you feel once again fond of being close to her. As you scroll through Atsumu's Instagram, you find a mix of game snapshots, some pictures with Osamu, in which he always has a plate full of food in front of him, and you can't help but zoom into the plates, impressed by the neatly arranged dishes. As you keep on scrolling, you almost gasp loudly when you find a very surprising collaboration with Calvin Klein, featuring a shirtless Atsumu from a very close perspective. At first, you keep on scrolling, too flustered at the sudden revealing picture, but curiosity makes you go back after a few moments, and you look at the picture again.

He looks good. His muscles are well-defined and he grins seductively for the camera while he poses, clad in only a ripped pair of jeans. It's almost unfair how ridiculously attractive he looks, but you still think that he looks even better when he's just woken up, just like he did this morning. You exhale loudly and curiously click on the comments.

"I would pay real money to have him like this in my bed." "Christmas came early this year- and so did I." "Bless the Miya genes. I'd gladly help to spread them." "Thank you Calvin Klein. I'll make sure to get a pair of these pants." "*FAINTS* HE'S SO HOT, I CAN'T-"

You're startled when you notice how the comments get even more unhinged and shameless as you keep on scrolling. "He... has a lot of fans," you remark, scrolling back to the top and handing Yachi her phone back, to which she nods heavily. "He had his own fan club in high school, and ever since the Japanese team won the Olympics, the whole team has been very popular. Especially Atsumu-san and Sakusa-san."

You hesitate before asking the next question, uncertain of what the answer might bring. "Is there a reason why he's single? He seems like a decent guy, looks good, and he's probably rich. Isn't he the perfect catch?"

Yachi furrows her brows, thinking. "I don't know, actually. It's probably the same as with Hinata and Kageyama. They focus a lot on their careers; they simply don't have time for dating. I also found out that most volleyball boys can be a bit... intense. It's probably hard to find a partner that understands their passion. They prioritize training over anything else. I've never seen Hinata skip a day of training, no matter what happens. Their partners must accept that they put a lot of their energy and time into their jobs."

"Ah," you simply nod, slightly surprised by the revelation. You would have assumed that they have a very lively dating life, but it seems like they just live for work. Sounds a bit lonely.

"I also think that some fans are a bit obsessed with their private lives. There was an incident before with Atsumu-san and one of their fans- but things have calmed down lately, so you should be fine." Yachi reassures you, reaching for a cookie on the couch table.

"I think that—" she is interrupted by the sudden sound of a ringing phone, and both of you exchange confused glances before realizing it's your phone. Yachi's eyes light up, and she squeals, "Maybe it's him—I mean, I could have gotten his number through Hinata, but maybe he's got some news—"

You fumble with the phone, the unknown number undoubtedly belonging to Atsumu. Taking a deep breath, you nod at her and hold the phone to your ear, answering the call with a simple,

"Hello?"

[clover-46]

the writers on here making the miguel fics need to remember his fangs inject paralytic venom hes not a real vampire it was just a joke in the movie 😭

oh but i still want him to bite me don’t get me wrong idgaf if they have venom 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️

[miss-celestia13]

Who do you call when it’s late at night?

Everything went still: her flickering heart, her roaring blood deafening her to all else, and the cycling thoughts that usually haunted her vanished as she shoved the door open, backing away from him as she was done chasing. Done waiting for him. It was time for him to take her. She felt his stare like a physical touch as it roamed over her, and her nipples peaked through her scanty sleepwear, a fact he did not miss.

Harvey strode right for her.

Hardman is gone but Donna isn’t there to celebrate their victory. Harvey hurries to fix that, embracing what he’s always known to be true, and Donnas patience is rewarded.

[nightcrawlersimpblog]

I JUST KNOW THAT THIS WILL BRING MORE FAN CONTENT! BRING FORTH THE FAN ART AND THE FAN FICTION!

[oscarisaacsspit]

gape me

[junkissed]

soft hours open .ᐟ ༉‧₊˚.

please read below for the specific kind of asks i will accept!

i will be writing sfw drabbles only (scenarios, reactions, headcanons, drabbles, etc). any requests for long fics/nsfw content will be deleted. groups i will write for:

svt (all members + units)

enhypen (hyung line only)

txt (all members)

skz (all members)

ateez (all members)

please check my guidelines for more info about what i will/won't write, but please feel free to send any short ideas as long as they are sfw/fluff! ♡

[yuwuta]

yuuta exhibits such previously abandoned, recently adopted dog behavior. incredibly anxious all the time, even though nobody’s out to get him or leave him behind. waits for you to return home or from school or from work excitedly, just to see you when you walk through the door. follows you around senselessly, hovering in your space just for the sake of companionship. initiates affection in prodding ways—starts off next to you, then a hand on your thigh, then deems it safe to lay all the way down, then slowly pushes his head into your lap. gets up whenever you need to get up, and resumes his position as soon as you’re ready. brings you gifts as a sign that he’s thinking of you, and maybe because he likes the affection it brings out in you, maybe because he likes the gentle affirming touches of a hand in his hair or a pinch to his cheek. rests his head on your stomach or his chin on your shoulder when he’s sleepy, stays there, immobile, and will not move unless absolutely necessary. sometimes he gets surprised when he hears you calling for him, there’s a moment of disbelief as he thinks “me? really? you need me?” but it’s very quickly overshadowed by this compulsive need to show up, to please, to do anything for you, which is why he always answers when you call. he doesn’t realize that he has puppygod eyes, especially when he’s excited or confused, but he does and it’s incredible endearing. very reluctant to share your space or attention after a while, considers that to be sacred and he won’t risk being let go or lost again, so as a safety precaution, he keeps himself right by you, waits for you always. 

[lyraeeee]

let me cook???

a small sneak peak of my upcoming work🤞🤞

it really has been such a long time since I last wrote anything and I’m just so excited to share this to everyone soon.

might be posting this on tuesday? wednesday? It’ll depend on my mood

I only wrote for the earthrealm gang so far but if other people ask for it then I’ll consider writing one for the other characters too :)

[kakashi-fangirl-ita-blog]

I mustn't listen to the voices!!

The voices: "Search for every single FrUK smut fanart and fanfiction"

[osamusriceballs]

The Accident - Part XVI

Atsumu x fem reader

Warnings: Stalking, kinda dry humping

Words: ~ 2,5 k

About: Y/n and Atsumu finally TALK. And more.

Part I II -> Next Part

A yawn escapes your lips as you slowly open your eyes to a dimly lit room. It's probably the middle of the day, judging by the way it looks outside. You surprisingly feel fully rested, with Atsumu still peacefully snoozing behind you, his arm loosely draped across your stomach. Your mind races back to the events of the previous night, causing your heart to skip a beat.

That woman.

Atsumu needs to do a lot of explaining to make up for that. If there is even a way to make up for that. You still don't know anything about her, but she for sure gives you the chills.

Maybe it was a mistake. To stay with him- even in the same bed, and to allow your heart to get that foolish hope again. But you're just human, and it seems like your heart isn't so easily convinced that he's not good for you.

You sigh and reach for your phone on the nightstand, noting how late it is—2 pm. Shocked by the time, you check your messages and spot surprisingly many from Osamu Miya and hesitantly tap on them.

Osamu: hope yer alright

Osamu: let me know when you’re home

Osamu: did ya fall asleep?

Osamu: thank you for your help. I owe ya. Call me if ya need anything. Stay safe.

Osamu: good morning. Grab that idiot and come over to Onigiri Miya when yer awake. Or come on your own when he messes up. Drinks are on the house for you.

Osamu: not for Tsumu tho. He can pay double

A smile plays on your lips as you respond quickly.

You: hey! Sorry for the late reply, I fell asleep. Atsumu‘s still sleeping. I‘ll talk to him and let you know if we‘re coming. Thank you for the offer! :)

Osamu: sure. see ya

You: see you :)

Your attention is diverted when Atsumu stirs, his arm now wrapping around your waist as he clumsily pulls you closer. He groans and nuzzles against your neck, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine. Is he aware that it's you he's holding? And does he even remember last night? You somehow doubt it.

"Y/n?" he mumbles after a moment, and your eyebrows shoot up, but you respond with a soft hum and nod.

"Yer—how?" he slowly questions, his face still heavy with sleep. You gently take his hand and remove it from your waist, scooting away enough to turn and face him. His eyes are tired, his expression soft while he fights to fully wake up. You just hope that he doesn't feel too horribly after all that drinking. His team will kill him for sure if he has practice today. You really hope that it's his day off.

"I brought you home. Remember that you had a few drinks at Onigiri Miya's?" you say, trying to sound neutral, though bitterness lingers in your tone. He stares at you blankly until embarrassment and guilt crease his features.

"Yeah, right. I'm—y/n, I'm sorry for that. Thank ya for bringin' me home. I'm just kinda... havin' a hard time." He closes his eyes for a short second and takes a deep breath. He suddenly looks so exhausted that it almost breaks your heart.

"Hard time with what? Work?"

He shakes his head, closing his eyes again, and a weariness settles over his face, despite the ample sleep you both received. "Work's fine. Great, actually. Gotta play with some real amazin' players. I even got to see Aran often again; that's fine. Just..." He opens his eyes, sadness evident. "Just?" you prompt, your heart skipping a beat at his gaze. You know that it has to do with you—you just don't know what exactly it is. And the urge to interrogate him is burning strong in your body.

"I never got the chance to talk to ya after that night," he admits. You nod, urging him to continue, to finally give you some answers. "I wanted to apologize. For kissin' ya. I made ya uncomfortable, ruined everything."

Your confusion is palpable—just what is wrong with him? He should tell you about that woman and not that! And that definitely didn't sound like he wanted to do it again, which feels like a stab to your heart and somehow angers you.

"Uhm... Atsumu, that was not quite what I expected. Like, sure, I've been thinking about that kiss and my feelings for you, but I was more taken aback when you blocked me and invited another girl over, literally the same night we had our kind-of-date."

His face drops after listening to you, confusion and worry etched on his features. "What are ya talkin' about? I never blocked ya, and I sure as heck didn't invite any other girl here. Hell, I don't even talk to women outside of work. Who should I bring here?"

"Brunette? Perfect smile and wearing one of your shirts? Could hardly miss her on my way down. Or when we met her yesterday. Do you have her over at your place every night?" you retort, ignoring his repulsed expression at your description of her. You could almost believe that he doesn't like her at the way he scrunches his nose.

"Her? Ya met her? Yesterday?"

You nod, narrowing your eyes as you recall her vicious features after that scene. But wow, you were definitely embarrassing. How you acted possessively towards Atsumu. Will she laugh about it with him as soon as they meet each other again?

His reaction surprises you, though; he suddenly reaches for you, pulling you a bit closer. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for gettin' ya involved in this. Are ya okay? She didn't do anything to ya, did she?" You stare at him, confused, and shake your head. His worry confuses you. Why bother after not talking to you for so long?

"Can't believe she dared to come here again. If ya ever see her again, you have to call the police. I have a restraining order against her." Your eyes widen surprised at his words and you frown.

"Restraining order? Is she... like a crazy ex?" Dread fills your stomach at the thought, and a suspicion arises within you.

He slowly shakes his head. "She's a very obsessed fan, to put it nicely. She's been stalking me for a while. Started innocently; I noticed that she came to Onigiri Miya every time I was there too. Then I noticed her when I went for walks every other day, always waitin' at the same spot for me and trying to talk to me. And then one day, I noticed that stuff from my apartment started to go missing. That was like two years ago. I contacted the police after I caught her breaking into my apartment, and she got arrested. Haven't seen her since then, but she started showing up since that one night with ya." He groans and you can see just how much stress this situation caused him. He looks so tired while talking about it, it almost breaks your heart.

"I don't know how she found me again," he continues. "She broke into my apartment, and I had video proof fortunately, so I could file a case, and I have a restraining order against her now. She can't show up again, or she'll land in jail. I also had to get a new phone and number; she did something with it. Tried calling ya with the new one, but ya never called back."

You listen to the story with watery eyes. That woman is actually a stalker?! And he had been suffering like that all the time? Tears well up, and you try to calm yourself. So he wasn't ignoring you on purpose. He actually tried to reach out, and you probably ignored his messages, and he felt miserable because he put you in that situation. Hell, someone broke into his apartment. This must have been horrible for him. You're just glad that she at least cannot legally come here again. Even though it doesn't seem to stop her. A part of you hopes that she'll show up again. The thought of her in jail does sound kind of appealing to you- and not just because you were kind of jealous before. She is danger, and you pray that she won't show up again. Maybe she'll stop now that she knows that he's taken- even though she does not seem to respect boundaries. Your thoughts are running, you don't even know what to say at this point. How could you be mad with him after this?

A ray of hope suddenly flashes before your eyes, and you feel your heart flutter. You know that it's selfish to think about your foolish feelings, to think about how much you like him and to wonder if he reciprocates these feelings. But this means that you might mean something to him. This means that he might like you just like you like him, if he has tried contacting you and kept his distance to protect you.

"So... uhm... you weren't ghosting me because of the kiss?" You feel so, so foolish for asking, but your heart longs for confirmation. You'll deal with the stalker after finally finding out about his feelings. After waiting for him for so long, you need to know.

"I didn't want to ghost ya at all, y/n. I really like ya." His eyes catch yours, and you feel butterflies in your stomach once again. He doesn't seem to mind that you changed the topic like that and you know that you look at him like a hopeful lost puppy. He still has that magical effect on you. Everything just feels so right with him, like you're just where you belong. He's so close; you could probably count his lashes, and you can see the flecks of different shades of brown in his eyes.

"I was actually... really sad because we parted like that. I didn't mean to give you the impression that something's wrong—I just thought you'd see this as a game, and nothing more. That I'm just an easy way to spend time for you. Nothing more." You feel so vulnerable when you say these words, but he quickly shakes his head, looking at you with hurt in his eyes.

"I'm sorry. Y/n, I'll make it up to ya, 'kay? Please. Let me make it right." You melt at his words, only managing to nod. "O-okay." This feels like a dream come true. You can't believe that you're making up with him like this- after carrying his drunk ass home and sleeping in his bed. But you just feel so good when you're with him, and for once you decide to be selfish and to take what you need.

He looks at you, clearly stunned. "Okay? Just like that? I was ready to get on my knees to beg for forgiveness and to buy some more diamonds for you." A soft laugh escapes your lips, and he seems to lighten up at your reaction too.

"Making up to me could definitely include some groveling. I wouldn't mind seeing you on your knees, actually. I don't remember you getting on your knees for me ever, even though we are married." You smile, feeling the tension leaving your body. Only he can make you feel like this.

"Oh?" He grins, and you suddenly feel giddy. "Let me refresh yer memories then." He jumps off the bed, lively and energetic suddenly, and you look at him stunned. "Come here." He pats the edge of the bed, and you slowly crawl there, probably not very elegant, but Atsumu still gazes at you like you're a princess that graced him with her presence. You sit up hesitantly, looking at Atsumu right in front of you, who smiles fondly and smoothly sinks down to one knee. He looks devilishly handsome with his disheveled hair, and you can't do anything else but stare at him. Is this a dream?

"Y/n Miya, I know I don't deserve it, but would ya give yer husband another chance? I promise to make ya happy and to never keep secrets like that from you ever again. I'll be whatever ya want me to be just to keep you happy." Your jaw drops at his words and you can't stop the butterflies in your stomach.

"Wow, uhm, that sounds pretty serious." You breathlessly laugh and he smiles with a sincere expression that makes you blush.

"I am. I kinda..." he sighs, running a hand through his hair, making it even messier and he looks even more attractive like this. "I kinda wanna go on dates with ya. Like real dating. Not just getting along because of the marriage thing."

You stare at him, not having expected this kind of answer. He's actually serious about this? And wants to go on dates with you?

"So uhm... what do ya say? Is that alright with you?" He looks bashful, and you finally manage to come up with a response, the one that your heart is longing for.

"I'd love to." The words come out softly, and you smile fondly at his reaction and the way he seems to light up. You don't even have time to realize what's happening- and then he suddenly raises just enough to be at eye level with you and then simply connects his lips with yours in a sweet kiss. You gasp, surprised, your hands coming up to his shirt to ground yourself, but melt into the feeling, allowing him to cup your cheeks and angle your face towards him to deepen the kiss.

This is not what you had expected at all, but feeling his lips against yours, his body pressing against yours—it's enough to make you feel hazy and giddy. You need more; you need to be closer to him. So you wrap your arms around him and pull him closer while leaning back until he's laying on top of you, urging him to stay close to you. He rests most of his weight on his arms, yet you still feel him on top of you, his body pressing gently against yours .

You open your lips, and he instantly uses the chance, softly licking against your lower lip before he slightly moves his tongue to meet yours. His hips press against yours, harder suddenly, and you can't help but wrap your legs around his waist and pull him down to you.

The position is intimate. Your most sensitive part pressing against his middle, and you suck in a sharp breath when you feel something growing in his pants the longer you keep kissing him. Your hands claw into his shirt when he carefully grinds against you—and you whimper against his lips needily, feeling heat rush through your body.

You both know this is where you should stop; you both have only solved your issues like five minutes ago, and some more things definitely need more clarification, but that's the least thing on your mind now. You- you want him.

And you breathe heavily when he pulls back, his lips wet from your combined saliva, looking unfairly hot with his dark widened pupils while he looks at you intensely.

...

TO BE CONTINUED

[hes-a-rainbow]

Heaven And Hell (Part 4) ~ e.m.

A/N: I’m not really sure if anyone is actually reading this, but if you enjoy, please share! I will be updating every Wednesday 🖤

Summary: Steve gets wasted and makes Eddie double think everything he’s ever known about Noah. The truth is finally revealed.

Warnings: 18+ for mature content, ANGST (seriously the most angsty of all the parts so far), Eddie being angry and kind of an ass, references to the Upside Down, Stevie being full on drunk baby girl, mentions of alcohol, language, (let me know if I miss anything!)

Word Count: 2.5k

(Divider by @silkholland​)

SERIES MASTERLIST

AO3

Eddie watches her from afar as she floats around Steve’s living room. It seems as if everybody wants to see her, hug her, ask her a million questions. But Eddie keeps his distance.

He feels like a teenager again as he watches her from his position by the wall. Every now and then he catches her eye, seemingly looking out for him as much as he was for her. His heart even doing a little somersault each time she would look away quickly, embarrassed at being caught.

She looks to be having fun, and Eddie is just happy he is able to hear her laugh again. He had long ago come to accept that he may never see her again. Even though she had promised to come visit.

But there were a lot of promises she made and hadn’t kept.

The room around him suddenly feels too crowded, and the itching in the back of his throat has him clutching around his pockets for his cigarettes. Once he feels them in his shirt pocket (exactly where he left them), he maneuvers himself towards the kitchen and steps out onto the back porch for some peace and quiet.

Surprisingly, nobody has jumped into Harrington’s pool completely wasted yet, but the night was still young.

He places the bottle of beer down beside him as he grabs a cigarette and places it in his mouth. He’s able to watch the party through the glass doors which kind of makes him feel like a creep but he eventually gets over it once he spots Noah laughing at something El and Max are telling her.

He thinks briefly about what it would be like if she had never left. Would they have been married yet? Most definitely. Kids? Perhaps one or two already. Call him old fashioned but he always liked the idea of a boy and girl. But he had also watched for years as Noah was the only one able to rally the Hellfire boys and put them in their place. So maybe even two boys would be fun. Honestly, he’d just be happy with whatever they were given. As long as their child was healthy and happy.

And looked just like their mama.

His heart drops as his brain reminds him she’s already one step ahead of him. He takes a long drag of his cigarette as mind filters through different scenarios.

She didn’t necessarily tell Robin she was single, just that she wasn’t married (Eddie had Robin repeat it word for word multiple times). And just because she may not be with the father now, doesn’t mean she isn’t dating somebody else. Because if she was dating somebody else she wouldn’t have come back to Hawkins without them. Right?

Or maybe she did. And maybe she assumed dropping the bombshell of a child and a partner were too much and she was stashing them at Pop's house until she could figure out how to introduce them to everybody. Or maybe–

“Fuck, I’m totally striking out tonight man,” Steve groans as he slides the patio door close behind him. Eddie didn’t even notice him approaching and jumps a little at the intrusion. Steve gives him a weird look but telling by how glassy his eyes are and how slow he’s carrying himself as he walks over to where Eddie stands, is a clear indicator that Steve is at least three sheets to the wind already.

Eddie huffs, shaking his head as he blows out some smoke towards the sky. “You gonna finish that?” Steve all but slurs as he points to the cigarette dangling from Eddie’s hand.

“Be my guest.” The two men stand in silence, the night around them quiet as the party still rages inside. Eddie grabs for his beer next to him and takes a big gulp wiping his mouth on the back of his hand as he spots Noah’s red dress again in the crowd.

“It’s crazy, innit?” Eddie looks over as Steve takes in another drag before continuing, “Just like old times right?” Steve nods his head towards the door where Noah and Robin are on the other side dancing to some new pop song Eddie doesn't know (or care to know) the name of.

Eddie just hums his response in agreement. Feeling mesmerized as he watches Robin spin Noah around. The two girls laugh as Noah accidentally knocks into someone behind, both dramatically apologizing for spilling the guys drink. Eddie thinks it’s someone Robin must know but he doesn’t recognize him. The man doesn’t look mad at all and laughs it off with the girls who suddenly bring him into a makeshift dance circle of sorts.

“I can’t believe one of us has a fucking kid.” Steve seems to be content to keep talking as Eddie just nods along with him. Scoffing Steve adds, “You wanna hear something really crazy?”

“Always,”

“When–” Steve burps before continuing while Eddie just rolls his eyes, “When me and Rob saw the kid in her cart,” Eddie brings the bottle up to his mouth for another swig as Steve continues, “Rob was totally convinced it was your kid.”

Eddie is lucky he isn’t drinking anything because he’s sure he would’ve choked.

His head turns to Steve so fast his neck hurts, “What?!”

Eddie hadn’t even thought that was a possibility. Robin had said the kid was a toddler but what does that mean, like one or two years old at most? He didn’t know! He had just assumed she was still a baby but if she was older than that could mean—No. No absolutely not, she wouldn’t do that to him. But his brain quickly reminds him that she had told him she would never leave and she had done just that.

“I know!” Steve laughs, taking the last drag of the cigarette before throwing it on the porch and stomping it out. “Dude, how fucking crazy would that be?” Eddie places his bottle to the side as he grabs hold of Steve’s shoulders to turn him to look at him.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Harrington?” Steve seems to be looking right through Eddie as another laugh passes through him, his voice is high pitched as he responds, “I know!”

Eddie’s heart is racing and he can hear the blood rushing in his ears. “No, no, no, no, no, I don’t think you do, Stevie. Why the fuck did Robin say that?”

Steve’s eyes go wide as he holds up his hands in defense, “Don’t get mad at me, man. I didn’t have your baby.” He’s cracking up at the word ‘baby’ and Eddie is convinced Steve snuck into the stash he had brought to the party for later. Eddie shakes Steve by the shoulders lightly, trying to get him to focus, “Steve! Why? Why did Robin say that?”

Eddie has never felt more sorry for Wayne than he has right now, trying to talk with an inebriated Steve Harrington; all the times Wayne had to put up with him in this exact state comes racing back and he makes a note to get him something really nice for Christmas this year.

“Because the kid looked just like you dude!” Steve yells back before gesturing wildly around his head, “She had this big crazy hair, just like yours!” Eddie feels like he’s about to pass out from all the blood rushing to his face. But Steve apparently wasn’t done just yet. “And those eyes! She’s got big ol’ cow eyes!” Steve sticks his fingers by his eyelids as he holds them open even bigger to prove his point. Eddie claps his hand over one of Steve’s cheeks lightly, “Hey Stevie, I need you to tell me how old the kid is.”

Steve sways a little before, “I don’t know like 2 or 3.”

Eddie clasps his other hand over Steve’s other cheek, now firmly holding him in place as his breathing gets heavier, “Which one is it, man?! 2 or 3?”

Steve stops for a second, holds up his finger in a ‘one minute’ motion as he thinks over his answer. “Okay, no, no, no. The kid was definitely 5.”

“What?!”

“No, six.” Eddie is convinced Steve doesn’t even know what planet he’s on right now, because of course he bought the good stuff out for Robin’s party, but fuck he really wants to punch something right now.

He looks over his shoulder towards the patio door, Steve's face still held firmly in his grasp. He can see Noah is back by the kitchen now, refilling her drink as she talks with Will and Robin.

He has to talk to her; he has to talk to her right now or he swears his brain is gonna explode.

“Whoa, are you guys about to kiss right now?” Eddie and Steve’s head turn to see Dustin standing in the doorway of the back patio.

“What?! No!” Eddie releases his grasp from Steve as he heads towards the sliding door.

Dustin holds up his hands, “I’m not judging, I’m just saying–”

“Shut up, Henderson!” Eddie shouts at him while Steve is mumbling something along the lines of ‘you wish, Munson’.

Dustin lets out an offensive squeak as Eddie pushes him to the side and stomps his way over to the kitchen.

Again, he makes a mental note to get Dustin something extra nice for Christmas too.

He hears his name being called as he races past dancing bodies. His blood is rushing too loudly in his ears for him to even figure out who it is. He can feel a pounding in his head, a sure sign of an upcoming stress headache. His heart races harder with each step he takes and he stops by the island counter in the kitchen. Standing directly behind Noah as she continues chatting with Will.

Will notices him first and lets out an excited “Eddie!” which causes Noah to turn to look at him, her smile quickly fades when she sees the look on his face. She’s only seen this look a few times before, one time being after a particularly bad beating from the football team and another after he went to go visit his father in jail.

Noah’s heart picks up in her chest as she places her hand on his shoulder out of habit, “Hey, what’s–”

“Is she mine?!” Eddie yells into the kitchen causing everyone in there to go completely silent. Robin turns around from the sink she’s standing out and lets out a furious call of his name.

Noah’s eyes grow wide but she catches herself quickly, “Are you drunk?”

“Is. She. Mine?” Eddie repeats himself, enunciating every syllable. He feels like he’s absolutely seething and can feel the warm sensation of tears behind his eyes.

Had he never known Noah at all? Had the person he knew completely changed after the Upside Down? How could she do this to him?

Eddie is so hyper focused on Noah he doesn’t even notice the small crowd that’s making their way towards the kitchen to see what all the commotion is about.

Noah looks around at the faces of her old friends and peers, her face heating up. She doesn’t even know how he can accuse her of such a thing. Especially in front of all these people.

Did he not know her at all?

Her eyes become blurry as she feels a rush of hot tears coming, she moves her hand to his forearm squeezing as she begs, “Can we please talk about this in private?” The trance Eddie is in finally breaks when he sees a tear fall from her eye. He can tell by the wobble of her lip that she’s trying her best to keep herself together. Eddie looks up at Will, whose arm is outstretched towards Noah and then he sees Robin, who looks like she’s about to jump over the counter and absolutely murder Eddie where he stands. It also doesn’t help that she was seemingly slicing up more limes and has a giant knife in her hand.

Eddie looks back towards Noah, the tears are falling from her eyes more frequently now and he takes a deep breath and collects himself. His shoulders sag downwards as he clears his throat, “I’m sorry. Let’s–Let’s find somewhere private.”

He holds his hand out to her, a physical manifestation of an olive branch, and for a split second he worries she won’t take it and honestly he wouldn’t blame her if she decided to slap him across the face and never wanted to see him again. But he lets out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding as she slips her smaller hand into his. He can hear whispers around him, people he doesn’t know or doesn’t care about as they walk away from the kitchen and towards the stairs.

He catches a glimpse of fiery red hair before Max is stepping in front of the both of them. Her arms are folded and if Robin’s looks could kill, Max’s looks could maim and torture. She doesn’t say anything as she stares down Eddie.

“Max…It’s fine.” He can barely hear Noah whisper over the still playing bubblegum pop music but Max stalls for a second before hesitantly stepping out of their way.

He lets Noah lead the way up the stairs. He relishes the way her hand feels back in his, back where it belongs, but only wishes it could be under other circumstances.

He tries and fails to ignore the frequent sniffling or the fact that she keeps wiping at her cheeks with the back of her free hand.

She leads him into the first empty room; a seemingly unused guest room. She holds the door open as Eddie shuffles in, tail between his legs. He has no idea what had just come over him. He felt like a petulant child about to be scolded, and if he was being honest, he deserved it.

She drops his hand so she can close the door with both of hers. She waits a few seconds and he hears her release a loud breath before turning around. Her hands are rubbing down the sides of her hair, more unruly now from the dancing than when he had first seen her outside. She reaches down to a small lamp on the bedlight table, switching the light on and casting a low yellow hue throughout the room.

She faces him slowly, crossing her arms over her chest as she creates a barrier, both physically and mentally, between them. When she doesn’t speak, Eddie thinks she’s waiting for him to start so he does so without hesitation, “I’m sorry. Shit, I’m so fucking sorry,” He runs his hands through his hair as he takes a step closer towards her, when she doesn’t retreat from him, he takes that as a good sign and continues, “I just–Harrington is high as fuck and he was saying talking out of his ass but–”

“Why did you ask that?” Her voice is calm but her eyes are still shiney enough that he knows she is just holding her tears at the surface.

He takes a deep breath, sitting down on the side of the bed before leaning his forearms on his knees, “Can you just tell me…” He whispers it to the carpet because he’s already fucked up so much tonight and he’s too much of a coward to face her directly.

He watches as her beaten leather boots step in front of him until she is standing within arms reach.

“She’s not yours.” He takes in a shaky breath while she continues, “I don’t know what you wanted to hear but she’s not yours.”